Chapter 27: SELECTED JOURNS - Delphi The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson (Illustrated) (2023)


Chapter 27: SELECTED JOURNS - Delphi The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson (Illustrated) (1)

In October 1817, at the age of 14, Emerson went to Harvard College and was appointed the President's freshman messenger. Midway through freshman year, he began making a list of the books he read and started a diary in a series of notebooks that would later be called "The Big World". Keeping a diary of that moment would become a lifetime commitment for the young man.

Twenty years later, when he befriended Henry David Thoreau in 1837, Emerson asked Thoreau, "Do you keep a diary?" The question then became a lifelong inspiration for Thoreau, who also built up a large collection of diaries depicting different phases of his life.

By 1867, Emerson's health was failing, and as a result, he wrote much less in his journals. From the summer of 1871 Emerson suffered from memory problems, and by 1879 the problem was so severe that he occasionally forgot his own name, preventing him from writing more fluently or succinctly than before. However, the remaining sixty-seven journals bear witness to one of the most original and gifted minds in American literature, recording groundbreaking, eye-opening, and inspiring studies of nature, philosophy, and the beauty of everyday life that some critics have declared to be indeed the greatest achievement. Emerson's literature.

Emerson's Complete Journals fill sixteen large volumes in the definitive Harvard University Press edition published between 1960 and 1982. This Delphi edition of Emerson's writings provides a wide selection of Emerson's early, middle, and late journals.

Chapter 27: SELECTED JOURNS - Delphi The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson (Illustrated) (2)

emerson you later years


UVOD Edward W. Emerson.

Choice of Water Newspapers: 1820-1823 (view, professional).











Choice of quite Newspapers: 1841-1843 (sight, professional).




Choice of Span Newspapers: 1869-1876 (sight, professional).








Magazine 67

INTRODUCTION after Edvard C. Emerson.

IN 1902, Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin and Company asked me if the Mr. Emerson could be retained, to accompany the annotated edition of the Papers which they were to publish in honor of the approaching Centenary. This question was addressed to Mr. Cabot, whom Mr. Emerson, relying on his common sense and good taste, made his literary executor. Mr. Cabot, after a moment's reflection, said "Yes". Many people, he conceded, would gladly have seen Emerson's first record of his thoughts, come closer to the man than in essays carefully stripped of personality, and also have followed the growth of his powers of expression in prose or rhyme, and the expansion of his mind for fifty or more years on the cover of magazines.

Mr. Cabot said he was too old to be involved in more literary work, and he expressed a wish that I should be the editor: “Just give yourself enough time,” he said; "don't be rushed." A few months later, Mr. Cabot died. I have been deprived of your important and valuable advice.

Magazines were postponed until the release of the Centenary Edition with supplements and notes; so their consideration began. The grandson of Mr. Emerson, Sr. Waldo Emerson Forbes, expressed his willingness to share the work of editing the magazine. This help was of great importance.

At first, the plan only included Mr. Emerson to life and writing upon his return from his first visit to Europe in the autumn of 1833; but after a careful reading of the diaries of the fourteen years before that time - for the boy kept them faithfully from the age of seventeen - the editors saw fit to introduce large portions of them. However, before they decided to do so, they showed samples of the boy's writings to a few people in whose taste and literary judgment they trusted, and in the plan they were confirmed by their less prejudiced opinions. Because we believe that those who care about Emerson, his thinking and ideals, may want to look beyond the mature and judicious work he left in his books, and see the young man in his apprenticeship, the priest in his novitiate and in his full ministry of take care of your people; their studies, questions and hopes; his ultimate sacrifice; meanwhile, the warmth and tenderness that entered this monastic life with his love for Ellen Tucker and her marriage, soon followed by her death and the sad ruin of the new home; then, after being separated from his church, a pilgrimage across the sea to restore his health and to see certain people whose written words helped him.

The extracts from the early diaries are not chosen for their merits alone: ​​they show the soil in which Emerson grew up, the atmosphere around him, his habits and mental food, his doubts, his firm and serious purpose, and the things he overcame. You can see his honesty with himself and how he gave his opponent his word for a fair trial. Also the ups and downs of the boy's health appear in his school days, and why, beyond all reasonable hope, considering the neglect of the body, he lived to a healthy middle age and old age thanks to his wandering tendencies, silence and reverence. before the explosion that shook the health of his more intransigent brothers.

In those years, young Emerson read diligently and widely and learned to figure out what the author or college book was writing.for emand leave the rest. One can trace the growth of his literary taste, style, independence of thought and originality in verse writing.

But, from beginning to end, he sees the value of his unusual aunt, Miss Mary Moody Emerson, in her constant interest and nurturing influence: poor, distant, barely educated, hungry for knowledge, extraordinarily cultured, high in her religiosity, she thought. , critical but proud of his nephews, especially Ralph, and a tireless correspondent. The boy appreciated letters from him and they made him brave. His most careful juvenile writing is in his responses; he keeps to them. Large excerpts from her letters and his responses appear, especially in earlier diaries. He admired her rhetoric, sometimes poetic, sometimes ardent, sometimes sarcastic—always hers.

In his later years, Mr. Emerson was in the habit of copying into his diary passages from his letters to other people in which he carefully communicated his thoughts.

It was as natural for this boy to write as it was for another, to play with a ball, or to go fishing, or to try his neighbor's carpenter's tools, or to feel the melodies of a musical instrument. When the recitations were over and study wasn't urgent, or he wasn't hiking in the woods of Mount Auburn or the wild countryside around Fresh Pond, he'd look at the journal. It was his intimate friend: his ambitions, his disappointments, his religious musings, his mortifications, his romantic fantasies, his follies, his experimental flights of verse, his delight in Byron and Scott or Everett's speeches, ideas gleaned from serious books, everything entered, anything but what one might expect from the boy's diary; about incidents, about classmates, about student work, there is almost no entry.

Throughout it all, and increasingly in recent years, they are diaries, not of events and people, but of thoughts.

With the biography of Mr. Emerson in mind or hand, one might perhaps find external conditions, or intercourse with men, or public events, which suggested a course of thought. One might mention a conversation, or a walk with a friend, or reading a book, but soon the thought takes its own course. More often, the thoughts were about big, enduring issues.

The diaries of the exile in Florida and the visit to Europe in 1833 are exceptional, as they are real records of daily life, of the trips by steamer, of the tourist trips, of the trips to Malta, Sicily, Italian cities, through the Brenner Pass, to Paris, views there, as well as thoughts.; then on the visits to England and the journey home. Much of the account of visits to Landor, Coleridge, Wordsworth and Carlyle was omitted from these books, having been printed inEnglish Characteristics.The notes from the second trip abroad are less loaded. Mr. Emerson printed many of them in this book, and others are given in the notes to that volume in the Centenary Edition. During his third trip abroad, in 1871-72, when Mr. Emerson, sent by his friends, visited England, France, Italy, and Egypt, he took no notes, as his health and spirits were far below the usual standard.

After 1833 the diaries are of greater interest, as Mr. Emerson was entering into a new life and establishing his new home, where he had brought up his wife, Lidian Jackson, and where their children were born. Walden mentions planting trees, gradually adding fields, an orchard, and - best of all for him - a forest. Turning his back on tradition, he sought the living God in Nature and in the soul. A bookNaturewent well and was soon published. Day after day, the diary was a repository of thoughts given to him in the forest.

wandering voices in the air

And a murmur in the world

Say what I can't say,

However, not everyone can contain themselves.

These diaries are reflections, sometimes vague, sometimes clear, of an inner life led by the outside. The study of nature led to an increased interest in natural history, but always as a key to unlocking the chambers of thought. The first lectures after his trip to Europe were on this subject.

Mr. Emerson preached frequently by invitation in various cities for several years, with good response. But when in 1837 and 1838 he spoke in defense of free thought in letters and religion before a select audience assembled at the University, a backlash ensued, and he was denounced by many senior professors, clergy, and leading citizens, as a visionary, dangerous, or crazy. The diaries show that however bravely Mr. Emerson has weathered the tide that then seemed so strong, it seemed at the time that he might be banned as an orator and writer, and would have to live off the land. The event quickly dispelled such fears. The college societies of the interior, apparently ignorant of his heresies, begged him year after year to speak to them; his lectures in Boston won him an ever-increasing audience and new friends, and the lyceum's expansion from east to west gave him as much of an audience as could be desired. The basis of these lectures, which, thus examined and sifted, became essays, came from these daily contributions of thoughts, scenes, experiences and beautiful passages of his reading.

Now new friends appear one by one: young Thoreau, a devoted helper and skilled in all practical matters yet still retaining his beautiful independence, the platonic Alcott, Jones the very mystic, Father Taylor, Dr. fraternal presence of Miss Elizabeth Hoar, who was supposed to be the wife of Charles Emerson. The new home was saddened by the deaths of two brilliant younger brothers, Edward who disappeared in Puerto Rico, and Charles, less than two years later, in Concord. A few years later, Samuel Gray Ward, to whom "Letters to a Friend" were written, is often mentioned; then came Margaret Fuller and Charles Newcomb of Providence, a young man of whom Emerson was very fond, and later Ellery Channing and Hawthorne became his neighbours.

Old friends, of course, make an appearance: the venerable Doctor Ripley and his charitable son, Rev. Samuel, of Waltham, his talented wife, Sarah Bradford, and his brother George, of whom Mr. Cabot speaks as the only "friend" Mr. Emerson already had. During this period, Waldo, a young son who will soon be taken away, arrives in Dnevnik, which delights his father.

Meanwhile comes the Transcendental Epoch, with its star-guided souls, but also many reformers of small and strange pattern, uncomfortable creatures who hitched their chariots to the smallest asteroids. They were hospitably heard and fed, - the humanity of Mr. Emerson, as it appears in the diaries, was aided by her sense of humor. Ever the friend across the sea, Carlyle remains a planet in his sky, albeit with a smoky, eerie light at times.

Goethe's wide range of thought was stimulating, especially in the realm of art, but the New England conscience could not accept the man.

A little before the days of the Neoplatonists, they excited Mr. Emerson with their mysticism and strange imagery, and from them followed a current of thought which led them back to their remote sources in the writings of the ancient Near East. By the way, he liked the gardens of Persia, with Saadi and Hafiz. There are many tentative translations of his songs (from German) in the verse books. Traces of all these influences appear in his notes.

In 1848, Mr. Emerson, turning his face home from his stay in England, wrote "freedom in America," but was obliged to add "in the North," for during the thirteen years since that time the cloud of slavery had grown darker. , and the attitude of the northern politicians and merchants was sadly submissive, while the "comfortable classes" seemed indifferent, even the clergy and scholars. Some of the papers show how heavy the burden of national disgrace laid upon Emerson, and in them are his notes on the opinions of the great men of law, which he sought, of the fundamental rights of man, and the supremacy of the moral law. Nowadays, although he knew full well that the law of Compensation worked relentlessly, out of sight - the cracks made by Conscience were already running through the parts - his slow action tried is even his courageous philosophy. He saw too far to devote his life to the suppression of that particular evil, but his help was never lacking in times of danger, as a strong ally to those brave men who did. Loyal to the ideal Republic, unmindful of cold or hostility, there was no tremor in his voice as he claimed eternal rights. During those years, every winter he felt the relief brought by his distant lecture tours, to see a new land of youth and courage, and to speak a few words for Liberty as he passed.

The war came and he rejoiced again in clear skies, but he mourned the wreckage left by the cruel storm. In the diary of January 1862, when Mr. Emerson delivered his "Civilization at Pinch" lecture before the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, in which he sincerely encouraged Emancipation, he wrote, unusually for him, a detailed account of his meeting with President Lincoln, Seward, Chase, Sumner, and others of the main actors of the great drama.

Peace returned and the country looked proud as never before. The relief of Mr. Emerson and his high hopes appear in the diaries and reappear in later poems and essays. So began a quieter, more enjoyable chapter in her life. Many years ago he "settled in his thinking" and now "his world has turned". He was now widely known on both sides of the ocean for his words and actions and was welcomed as a sidekick. But the growing demand for lectures from the newer West beyond the Mississippi did not permit a lessening of the work, and the journey, though less exposed, was longer. Material from it was still piling up, but putting the selected pieces together into a harmonious mosaic was more difficult than ever. One day he met the God of Limits, who said:

No more!

No more shots

Its broad, ambitious branches and its root.

The fantasy departs: there are no more artifices;

cramp your firmament

The tent compass.

A little bit more

Keep planning and laughing,

And - to blame for new germs -

Ripe random fruits.

"In due time" he accepted the terms; but until he told about that encounter, no one knew he was getting old. His powers weakened so gradually that it was only in shock and exposure, culminating in a serious illness when his house burned down, that no one realized that his strength was failing. But the diaries show this, because although in the middle of his life there were not as many records as when he was freer, after the war there are far fewer. The fact thatSociety eu Loneliness,euIt coulda second book of poems, which was in preparation, partially explains this.

Mr. Emerson was very lucky during this period to give free rein to his poetic instinct, now refined, and "buzz rhymes" as he walked in the woods - verses for "May Day", "Waldeinsamkeit", "My Garden" and other fragments. The book of verses filled as the diary shrank.

With illness in 1872, periodicals practically ended, and after that Mr. Emerson did no original work except trying to correct or edit passages in the lectures unpublished for the promised eu Social Goals;but he felt his incapacity for this task, and consented to his family to have recourse to the voluntary and admirable assistance of Mr. Cabot.

A few things still need to be said:-

1. — These volumes contain selections; not the whole, but most of the magazine's content.

2.—During his more productive years, Mr. Emerson used much of the thought recorded in the journals in his books, often with little or no change in form. These paragraphs are almost always omitted, but sometimes, if they are important, they are mentioned. In some cases it seems good to give the original form, which can show the conditions.

3. — Most personal references are given unless very private. The notes of Mr. Emerson in this case are not offensive.

4. — The passages in which "Osman" appears should not be taken as an exact autobiography, although they come close to it. "Osman" does not represent Emerson himself, but an ideal man whose problems and experiences are like his.

5. — In some cases where Mr. Emerson misquotes passages from memory, the true version is given.

6.—The young man's reading, as the quotations show, seems to have been so wide, and his love for certain authors so great and constant, that it seemed well to give lists of the books mentioned, or the authors mentioned in each. year to 1833. Of course, many of these quotations were second-hand, but they prompted the avid scholar to seek out the original work. Plutarch, Shakespeare, Milton, Montaigne, Jonson, Newton, Burke, Scott, Byron, Wordsworth, are quoted so often that we have year after year lists of their repeated names to show our love for them. After 1833 only significant books of recent reading are mentioned.

It is interesting to see in the pages of the first diaries how the boy's hand instinctively moved from writing to drawing heads. Several of them are shown in illustrations to show that Emerson had some gift in that direction, which he chose to pursue.

The editors sincerely thank the friends who helped them with their valuable advice in their homework.


em 1909.

Choice of Water Newspapers: 1820-1823 (view, professional).



"'In the morning, solitude,' said Pythagoras. Be sure to give the youth solitude, that nature may speak to his imagination, as she never does in society; and for the same reason give him his own room;--and that It was the best I found in college.”

emerge em 1859.

“I don't think he was ever in boys' plays; not because of any physical disability, but simply because, from an early age, he lived in a higher sphere. My deep impression is that, from earliest childhood, our friend lived and moved and was in the literary milieu, quite apart. I can scarcely remember when he was not as literary in his endeavors as when I knew him.

Of a carta eye emerson after dele the earliest dr. William H. Furness




[This “Blotting-Book” instead of Journal, simply marked “No. XVII", showing that it had predecessors, though they no longer exist, was begun in about 1820. Emerson was younger then, living at Hollis Hall, no. 15. A small crude but faithful watercolor painting of that room, apparently done by him, is in "The Wide World", No. 1. Its bare floor, uncurtained window, cheap paper and Spartan furniture well represent the bold simplicity of those days. The pictures are probably prints of eminent divines who could have been spared from home - George Whitefield , Dr. Samuel Cooper, the Rev. Charles Chauncy or other lights of that office to which the boy was already destined. His friend was John Gaillard Keith Gourdin (pronounced, but curiously not mentioned in the records of that year. Dr. Holmes, in his memoirs of Emerson, says: "The two Gourdins, Robert Keith and John Gaillard, were fine young men, as I remember, belonged to Charleston, South Carolina. The 'Southerners' were the governing collegeelegantof that time, of that day. Their tapered coats in the shape of an arrow, and the footprints of their small, delicate calfskin boots in the snow, were objects of great admiration among country boys at the time. I can't help but wonder what brought Emerson and the flamboyant and fascinating John Gourdin together as roommates.” Emerson wrote a dissertation on the character of Socrates, for which he received the Bowdoin Prize. This, with a subsequent award-winning dissertation, "On the Present State of Ethical Culture," was recently printed by Dr. Edward Everett Hale, with a sketch of Emerson's life, in a small edition published at Boston by the Unitarian Association. For the last essay, Emerson only received second prize; his classmate, Josiah Quincy, won the first. The book is filled with various prose and verse excerpts written by the boy, and also quoted from various sources, listed below. Many lines from Shakespeare, Byron, Scott, Dryden and Moore, sorted by initial letter, are stored there for use in a now obsolete game called "Capping Verses". The following excerpts from a study for an article on Socrates, together with some "Poetic Phrases" which the young author saved to embellish his sentences or increase his vocabulary, and a song for a club festival, are all that seem worthy of print. . ]

1820. (Dob, 16.)

The ostensible ritual of India, which worshiped God by insulting nature, although softened as it moved westward, was still too severe a discipline for Athenian customs. “Socrates had little to do with it, and perhaps his information on the subject was very limited. He was not distinguished by general knowledge or information, but by familiarity with the mind and its false and expensive propensities, its sources of action, its attackable parts; in short, his art opened up its deepest recesses, and he manipulated and molded it to his will. Indeed, we have no reason to suppose that he was intimately versed in his own national literature, Herodotus, Homer, Thucydides, Pindar, etc. — His occupation in early life may have provided little poetic inspiration, but his chief characteristic seems to have been wit—a little refinement, a little erudition. His genius resembled Aesop.

The philosopher's greatness shines in all its splendor when we examine the originality, boldness and unsurpassed sublimity of his conceptions. His powerful mind overcame the errors of education and retained useful acquisitions, while rejecting what was absurd or useless. He studied nature with a capricious enthusiasm, and the constant activity of his mind endowed him with an energy of thought little less than inspiration. When he speaks of the immortality of the soul, or when he enters into considerations of the attributes or nature of the Deity, he abandons the petty reproaches of the sophists and his own low species of irony, and his soul warms and expands his subject; we forget that he is a man - he seems to sit like Jupiter, the Creator, who fashions magnificent forms and clothes them with beauty and grandeur...

What is God? said the students, and Plato replied: It is difficult to learn and impossible to discover...

In Athens, learning was not loved for its own sake, but for its sinister ends. It was valued as a salable commodity. The sophists bargained with their literature, such as it was, for a reward which, always excessive, was regulated by the skill of the pupil. And this always more or less has to happen in the infancy of letters. In a profitable community, literature will soon prosper. It must always follow, not precede, a successful negotiation. The first to be supplied are original animal life and comfort, and when these are more than provided for, and luxury and ease begin to seek around them for new pleasure, the mind then insists on its demands for cultivation. .

For to use— POETICAL PHRASES that save and crown virtue. "the coolest complexion of the age." ill-conditioned, camellia, zeal, literate, mitigated, conscience, besieged, galloping halide, blueberry, spikenard, steadfast, counsel, starry, until its color was bent on the crimson cross, innumerable multitude, stout armor, smarmy smile, rapture, demigods decapitated, sign (adjective). Cleopatra, ambidextrous record (verb), embezzlement.


You can say what you like about the current rebellion,

Tonight the Conventicle drinks right;

Centuries annals celebrated his fame

And hymns are sung to hallow his name.


Woe to the windows that the Sophs broke!

Woe to the Laws that are not repealed!

I stopDawecould bear the brunt of a hot battle, and the government voted for Gay, Lee and Blunt.


But who could control this clash of the universe?

Terrified in despair was the soul of every second year student,

Save one, who alone in his power could bear

Battling the Elements - Mr. Danforth.


The juniors who, in the previous year, were more or less involved in the “real” that was celebrated in that epic, could look at him with a smile.O Again to be Ilijada,which has been reprinted from time to time; also described in Josiah QuincyFigure of o Past.

May Earth and nations soon perish,

And the world dips upwards to blend with the moon

Old Harvard will smile at rare fire,

The Conventicle remains as a pledge of salvation.



WORLD WIDE, NO. And in 1820

[The diaries from February 1820 to July 1824 are entitled "The Wide World" and extracts from all of them are given here except no. 6, which is missing.]


Mixing with the thousand pursuits, passions and objects of the world personified by Imagination is rewarding and fun. These pages are initially intended to contain a record of new thoughts (as they arise); for the receptacle of all ancient ideas which a partial but peculiar peek into antiquity might furnish or furnish; for a tablet to protect against poor memory consumption and, in short, for all the various purposes and uses, real or imagined, that are generally included under this umbrella headinghabitual Place a book.Oh you witches, help me! revive or terrorize some lucubration or midnight dream (whichever is deemed most appropriate) to fill this reservoir when other resources fail. Forgive me, fairyland! a rich realm of imagination and gnomeria, elvery, sylphery and Queen Mab! forgive me for presenting my first petition to your enemies, but there is probably someone in the assembly who has maliciously influenced me to what is irrevocable; forgive me and bow to me! — And finally, Spirits of Earth, Air, Fire, Water, wherever you shine, whatever you patronize, whoever you inspire, sanctify, sanctify this hallowed paper — Dedicated and signed January 25, 1820 .


After such dedication, what is so appropriate to start as reflections on or from Edward Search? It is a fine idea he intends to convey, or a form of expression he inadvertently made (we pray, let us believe the latter on the merits of originality) that those parts of the world which man cannot or cannot inhabit are other orders of sentient beings. , invisible or unnoticed by him. To enlarge: perhaps the lower center of the Earth, the bottomless depths and upper confines of the Ocean, the lands around the poles, the high rocks and the clefts of the rocks are inhabited by beings superior to us; — animals cast in more refined moulds; insensible to the inconveniences, miseries, etc., of our species - to whom, as to us, this world seems made just for them, and among whom our very honest and honorable species ranks only among the highest order of animals - perhaps invited byBeetype. When the imagination forms this class of beings, and names them Supromines, it will be perfectly convenient to rise again to an order higher than this last, holding our complacent friends, the Supromines, with as much contempt as they do us, or like us animals, and then it may ascend to another and another, until, as far as I know, it makes this world one of the heavenly abodes, and in its parts, though within and around, but entirely unknown to us, the seraphim and cherubim may live and enjoy. I have made the mistake, which can be very common, of seizing an idea, when I have one, so ruthlessly that it makes an idea that was originally fat, round and shiny dull and flat.

Perhaps our system and all the planets, stars, that we can discover, or rather the whole infinite Universe, move, as was supposed, in a great circle around the center of light, and since the world began it has never completed one revolution. . It is an improvement in the magnitude of this assumption to suppose that there is a source of light before us, and that all the vast machinery has always existed and is now advancing in a straight line through the infinite fields - the expanses of the universe. . It is a unique fact that we cannot present to the imagination a longer space than just the extent of the world limited by the visible horizon; so that even in this stretch of thought to understand the broad path which lengthens and widens to receive the Universe in motion, strict necessity confines us to a small extent of only a few miles. But what does it matter? we can speak, write and think... Chateaubriand's "the universe is the imagination of manifested divinity" is worthy of him.

"Follow your own path to glory, don't follow man or more than man," says Caswallon (in "Samor"), and that will be a good motto if you cross out the last four words.

INDEPENDENCE; eloquence from the pulpit

Suppose an orator to the pulpit for whom the path of his profession has not yet been tried, but whose talents are good and his feelings strong, and his independence, as a man, in thought and action established; let him take the pulpit for the first time, not to please or displease the crowd, but to explain to them the words of the book, and to lift their minds and pieties to heaven. Let him come to them solemnly and forcefully, and when he speaks, he will attract attention with an interesting figure and an interested face. To enlarge his views on the high doctrines of religion, he may embrace the universe and knock the stars out of their ways to pay homage to their Maker.

Here's a source they can't miss. Wise Christian orators have often and usefully extolled the Creator's inconceivable power, as manifested in his works, and thus elevated and tempered the minds of men, and gradually led them away from the world they had abandoned by the refreshing ideas of Majesty, Beauty, Wonder. , which these considerations confer. Then, when life and its frivolities flow swiftly before them, and the spirit is absorbed in the play of its mightiest energies, and their eyes are fixed upon it, and their hearts are in heaven, then let it do its dreadful duty, then let him reveal the glorious plans of heavenly wisdom, and, while admiration is mute, let him serve your supernatural needs, and let the ambassador of the Most High prove himself worthy of your immense calling. May it acquire the tremendous eloquence which moves the souls of men, which turns the world upside down, but which loses all its filth and retains all its greatness when consecrated to God. When the congregation assembles to hear such an apostle, you can look back and see the faces of the people leaning forward in earnest expectation, and in this desirable frame of mind the preacher can lead them wherever he pleases; they yielded their prejudices to the eloquence of the lips which the archangel purified and sanctified with fire, and this first sacrifice is the sin offering which purifies them.


February 7.

Mr. K., a Boston lawyer, in a private conversation, presented a good character of a respectable person, which I will give in part. "Webster is a rather large man, about five foot seven or nine, thirty nine or forty years old - he has a long head, very large black eyes, bushy eyebrows, a commanding expression - and his hair is coal black and raspy as a raven. His voice is sepulchral - without the slightest variety or harmony of tone - it commands, it fills, it echoes, but it is harsh and discordant. sass and immense power of concentration - it brings everything you've ever heard , read or saw in favor of the case in hand. He cuts the bar to see who will run, and if no one will run, he will fight. He will fight. He knows his own strength, has perfect confidence in his own powers, and is distinguished by a spirit of firm determination; he marks his way out and will cut off fifty heads rather than turn away from it; but he is generous and free from malice, and will never take a step to make a sharp remark. from pathos it becomes ridiculous He is humorless and never laughs, though he is very sly and sarcastic, and sometimes stirs up the whole court with an oddity or scathing remark. Your imagination is what the furnace light is to its heat, a necessary companion—not bright or pleasant, but terrible and gloomy." Exaggeration. Of the causes of bad society in the city, he said well, "There is something that makes good society, but they are discordant atoms", and on the contrasts and comparisons of the worthy and the great dead, - "you cannot say to a man 'your neighbor's house is higher than yours', but you can measure the tombstones and see which is the tallest."


I have been so long at Cambridge in this period (three or four weeks), and have not yet paid my gifts to the Gnomes to whom I have dedicated this strange and motley manuscript. Is it because there is a lack of material? - no - I've written a lot in prose, poetry and various other things - let me put the most favorable construction of the case, and say that I was better employed. In addition to paying considerable, if unsuccessful, attention to my university studies, I finished Bisset's Life of Burke, as well as Burke's "Regicide Peace," along with a good variety of optional readings, generally very entertaining and instructive. Pythologian music isn't all that fast, though I did experience some poetic moments. If I could sit in the alcove of one of those public libraries which human pride and literary rivalry have made expensive, splendid, and magnificent, it would be an enviable situation indeed. I would delve into the classic lore of fairy tales of knights and bards, and opening the weighty books of the staunchest believers in the magic and power of a holy cross or an elven ring, I would let my soul sail raptly through its darkest wild fantasies. Pendragon appears before my imagination and has given me permission to wander his walks in Faerie and appear in Gloriana's tower. I stand in the fair assembly of the chosen, the brave and the beautiful; honor and virtue, courage and delicacy mingle in glorious joy. Immaculate chivalry sheaths a successful blade in the presence of immaculate chastity. And the solemn jubilee of Fairyland is heralded by the tinkling of its silver bells. The halls are filled with opulent splendor and the groves are joyful with light and beauty. The birds enjoy and extol the joy of the shades of the green woods, and the music of the harp floats in the joyful breezes. Or some other vision, more real, no less beautiful, should attract me, arrest me. All the repositories of Greek and Roman literature can be unlocked and fully displayed - or, with the Indian sorcerers, send my soul to wander among the stars until the "twilight of the gods".

April 2d.

Spring returned and began to open her beautiful garment, to throw herself in beds of wildflowers, to walk the hills and call her singers to pay her sweet homage. The Muses left the library and the precious winter abode of their faithful, and went to build their bowers on Parnassus and melt their ice-covered fountains. Castalia flows rapturously and raises its foam aloft. The hunter and the shepherd are loose on the rock, and the valleys echo with the merry, merry horn. The poet, of course, wanders, while a thousand melodies of Nature resound for him. This gentle, enchanting opulence of spring storms and the beauty that accompanies them conquers. This produces a languor full of mental pleasure, which we would not mistake for a stronger pleasure. Though while the spell lasts, little or nothing is accomplished, yet I believe it works to free the mind from old and outworn thoughts and gives a new freshness to life, and leaves behind the imagination of spells the mind could cast. in splendid forms and sumptuous costumes that will fascinate them long after the physical phenomena that aroused them cease to create pleasure.

April 4.

Judging by the opportunity I have had, tonight I must have a rich, abundant, and profound train of thought; after listening to Mr.

Everett delivered his Introductory Lecture, lasting an hour and a half, after having read much and profitably in the Quarterly Review, and finally after hearing Dr. temperament well adapted to receive with serene attention what is offered. He will endeavor to record promiscuously received ideas:—Although Greek literature furnishes us with sufficient information about the later periods of their common state, when we go back, before the light of tradition enters, the veil falls. "Everything aspires to the mysterious East."... From the time of the first dispersion of the human family to the time of the rise of Greece, everything in the history of man is obscure, and we consider ourselves fortunate enough "that destiny can be written in general of a dynasty", although we know nothing about the individuals who compiled it. The cause is the ineffectiveness and uncertainty of tradition in those primitive and ignorant times, when the whole history of the tribe was located in the head of its patriarch, and on his death its history was lost. But even after the invention of letters, a lot, a lot, never came down to us. We must not regret this. What was worth knowing passed to posterity, the rest was buried in deserved oblivion. Everything that has to be delivered has been delivered. The Phoenicians gave theirs to the Greeks, but not a single line of what they wrote has been preserved, while their disciples built for themselves an unfading monument of glory. Here I resolve to acquaint myself with the Greek language and antiquities and history with long and serious attention and study; (always with the help of circumstances.) For that, I dedicate myself and dedicate myself to the reduction of quoted or original sentences, which refer to Greece, historical, poetic and critical, page 47 of this consecrated record. By the way, I dedicate page 45 to the register of the Inquirenda and the books to look for.

Signed, JUNIUS.

AprilEthereal beings to whom I dedicated the pages of my "Wide World", please do not neglect it; when I sleep it wakes me up; when i'm tired anime! Roam the moonbeams, fairies! but bring them home here. In fact, you can't imagine the pleasure it would give me to wake up from a bloody Enfield class and find a page written in Queen Mab's moonlight letters! I'll give you one item - a thousand if you like; — for example “Pendragon”, your own Pendragon; record his life and his glory. "Prince Arthur" if not too banal; or "Space" or a broom; or all that, or another fifty thousand.

June 7.

A very unique opportunity led me to extract very reasonable answers to the two questions I proposed to Virgil. I opened the line for the first time -

Oh cruel Alexius, you care nothing for my songs.

For the second I opened a verse which Dryden's translation is ——

"Go, let the gods and temples take care of you."

I've been reading excerpts from Barrow and Ben Jonson lately; and what is the purpose - not curiosity? no - without expectations of intellectual or moral instruction - but only because they are authors in whom one can look and find strong phrases and unusual, peculiar words and expressions, the better to "stir up the battle of my thoughts". I will now resolve to give a good sentence of Barrow (all the beauty he marred by misplacement) in purer and more modern English; —Obvious manifestations of God's rule can sometimes be seen. Sometimes, in the career of triumphant guilt, when matters have reached such a pitch that lawlessness and anger prevail to a great extent, so that the offender's life becomes intolerably difficult, there is a change in the state of things, however stable. and stable as it is. constant it may seem, a revolution in a sudden and strange way, arising from evil and unworthy causes, which subverts the lofty fabric of happiness, and reduces its gigantic dimensions; and there is no struggle for power, no attempt at policy, no caution or work of man to support it: there is an invisible hand stretched out which restrains all this force and cuts through all these devices - a stone cut from the mountain without hands and breaking to pieces. of iron and brass and clay and silver and gold. - On examining the sentence, however, though the main draft of the whole originally belonged to the Reverend Isaac Barrow, yet we very complacently admit that great alterations redacted it for Mr. Ralph Emerson, and I intend to use it going forward after another re-model as it is still very sensitive to improvement.

June 19.

When those magnificent masses of vapor which weigh upon our horizon part, revealing the fields of blue atmosphere, an ecstasy is awakened in the system of the sensitive man who thus revives the energies of the mind and shows himself such manifold strength and joy superior to others. existences, who will triumph and glory in what is man... In these moments we feel that eternal analogy that exists between the external changes of nature and the scenes of good and bad in human life. Joy comes, but is quickly supplanted by sadness, and we see the approach of transitory truths like morning mists, terrible and many, but the fairies are in them andBranco agitateattractive.

August 8.

I readNovi Organ.Lord Bacon is really a wonderful writer; he condenses an unsurpassed amount of material into one paragraph. He never allows himself to "deviate from direct frankness," or to babble or talk carelessly about his real subject, and, moreover, he writes with more melody and richer cadence than any writer (I almost said, of England) on a similar subject. . Though I have quoted in my "Universe" the composition (with whose insolent expression I beg leave to remind myself that nothing more was intended than to express the breadth and variety of the range), yet I will here add a little sentence from the thirtieth section of the second volumeNoviSpeaking of bodies composed of two different kinds of things, he says: “but these cases may be considered of a singular or heteroclite kind, as rare and extraordinary in the universe; however, for their dignity, they must be separated and treated. Because they excellently indicate the composition and structure of things; and to propose the cause of the number of ordinary species in the universe; and leads from understanding what is to what could be.” There is nothing in this sentence that makes it more quotable than the other. Does not stand out from the rest; but it happened to seem to me a very different sentence from those similarly constructed by ordinary writers. For example, in the last three sentences (which begin "It's excellent for them"), it is common to see the author build a beautiful sentence in this way, with an idle repetition of the same idea, lightly embellished to cover up the mistake. In this, they all convey certain ideas, but very different and all beautiful and smart. — But, says Sterne, "it is the criticism that provokes the most."

There's a strange face in the freshman class that I'd really like to meet. He has a lot of character in his features and should be a quick friend or a furious enemy. His name is: I will endeavor to get to know him and wish, if possible, that at some future time I may recall the singular feelings which his presence evoked at this time.

When we see an excellent example of painting – where does the pleasure we feel come from? Inresemblance,is immediately answered, to the works of nature. This is admitted to be in part the cause, but it cannot account for all the pleasure we enjoy; for we see more perfect resemblances (like an apple with a stone or a fruit) without this pleasure. No, it stems fromcanwhich we immediately remember as necessary for the creation of the image.


At the H[arvard] C[ollege] Athenæum I spent a very pleasant hour reading Marlborough's life in the "Quarterly Review". I was a little disturbed by the dull train of thought; but once I stopped reading altogether and became absorbed in speculating about the future, while wondering if, ten or ten years from now, I should go far on the bitter and perplexing roads of life, when then would I remember those moments, which are now considered so by the poor, I would not fervently wish for the possibility of their return and find myself again slumped awkwardly in a slanted chair in the Athenaeum office with my book in my hand; Burmese and lamps and shelves all around; and Motte who coughs on his newspaper next to me, and I'm ready to go out to Joy and Commons when that different meaningSinowill increase theirs

"But meanwhile, time is ticking, irreparable time is ticking."

August 23, 1820.

The first year ends tomorrow. Since it is time to close our accounts, let us similarly conclude this book, which was born out of the musings and fantasies that filled the corner of my mind with various things during the last two periods. It all started during the winter break. I think it's definitely a job improvement. He did not encroach on other businesses and gave timely assistance at various times to increase or enliven meager matters, etc. Nor did he monopolize compositional energies for literary exercises. As I was writing on it, I started and finished my Pythologist Poem by260lines, - and my dissertation on the character of Socrates. This preventedsadnessmany moments of idleness and may have enriched my stock of language for future endeavors. Much of it was written with the aim of preserving them, as evidence of a peculiar quest through the distance of the years. Little or nothing was elaborated on - his office was meant to be a hasty, sketchy composition, sometimes containing elements of a more serious order.

Farewell, joyous powers and principalities! The roles were written for you. A light thank you for your warm smiles. Deathwitches of Valhalla and gentle ladies of faerie, Whose protection was implored and whose dreams were invoked To deliver the scroll, farewell to you all; - you have the smiling poet's blessing and malice, his longing and his forgetting. Abandoning his loyalty, he throws him to the wind, recklessly challenges his malice and fun. He squeeze the red nose; to seduce him after Will-o'-the-wisp in jungles and swamps; scare him with horrible bums - take revenge however you want - He gives you free license on one condition - if you can.


August24 of 1820.

books to do to be searched forWordsworthovaHermit; QuarterlySeptember 1819; Liber VIII, by BuchananScotland—Wallace; SpenserovaTo view of o state of Ireland;CamdenovaDirectory of Queen Isabel;KennetovLife eu Characters of Greek poets;Dom,Of Famous Greeks;Middleton's Cicero; burtonmelancholy;Barrow's Sermons; hobbes joinvilleLife of Sv. Louis;FroissartovaHistory of England;as works of Chaucer; Bayle'sDictionary; Corina;Drama by Massingerové; Fletcherov does; bentleyaPhalaris;Peter's letters;cards of Oriental Countries; Waverley;coganAlready o Passions; sir Carlos Neto.


scope, historyTroubadours.— — Sir Walter Raleigh's idea of ​​the "Queen of the Fairies". “Valhalla. - Archipelago. — Paestum. — Taillefer at the Battle of Hastings.

— Lighting (graphics). —Griseldaby Boccace. — Walter Raleigh's account of the theories of paradise. — Water spills.

Extracts from the registers of the (PYTHOLOGICAL?) SOCIETY of which Emerson was for some time secretary. 1819-1821 (view, professional).

[Although the name of the Society is not given in the Secretary's Book, and in the minutes of the meeting of June 13, 1819, the committee appointed to consider the matter reported that it was "better that the Society should have no name," and that report being accepted, it appears that Emerson was assigned to prepare a poem for the Society's first anniversary celebration, and to read one, as the accompanying passages show. However, in a diary covering this period, he twice mentions writing his “Poem of the Pythologist”.]

Several members of the second-year class met in Gourdin's room on April 24, 1819, for the purpose of forming a society, for the exercise of composition and discussion: Present, Blood, Emerson, Frye, Gourdin 2d, Hill 2d, James, Reed, and Drvo. The question of whether it is expedient to establish a society for this purpose has been proposed and discussed. They unanimously voted to form a company for these purposes; Hill 2d, Wood and Emerson, were chosen to prepare regulations and laws to be presented at the next meeting. They adjourned to meet in Frye's room on May 2nd at half past seven, p. M.


The great object of public education is to train people for usefulness in active life, and the main skills we can be useful for are those of writing and speaking.

We are told by those whose decision cannot be appealed that only with constant and relentless practice is it possible to achieve ease and excellence in these skills. We believe that societies, when well organized and supported by the spirit, are of great benefit in acquiring these important qualifications. We therefore agreed to form a society of extemporaneous writing and speech, to be called

We are committed to promoting the interests of society and the mutual improvement of both by receiving and giving instructions freely, and we are committed to complying with the following laws and regulations: —

Article1. The society cannot have a maximum of twelve partners, and no one can be admitted without the consent of each partner.

Article4. At each ordinary session, six members will read essays on subjects designated by the society, at the invitation of the officer, and six will discuss the subjects proposed in the previous session, each on a subject designated by the society.

Article5. Two members are chosen from among those who read the essays to decide on the issue, and in case of disagreement, the moderator decides on it.

Article6. Four members will be chosen by the society to read essays before the society on topics of their choice, two at the meeting nearest the middle of each semester to present at the meeting nearest the middle of the next semester, and two at the end of each semester to present at the last meeting of the next semester. Any member who neglects or refuses to read the essay or debate will be fined twelve cents and a half; for failing to read an essay, fifty cents. Disorderly or dishonorable conduct is punished with a fine of six and a quarter cents; non-attendance will be punished with a fine of twelve and a half cents. Any member arriving after the meeting will be fined six and a quarter cents.





Enoch Frye — Edward Kent John G. K. Gourdin Saml. H. Lyon JOSEPH B. HILL — JOHN M. CHENEY JN. B.BRDO

November 25.,1819.

The next meeting was the rehearsals, and a committee of three was chosen to guarantee the night: Blood, Gourdin and Lyon. The society considered it necessary to agree on a certain amount of money for the spent rehearsal nights.

So it was voted that the amount should be two dollars; that what Fines did, the latter also studied law, but was successively a printer, a teacher, and a Presbyterian preacher, chiefly in Tennessee. During the Civil War he was a field agent for the United States Christian Commission and died in that service in Chattanooga.

Charles W. Upham studied theology and was a priest in Salem. He later served as mayor of that city and was sent to Congress. His book on Shalem witchcraft is well known.

Edward Kent, a handsome, strong, dignified man, was born in Concord, N. H. He studied law and moved to Bangor, Maine, where he was mayor. He was twice Governor of Maine, then Consul in Rio de Janeiro, and finally Justice of the Supreme Court of Maine.

John M. Cheney lived in Concord, like Emerson, and was a bank teller for most of his life. not cancel must be paid by rating to members. It is voted to adjourn until Monday night at 6 o'clock until Fr. Gourdin's bedroom, November 7th.

Nathaniel Wood, Sec'y.

Monday Ev'g.,March[1820]. He met in Br. Wood's room by postponement. Accessed the session on admitting a new member,guarantorUpham. Cheney was nominated and elected, and Fr. Wood was appointed to inform and invite him to join. Changed to reading threads. BRs. As Lyon and Gourdin were absent, they were chosen by lot as volunteer debaters for Blood,guarantorGourdin e Wood,guarantorLyon. The first debate between Kent and Frye was decided by judges Blood and Reed in favor of Kent. After discussion, they chose Fr. Kent and Hill 1. to determine topics for discussion; BRs. Wood and Burton for themes. Committee report for discussions:-

1.: What contributes most to personal happiness, celibacy or marriage? “Burton and Reed.

2d: Can it be justified that Tracy's father spends his days in Cambridge? “Wood and blood.

3d: What is the strongest passion, love or ambition? — Emerson.

Report of the thematic committee, "Envy desires and then believes". Both reports accepted.

No. Reed asked for a refund of the fine he paid for not writing the essay, as he became ill three weeks before the night of the essay submission and was out of town. A heated argument ensued, he withdrew the request and it was that the members of the society as individuals in Fr. Reed would consider his essay a duty.

Postponed until Monday night, so two weeks, to meet at 7 o'clock at Fr. Emerson's room.

Attest, R. W. Emerson.

Monday Eve,March anything[1820.].

They met after the break, Fr. Kent in the chair. Moved to Reading Threads, then Discussion. Due to the absence of Srs. Hill 1, Gourdin and Lyon, wasvotedthat Brothers Frye and Hill 2d will be judges for all hearings. The question that arises as to the convenience of choosing by lot the one who would voluntarily speak with Fr. Emerson, was that in the present or similar case a debater should speak to himself. The judges ruled the first debate in favor of Fr. Reed (for celibacy!). During the interrogation of the second, the judges reported indecision, and the moderator decided for Fr. A tree. After the discussion, he heard Fr. Wood's report as a committee, which reported that Mr. Cheney gladly joins the company, but is unable to appear until the next meeting. He continued towards the signs. BRs. Blood and Burton, Discussion Committee, Report:-

1.: The accession of Canada to the territory of the USA would be in the best interests of this country. —Frye and Hill 1.

2d: Whether the Commons will be honored by the advancement of university literature. — Kent and Hill 2d.

3d, Whether Cicero or Demosthenes is the greatest orator. — Gourdin and Lyon.

Report of the Committee on "The Future".

May the anniversary of this society, on the 24th of April, be celebrated with words and songs. Choose Kent Speaker No., and Fr. Emerson, the poet. As the next meeting is the Night of Rehearsals, I chose Fr. Burton and Emerson Arrangements Committee.

Postponed to Monday Evg., 7 am, to meet in Br. Burton's room.

Attest, R. W. Emerson, Sec'y.

Monday Eve,April 3d[1820.].

They gathered as deferred. No. Lyon in the chair. He continued to listen to Fr. Hill 1st essayvoted,that the company's certificate of appreciation be presented to Fr. Hill for her elegant and witty performance. No. Gourdin was not present, he continued with the evening's social work. After that, Sr. Gourdin appeared, because of the delay and other reasons, andvoted,That brother. G.'s essay is to be read at the next regular meeting of the society.

He was named no. Hill 2d and Wood will be essayists at next semester's mid-term meeting.

Postponed until April 24, the Society's birthday, to meet at Fr. Emerson's room, to hear speeches and songs.

Attest, R. W. Emerson, Sec'y.

April 26.,1820.

We met by mistake two days after the anniversary.voted,not that. I would like to ask Gurdin to read your essay to the company tonight. He continued to start the Br. Cheney, and then listen to Essay. that the company's certificate of appreciation be presented to Fr. Gourdin, for his precise and elegant essay. No. Blood shown No. Kent's excuse for not coming, which was that Fr. Emerson to be a committee that will ask the brother. Kent to make his address to the Society at the first convenient opportunity. He continued to listen to the music. Society was then spoiled by the liberality of Fr. Reed and Lyon.

votedthat the company's certificate of appreciation be given to Fr. Reed and Lyon for themunequaledPostponed for two weeks from next Monday night.

No. R. W. Emerson.

November18 of 1820.

After several unsuccessful attempts by the secretary to bring the company together, some members (setting an example of disinterest and self-deprecation, which is their highest honor) met this evening at Fr. hill room. After they had spent some time in lively conversation, enough were present to form a quorum; and, therefore, the meeting was opened, when, according to the object of the meeting, the Essays were called.

But Brother Gourdin, one of whom had not appeared for some time, his was obviously omitted; how was the brother The blood is for the same reason. The essayists, whose presentation was scheduled for this evening, were Fr. Cheney and Emerson. No. Cheney, therefore, was called in, and he did very well.elegant eu patriotic Rehearsal;for which the society's sincere thanks were expressed to him; a sign of honor incomparably more valuable than medals, which time will stain and destroy, or statues, which violence will disgrace and barbarism overthrow. —

Here the Secretary would gladly conclude this night's record, and let Posterity's critics suppose that what he has written above is but a fraction of what he has recorded; and they exert their learning and ingenuity to make up for the deficiency, but truth and faithfulness forbid them. Because (O tempora! O mores!) as soon as p. Cheney turned in his essay and received the Society's thanks, as recorded above, and then some of the members present began to express their disquiet at the new arrest; and that, although Br. Emerson was ready to read the essay that needed him. Strange Love! But the desire to leave was so great that it was impossible to keep them together. The meeting was therefore adjourned. —

Endorsed by, — E. FRYE, Secretary.

February 26.,1821.

Great for connecting! within an hour of the appointed time, a greater number of members than have attended any meeting since I had the honor of being Sec'y, assembled at Holworthy Hall no. 4 to listenEssaybecause of the last time, andbirthday speechlong overdue, but so long that it should have been delivered almost a year ago. — The meeting was then opened (with Fr. Kent in the chair) and a speech was requested. But Brother As Kent had not enough time, we may suppose, to prepare since he was chosen as speaker, he wished it to be postponed to the next birthday (April 24th); with which society has agreed. So we will confirm the old adage, killing two birds with one stone. When this work was completed, Fr. Burton was called to his Essay, which would wait almost as long as the Speech. But I wasn't ready, after hearing your excuse,for to be delivered already o night of o Monday closer o fifteenth of- No. As Gourdin was absent, his Essay was obviously not read. No. Blood, whose Essay was to be published at the same time as Fr. Gourdin's was the next to be called. - But it seems that, by some fatal error, he left it in pounds sterling or elsewhere, it was voted to hear it from Fr. from Burton. This is how we dispatch work. Now there are no rehearsals to listen to except Fr. Emerson; which was not read last semester due to the circumstances shown on page 46 of this volume. He was therefore invited to read it now. And, oh! how the secretary's heart danced with joy when he saw him get up from his chair and, taking a roll of paper out of his pocket, sit down at the table! Rejoice with me, my brothers, for tonight we will hear another rehearsal. "So he read a lot."eu appropriate Rehearsal"for which he received the unanimous and (I might add) the most sincere thanks of the society.

All the work related to the presentations was thus concluded, Br. Hill 2d was chosen a committee of one to wait in Br. Gourdin, and inform him that, unless he attends meetings in the futureosociety more regularly than in former times, hehe mustto bebanned.No. Blood was also elected a committee of one to wait for Fr. Lyon for the same purpose...

And now, my term having expired, I must leave it to him [Hill, the new secretary] to convey to posterity the very interesting proceedings of this society, while I, with true firmness of mind (Oh! the sweetness of power)! ), will descend to the private station . So farewell to all my greatness; Frye's interest is gone!

Attest, Enoch Frye, Sec'y.

Wednesday,March21 of 1821.

He met in Br. Bleed, and let us look up, for the day of restoration draws near. I record with pleasure the course of this joyful evening.

In the first place:No. The wood filled the chair with supreme dignity, dominated by gravity and imposing majesty. The house was then put in order, and we were favored by Fr. Blood, under the heading "daily trips, etc" in the country. The effect he produced on us was - I cannot say how strong - and therefore I will not attempt to describe it - it confused the description. So let's drop that subject and turn to a milder atmosphere and calmer skies. - No. Emerson next came forward, using language that was clear, concise, andconcisea comparison of village and city life, for the teaching of the Brotherhood. No. Wood then charged us with an original and no doubt very accurate description of "country life," in which he drew back the curtain, that is, opened the door, and immediately led us into the Yeoman's residence. We were very pleased with the mistake made by the owner of the house, a "good and easy soul", who at first mistook his guest for an ass, or some other strange animal. But when he woke up from his sleep, he realized his mistake and received him with such warmth that we were delighted with "country life". The topics were sent, we moved on to the discussion. The first, with the absence of Hill Gourdin, decided, of course, in his favor. So the important question of Dowling was discussed by Kent and Frye. In which he first showed interest, eloquence, warmth of feeling, and sensibility in defending Patrick Dowling, an Irish Catholic, who did honor to his head and heart. He even ascended to the Most High in defense of this great and much wounded man, woven with specimens of the most beautiful Pathos. His feelings were indeed so affected that they choked him on speech, but his expressive countenance did more for his sake than any letter of the alphabet. Brother Frye, by contrast, produced many "rebuttal" arguments, which had an obvious tendency to refute everything his opponent presented. He lavishly attacked him with insults and contradictions. He exhibited much sophistry, satire and humor in his attack on the dark Dowling. He would even have gladly buried him in a hole he dug himself, into which he was thrown by a fit of drunkenness. This being a case of special importance, instead of entrusting the decision, as usual, to just two members, the secretary formally took the opinion of all those present; and notwithstanding the obstinate virulence and position of Mr. Attorney Frye, Patrick passed by a majority of one vote. So let intemperance win!

Committees: Kent and Hill 2d, For Debates, reported the following that was accomplished.

1: Whether it is useful for students to spend a lot of time on acquiring a decent achievement. —Burton and Emerson.

2: Conference. On the comparative interest aroused by the lectures of Ware, Willard, and Everett. - Blood, Cheney and Wood.

Blood and Cheney, for topics, reported: "The misery of human life." They accepted.

votedpostpone until next April 5th to meet in Burton at 7 pm.

April5 of 1821.

We met at Burton's...

Kent and Hill 2d, judges in the Burton and Emerson trial, ruled in the negative, in favor of Burton.

Atestar, Jos. B. HILL, Sec.

It could1821.

I met at Brother Blood's house to hear Fr. Kent's birthday speech. Liberal provisions were made for social relations, to which the two bottles of wine, offered by Brother Emerson, contributed in a great measure, and for which the society, by public vote, warmly thanked Brother Emerson. No. Cheney was seated, and after a merry drink, the speaker continued:

[Here the minutes of the society come to an abrupt end, except for certain reports at the end of the books and the following official statement:-]

I, R. W. Emerson, Arrangement Committee, have received from R. W. Emerson, Secretary, the sum of two dollars for each writing meeting in the last collection period of fines and evaluations, and also the gifts made to the society on the anniversary of the meeting, &c. ., and spent them faithfully tothe best interestsociety as much as my limited understanding could help me. There remains in the treasury the sum ofoneas donation no. Oliver Blood to the Society - which I will pay at the request of the new secretary.

R. W. Emerson.




[Between, or contemporary with "Wide Worlds", no. 1 and 2, there is a handwritten book, marked as above, several copies of which are here given. In addition, it contains notes on college lectures and transcribed excerpts from books he has read; also some very juvenile criticisms of Wordsworth, especially "The Excursion," and notes to his prize-winning dissertation, "On the Present State of Ethical Philosophy," printed, as has been said, by the Rev. doctor Edward Everett Hale, with that of Socrates, with his Emerson sketch.

The notebook also contains fragments about the religion of the Middle Ages, the religious tendencies of different social conditions, about poetry, etc. There are also a few pages from the novel, "Wizard", and an unnamed one about a witch woman; also several passages of verse, including part of a ballad about King Richard.

But in this and some of the "Wide Worlds" that follow, much space is devoted to the discussion of drama, especially in America. He boldly and violently attacks it, praising Greek tragedies, but his youthful sense of morality is outraged by the coarseness of the passages of the Elizabethan dramatists, and his taste disgusted by the degeneracy of later drama. However, it must first be remembered that it is doubtful whether the young man was ever in the playhouse; secondly, that the writings in question were probably prepared for discussion in the Pythological Society, to which he was appointed to the office; therefore, they do not accurately represent Emerson's views at the time, especially since, a little later, he adopts a much less severe tone and believes that the theater in America could be reformed and become a growing influence, of which, in the However, Shakespeare more and more its charms must be turned off unless they are seriously cleaned up.]



where you lie carefree

Buried in ease and laziness?

Knowing that sleep is dying;

And this security,

It is a common moth that eats intelligence and art, and practically destroys them.

Are all aon fonts

Dried out? Waste of Thespia?

Could it be the strings of Clarius's harp?

That no nymph sings now,

Or they will languish in shame

See your seats and gazebos mangled by chattering pies?


THE DRAMA Campbell, the poet, told Professor Everett that the only chance America had of a true national literature would be found in drama; we are obliged to respect such a high authority and at least examine the correctness of the position.

Few speculations have so much charm in their nature as this one, the object of which is how to keep a dialogue between man and his fellows sufficiently removed from everyday life to avoid revulsion, while at the same time drawing attention and raising the tone of sentiment.

In a nation that has always been held up as the paragon of all the arts, the source of all polished letters, and the paragon of all times, drama was invented, and only then did it succeed perfectly. Therefore, all research on this topic begins in Greece. The history and influence of tragedy, its modes and mechanisms of action must be explained from these sources.

Tragedy, by awakening feelings of fear and pity, tends to correct the same feelings in the soul. This has always been the cherished philosophy of tragedy, with what propriety we shall not presume to establish; but these ends were fulfilled in Greece, and more than that, reverence for the gods was effectively inculcated. The bondage of superstition was useful in chaining those whom the light and law of natural religion could not guide, and he whom the beauty of moral rectitude could not overcome feared to face the temple of the Furies and stuck his head out as he passed. for her. But who produced this mighty influence over a people whose refined taste kept a watchful eye on the artist, lest he was unconsciously seduced and never yielded to anything but the irresistible power of genius? In what schools did they acquire the subtle art which in their hands became the instrument of such power? This question is the most important one that can be asked, because it develops the causes of its supremacy. It was not a sloven student in Academy gown who won the prize of tragedy, but Aeschylus was a son of the republic who fought valiantly at Marathon and Plataea and came bloodied out of battle, to gather into a single natural weave the personalities of the old traditions, and attributing to them the feelings he had just felt, and placing them in the circumstances in which he found himself. The miraculous effects of his representation have been recorded; but who executed them and how? In answer to this, we all know how the primitive period differed from the modern one; that everything was on a magnificent scale, that the actors turned into giants, and the power of their voices was amplified by a metal mouthpiece. But what constituted their main difference was their independent habits of feeling, feeling, inventing. An anecdote from his theater illustrates this. Polus, the first actor on stage, was about to play Electra. In this work, Electra embraces the urn that supposedly contains the remains of Orestes. The Greek actor ordered the urn containing his own son's ashes to be brought from the tomb and taken to the theatre; and when this urn was offered to him on the stage and his father bent over it, he rent the air without imitating sadness or insincere roar, but the whole audience was melted by the moving image of his sadness and lamentation.

When the light of the Greek theater which these masters shed upon it was gone, it would have violated the usual order of events if equal illumination had been rekindled. The frivolous Comic Muse, hitherto little esteemed, became favored and quickly trod in Tragedy's footsteps with sceptres. The witty and insulting Aristophanes parodied the eloquent declamation of Euripides, imitated the hideous bow of princes and gods, and turned the general satire of the old comedians into a cruel personal mockery. Eventually, civil authorities stepped in to stop their flagrant abuses.

Tragedy was not inherited by Rome, which scrupulously incorporated all the art of Athens. It was too delicate a treasure to be passed down lightly through instruction or gained by plunder.

In France, during the Dark Ages, the castle of feudal lords witnessed another raw drama of which only the name and character remained. The "mysteries" served to show that it was a natural expression of human feelings.

In England the progress was somewhat similar, but the first productions which were marked with fame were works of incredible power, and their origin was sudden and inexplicable. From an obscurity unlit by anyone since the age of Chaucer, there suddenly emerged a series of elegant and original presentations, equal in power to the masterpieces of Greece, and adorned with such a delicate tone of feeling and the wisdom of a sound philosophy. and rare. , in verse in which nature's own melody was breathed to arrest the soul.

Throughout this beautiful marvel was smeared a horrible corruption that made every page offensive. It is wonderful how health and poison, beauty and destruction can be intimately combined, and nowhere shall we find so fatal an illustration. The inhabitants of England sat rejoicing in the light that Shakespeare's genius had shed around them, unaware or heedless of the impurity that surrounds us...

Are we to be told that Shakespeare painted nature as he found it, that we see here only what we see elsewhere in scenes of everyday life? No, he paints nature, not in her innocence and pristine state, but not until she herself has become corrupt, and her exposure will corrupt others. Nor is the general morality that can be derived from the whole pure....

Shakespeare assumed the commanding attitude of a daring genius without equal; people saw that the inspiration was genuine, and few had the scruple to ask if they were all here...

The statue is colossal, but its diabolic features poison our admiration for the genius that conceived it and the skillful hand that carved it.


Of all sciences, the science of the mind is necessarily the most valuable and the most sublime. But it cannot precede others. Natural philosophy and mathematics must be pursued in order to obtain first the comforts of civilized life, and then the data from which our moral reasonings are derived. There is an old saying that everyone is in a circle and necessarily depends on each other; that great improvements in astronomy involve knowledge of mathematics, and of others as well. We exist for moral purposes and we are proud to call ourselves intellectual beings! Therefore, someone would say: leave matter to the beasts that are just matter and surrender to their peculiar and recognizable abilities. But then our reason and all our mental powers are called upon to the active exercise of demonstrating the properties of matter as properties of mind, and animals are equally incapable of both. Therefore, your argument is self-refuting.

As far as the study of natural philosophy is concerned, I do not believe that any study contributes so much to the expansion of the mind as our first correct notions of that science; — when we learn for the first time that the sky is not a shell but empty space, that the world is not calm and flat but a small sphere which, as one of the systems, goes around in enormous circles...


Who should I run to? or who avoids our complexes?

Remembering this, let him stir the ashes and sleeping fires.

Virgilian bridge.

(It is a song to do one whose not improved talents eu inaccessible friendship ter interested o writer you dele to like eu destiny.)

By unrecognized tie

What connects us to each other,

The pride of feeling tall

What name of friendship can suffocate;

By the cold eyes that meet

whose language moves deeply

He rebelled against the rash assumption

Who said the heart is willing;

After everything you felt and feel,

My longing gaze returns,

I offer this silent fervor

It burns on the altars of youth.

All the classic hours that fill

Small urn of honor; Minerva takes and pays the pen

His hand yielded to hers.


May luck bless you

And your friends caress you

Far from care, but loved by me;

gifts of pleasure

In the boundless treasure

Not withheld, but poured out on you.

decorated with roses

On the eve your friend rests,

However, he seeks unlimited joys.

R. W. E.

When Jove's gray daughter, Belle Care,

On crimson beds the first was laid,

Your thousand wrinkled children there

Frowning at the poor man - betrayed everyone.

There was a small village then

The curved shape, whose name was S,

Who ordered the evildoers to unite in form

smiling cherub, vis

"Does not the queen of the forest gather the secrets of the future while reading the rotten oak leaves, and cannot she tell the youth how to direct his steps in life?"



[Emerson was now a senior, seventeen, and with his beloved brother, Edward Bliss, Emerson, who had just entered the freshman class, held fourth no. 9 Hollis.]


I resolved to bestow a new letter to my pen, having finished my common book, which I began in January, with as much success as it was ambitious - the object of which was the small benefit of being a treasurer in a storehouse of accumulations. organized verbs, a noun and a noun, i.e. a sentence. It was a source of amusement and served its purpose, and therefore encouraged me to repeat, nay, to continue the experiment. Therefore, Him!

To forget for a while the world and its cares, and to lay the soul aside for sublime contemplation until it loses all sense of circumstances, and is clothed in feathers drawn from the gay wardrobe of Fantasy, is a recreation and joy that few men can be worth. But this privilege, like other great gifts of nature, is attainable, if not innate. It is denied to at least three classes of mankind, namely: the queer, the honest, and the clumsy. This is by no means a careless or fanciful classification, although these epithets have a rather limited meaning. By "queer" I mean those unusual animals whose hideous eccentricity arises from a smug character and lack of common sense. I characterize "real" only as people who make itjobs.And "clumsy" refers exclusively to some unusual lamp-faces that from time to time grated on my nerves and made me nauseous because of their disgusting appearance. With careful explanation we advance from these degraded degrees of intellect, that sad frontispiece of creation, to the proudest orders of the mind. Ordinary people claim to occasionally use this power of beautiful abstraction; but only the souls of the mightiest are given to command the disappearance of land and sea, of mankind and things, and they perish. Then comes the Magician who illumines the glorious vision with hues of heaven, bestowing otherworldly thoughts gilded with the glow of ecstasy and delight, until the Hours, filled with beauty and joy, pass without number. Rejoicing in the exercise of this prerogative, the poet, truly so called, begged a reluctant permission.

"And you will live forever

In the spirit of this spell.

November 6.,1820

Tonight I heard an eloquent lecture by an elegant professor of French and Spanish literature on the subject of the scope of language, a subject which brings dullness and fear in its face - every soul present warmly recognized the power of demarcation when the great deluge of French , breaking down all the feeble barriers of passing dialects, captured the languages ​​and literature of all Europe, while in the turmoil of politics the German thrones clashed against each other in this great and vast area of ​​the sea.

When bordering Fantasia it leaves clods of land

To rebel in the regions of his birth,

Where, clothed in light, the Genius of the stars

Throw your diamond cars into the glittering universe,

Or in the pavilions of heavenly pride,

Calm above all the influential beside,

An outlet for the bold joy that swells the glorious soul

Rich in the thrill of secure control,

Ahead, around, roam their golden visions

Until only Glory can delay its reach.

Well, I started with prose and collected ten lines of poetry, which are unlikely to answer to facilitate the work on the next subject. It's ten-thirty and time to leave the Big World and its cares behind and let my lazy limbs rest comfortably.ergostop, my pen, "Enchanting the world with noble calligraphy!"

November 12.

I was supposed to write a subject this morning, but cruel fate forbids the appearance of rainbow-colored thoughts. I want to write poetry to add to "By delimiting" etc.

November 15.Different mortals leverage sources of happiness that are completely different. I find this most evident in the famous cases evident in college recitations. My more fortunate neighbors delight in the demonstration of mathematical knowledge, while I, having experienced the humiliating sense of dependence and inferiority which, like the anguishing sense of extreme poverty, paralyzes effort, I consider myself amply rewarded, if with my pencil I able to compose entire catalogs of nouns and verbs, to express to life the imbecility I felt...

Mr. Everett says:--“the cry of wonder is lost ere it reaches the arches of heaven, but there is an all-seeing eye that looks deep into the recesses of the darkest heart. It is a small thing to abstain from a vice that has no temptation, or to practice a virtue that is on your side with crowns on your head; but it is a vague, vexatious, unsuccessful virtue that finds its reward.ExhibitionThis stormy day is over. His thought-time character is always extremely unique. Fuller than any other day Of great thoughts and poetic dreams, Of hope, joy and pride, And then closed with mirth and wine, Showing or causing a gay and brotherly feeling; but brutalized and tainted by an excess of physical pleasure; leaving the mind distracted and unable to pursue sobriety. Barnwell's speech contained lofty imagery. — One age of great power — a terrible description of the firestorm that overshadowed Sodom and Gomorrah — the other description of the waters of the Pacific was noble. Between Barnwell and Upham there is a great battle of ambitions. Thunder and lightning are weak and meek descriptions of the flow of astonishing eloquence. You double the power of an image if you describe it as it is.

The sparkling eye, filling the chasms of the tongue, the living brow, throwing meaning and intellect into every furrow and frown; the stamping of the feet, the tense limbs, the desperate gesture, all these must be seen in their vigorous exercise, before the vivid conception of their effect can be adequately felt. And then a man must separate, discipline, and intoxicate his mind before he can enjoy the orator's glory, when powerful thoughts crowd over the soul; he must learn to torture unwanted memories and concentrate misery, horror and disgust until his own heart grows sick; he must reach out and organize the brilliant ideas that have settled around him until they coalesce into a mighty and terrifying sublimity.

November 24.

I'm starting to believe in the Indian doctrine of fascination with the eyes. One cold blue eye - so intimately connected with my thoughts and views that a dozen times a day, and so many times at night, I find myself completely involved in speculations about its character and inclinations. We've already exchanged two or three long, deep looks. Whether he is wise, weak, or superstitious, I must know him.

Maybe your destiny in life is greater

than fate assigns me,

By fulfilling your great wish,

And offer my hopes as the visions flee.

But give me still in joy or in sorrow,

In sadness or in hope, seek your heart,

And then I will challenge tomorrow

While I fulfill a loyal role.


I often find myself idle, lazy, stupid and hollow. This is quite frightening, and if I don't discipline myself with diligent attention, I will suffer seriously from remorse and feelings of inferiority in the future. Everyone around me is hardworking and will be great, I'm lazy and will be insignificant. Avoid it, heaven! drive her away, virtue! I need emotion.


My opinion of... strangely diminished when I learned that he was "probably idle". That was redeemed by knowing he was a man." This rather hectic week at college brought its share of setbacks.


What a great man Milton was! thus marked by nature for the great epic poet who was to bear his name in these later times. In "The Reason of the Ecclesiastical Administration Against the Prelate", written as a young man, his spirit already communicates with itself and extends itself in its colossal proportions and longs for the destiny it is destined to fulfill.


"Abbot" should be for its author "a source of pure pleasure and immaculate pride."



Young Waldo, when in his coming whims, feels like taking a piece of glass and covering it with a thin layer of wax or glass and tracing the proposed figure with a steel point. Place it in a dish containing a mixture of powdered fluorine and slightly heated sulfuric acid. The acid gas that comes into contact with the uncovered parts of the glass joins and removes the silica, as well as probably the alkali with which it joins, and thus more or less deep lines are formed - according to Gorham's chemistry (article,silicon),page 265, volume one.

Watch this. Mr. Everett observes, that a temperate climate has always been considered necessary to high national character.

In addition, Mr. Waldo, if you want to find the most sublimely accessible sayings about the destruction of nations,Vide4th book in the Sybilla collection.


I will attach some recipes for the terrible emptiness that forever destroys peace of mind, otherwise it is called


1. — Take Scott's novels and carefully read the headings of the chapters; or, if you prefer to read the novel itself, pick up “Bride of Lammermoor”. 1

2.—Sometimes (rarely) the best parts of Cowper's "Task" will serve the purpose. I mean domestic scenes.

3.—For the same reason I would take Scott's slogans, I would take old tragedies like Ben Jonson, Otway, Congreve; in short, anything of the sort that departs as far as possible from the normal course of thought.

4. — Create recipes to add to this list.


Here in Cambridge, in my sad classroom. On Sunday night I heard Mr. Everett preaching a charitable sermon in the Old South - one of his most eloquent efforts (perhaps his most eloquent).

December 5.

It seems to me that the secret of eloquence is to know that powerful aid would be derived from the use of linguistic forms which were generally known to people in childhood and which now, in a different and unfamiliar guise, but forcibly reminding them of first impressions, probably will confuse them with opinions whose origins I cannot remember and therefore I consider them innate. At least, if they cannot convince the mind with such an action, they can serve to attract attention by this stimulating but ambiguous charm. By these forms of language I mean a paraphrase of a sentence in aprimeror another common children's book in the country. The magic would perhaps be more perfect if, instead of such a paraphrase, the words of the sentence were adapted to the rhythm of the aforementioned children's literature. I dare not attach an example.

The human soul, the world, the universe are working towards its magnificent realization. We are not so wonderfully shaped by nothing. The tense conceptions of man, the monuments of his reason, and the whole furnishing of his faculties [sic] were adapted to more powerful views of things than the most powerful he had ever seen. Roll, then, you majestic universe, in lofty and incomprehensible solitude, along an invisible but sure path. The finger of God points your way. And when the centuries have passed and time is no more, while the stars have fallen from the sky and the sun has become darkness and the moon has become blood, the human intellect, purified and exalted, will rise to the perfection of immeasurable joy. and ineffable of knowledge and glory. Man will come before Jehovah. (In the manner of Chateaubriand.)

December 15.

I demand and take a moment's respite from this boring school to roam the fields of my own rebellious thinking. The afternoon was gloomy and about to snow - gloomy and ugly weather. But when I left the hot, burning, heated, smelly, dirty A-B spelling room, I almost went upstairs and lifted the atmosphere by breathing in the free, glorious air, the noble breath of life. It was a wonderful emotion; but it soon passed.

It is impossible that the distribution of prizes in the following ones is not gradual. How inconsistent with justice would it be to lump all the limitless diversities of merits and states into one whole—everything from the dying martyr, who was torn apart for the faith, to the modern Christian's deathbed, where the soul that was never tempted, and the sinless innocence that was never examined, sighed a harmless life on beds of downy feathers, and was followed and carried to heaven by the prayerful sympathy of saints on earth. (In the Everett manner.)

Read the Edinburgh Review on Drummond's "Academic Questions" the other day. Recension and Recension are fine specimens of an elegant metaphysical style.

Attended a lecture by Mr. Ticknor on Voltaire.


January 9.,1821. We hear today another sacred display of genius - the insinuating and irresistible effect of eloquent manners and style, when the object they are supposed to enforce makes them sacred and impregnable - a sermon by Mr. Everett before the Howard Benevolent Society. He told a very touching anecdote. “I knew a woman in this city who went to work with her own hands to pay for the wooden coffin in which her only son's ashes would be placed. I prayed with her when there was no one to stand by her side except the one who was supposed to take that dust to the grave."

There was a huge congregation, but as he spoke, all was dead silent. Sadly, they still rocked the house with their loathsome convulsions during intermissions; for when, after a pause in the sermon, he raised his handkerchief to his face, it seemed almost a concerted signal for the Old South to cough.

Let those who never cough cough now, And those who always cough now cough even more.

February 7.

My aunt's faith is the purest and most sublime of all that I can imagine. It seems to be based on broad, deep, and far-reaching principles of suitability and fitness for purpose—principles that few can understand, much less feel. He attempts to reconcile the apparent insignificance of the field with the incredible grandeur of the Operator, and bases the benevolence and mercy of the Plane on adventurous but plausible comparisons of the condition of other orders of beings. Though it is an intellectual outgrowth of beauty and splendour, if that is all, it exudes a practical spirit of rigid and stern devotion. She is independent of form and ceremony, and her ethereal nature lends a soulful glow to her entire life. She is the strange woman of her religion, and finds herself ever obliged to walk the narrow but high paths that lead to the infinite realms of rapturous and exalted glory.

March 14.

I am reading Price, on morality, and I intend to read and comment on it carefully. Here I will expose what comments I have on the topic or the form of your argument. On page 56, Dr. Price says that right and wrong are determined not by any reasoning or deduction, but by the ultimate perception of the human mind. It would be desirable if he could provide a satisfactory proof, but, being in direct opposition to the skeptical philosophy, it cannot remain without the support of strong and sufficient evidence. I will read further and see if this is proven or not. “He says understanding is the ultimate determinant.



I'm sick - if I died, what would happen to me? We forget ourselves and our destinies in health, and the main purpose of a temporary illness is to remind us of these worries. I need to improve my timing. I must prepare myself for the great profession I intend to pursue. I must give my soul to God, and turn away from sin and the world of idle or corrupt time, and the thoughts I have sacrificed to them; and let me regard this as a decision by which I bind myself to act in all different circumstances, and to which I must often return in times of carelessness and temptation, in order to measure my conduct by the rule of conscience.


It's Saturday again and I'm almost recovered. Is it a wise decision that we can never know what effect our own prayers have in restoring the health we ask God to restore? Some thought that these immediate effects had no influence; in general, that his good is prospective, and that the world is governed by Providence through the instrumentality of general laws, which are broken only in great occasions of the world, or other parts of the Creator's works. But than I wandered? I think it infinitely separates the celestial periods from the terrestrial ones. This way of giving gifts without expressing the reasons for giving them, and leaving it to the heart to apply and discover the giver, is worthy of a supreme and ineffable intelligence.

Well, I'm sorry... An anecdote I overheard - portrays you as more of a neighbor than I'd like. I'm going to have to throw it out though, like a cheater. Before I saw you I wanted my ownmy friendto be unlike any individual I have seen. I gave him a solemn mind, full of poetic feeling, an idolater of friendship and possessing a rich and sober vein of thought.

I've had the same feelings for him for a year now and I must be sorry I lost him completely before we'd exchanged more than a dozen words.

It could 2.

I'm more confused than ever with the behavior of.... Yesterday he came towards me and I, watching him, just before we met, turned another corner and in some strange way avoided him. This morning I went out to meet you in another direction, and stopped to talk to the chaise longue, so as to be directly in the way; but - turned at the first gate and headed towards Stoughton. All this [happened(?)] without any obvious plan and so [soberly(?)] as if they both intended to make a big deal.

It could

Huzza for my magician! surrounds me well. I'm interested in the story and can't wait to find out the ending, as any other reader can be. By the way, this story of mine could be told with great effect by a man with a good voice and natural eloquence.


Mr. Everett, in his Ordnance Sermon, in order to illustrate his own prophecy that the century now beginning (that is, the third century since the Plymouth landing) would be the most important in determining the future destinies of America, told this story: —In 1417. . , when Huss was tied to the stake at Prague, he declared in the midst of his tortures that after a hundred years vengeance must be taken against the papacy. The inhabitants of Prague wrote their words"Post centumin its standard and in its records, and in 1517 Luther's reform began.

books quaresma

Kettovi Elementi, oba toma, Angieru. Telemaque, Stackpoleu I.

LACROIX, Gutterson.

Locke, 2nd division, Hillu.

Books III and IV of Childe Harold, — both lost.

Guy Mannering, Laneu.

Rhyming Dictionary, Williamsu, A. B. Blair’s Rhetoric (skraćeno), Hooperu.

Ballad of the Last Menestrel, Lothrop.

Our Lady of the Lake, doIdem.

Adams Antiques.

books InvestigateMatherina magnalija

Dunlop Fiction History.


Brz. Froissart.

To Davy's Chemistry.

Life of Jones of Teignmouth.

Simmon's Life of Milton. 3 British volumes. Plutarch.


Montaigne's essays.

Germany (Stael).

Drummond Academic Questions.

Price, about morality.

Humboldt's work on America.

Smithova Virginia.

Robertsonova S. America.

History of Philip II.

Shakspearean life.

matters for TOPICS

Destruction of the city; poetry.

(Forensic) Whether civil authority is based on express or implied agreement.

Domestic relationships as limitations of the adventurous spirit.

The influence of time on intellectual temperament.

The figure of any fancy portrait, for example.



Pythagoras; Anaxagoras; Aristotle; Xenophontovian and Platonic princess Socrates; Homer; Aeschylus; Sophocles; Euripides; Aristophanes; Arquelau; Theocritus of KennethGreek poets).

Cicero; Lucretius; Virgil; Horace; Epictetus; Arrian; Marco Antoninus; Epicure; Zendavesta, Gibbon); Arthurian romances; from Joinville,Chronic of Sv. Louis;Shakespeare plays and masks, Ben Jonson (The Alchemist), Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger, Otway; Bacon,Novi Organ;Milton,Raj Comus, Samson agonist tes;vlč. Isaac Barrow; Montaigne,Essay;Montesquieu,cards the Persians;Châteaubriand; Cowper,Task;Dryden,Absalom eu Aquitofel;Corneille; Racina; Hobbes; Brz; Sterne; Addison; Papai; Descartes; Cudworth; Locke; Woolaston; Shaftsbury; Mosheim; Hume,Essay;Sacerdotal; Paley; Dugald Stewart; Dr. Reid; Dr. Price,Already Moral;Mellen,Already divine Revenge;Forsyth,Principles of Morally Science;bishop's hall.

Johnson,life of o poets;gibbons,Refuse eu Cushion of o romano Empire;Burke,Regicide Mir;to bite,Life of Burke;The Writings of Edward Search [Abraham Tucker].

Sismondi,History of o Italian Republic;Scott,Cara Stareuminstrel of o Scottish Border;Lockhart,Spanish Tour;Moore,Lalla Rookh;Campbell,Songs;Wordsworth,Excursion;Southey,cursing of For the body;Byron, Ichild Harold;Carlos Cordeiro,Essay;Maclaurin,Life of sir Isaac Newton;Dean Milman,o The master of o BrighteuCushion of Jerusalem;hill house,Percy1 s Mask;Bryant, eudied Passenger;Edward Everett Lectures; Edinburgh and quarterly reviews.


[During the years 1820 and 1821, Emerson kept a Book of Quotations, named as above, composed of extracts from his various readings in the University Library, or any other trove of letters available to him. These passages were carefully transcribed in small handwriting onto numbered folio sheets, which were then folded once and placed in a cover. The range is somewhat remarkable, and the list is provided below.]

SpencerovaTo view of o state of alreadyWarton.

Queen Elizabeth's Bridesmaids Entertainment; Harrison,already Hollinshedova

Homer's verses, sung by him and a choir of boys in front of the houses of the wealthy on Samos; original Greek and Metric translation,alreadyBasila Kennettalife eu Characters of o Greek1697.

Pope Gregory VII excommunicated Emperor Henry IV.alreadyBeringtonovaAbelard eu Heloise.

Queen Elizabeth's Passion for the Earl of Leicester,alreadyCamdenovaAnais Isabel.

A clip from a scene at Byron's

Chaucer's account of his sufferings in prison.

Extract from Cicero's letter to Plancus, Middleton

A passage from a Cornish poem, describing the funeral of a pauper.

End of conference between Rebecca the Jewess and Brian de Bois Gilbert at Scott'sIvanhoe.

Spencer's Death and Funeral,

Epigram of Erasmus (Latin) to Sir T. More, when he failed to return his borrowed horse.

A supposed epitaph Virgil wrote for himself.

Pedanticism in the Age of Queen Elizabeth, Warton.

On the Art of Rhetoric, Richard Wilson,alreadyBurnett.

O Bessarion, Marcus Ficinus,alreadyDom,Of greeks Famous

A silent passage from Bertram's Soliloquy in the play Maturin,alreadyEdinburgh review.

Trecho de Byron ShipwreckWear

Excerpt from a sermon by the Reverend Isaac Barrow, on the relative inefficiency of human laws.

Quanto a Shakespeare. Ben Jonson

As for or Bacon.

collinsOda,"As the brave sleep."

excerpt fromHebrewByron.

Meg Merrilies condemned the Laird of Ellangowan. Her prophecy is good for her son.Cara Ways.

In shaking off Cupid's yoke and in Emulation; from ShakespeareTroilus eu

Song of Runic Bard [cited later in “Poetry and Imagination” incards eu Socialestr. 59], Godwin.

Sforza's speech about his misfortunes.Duque of Milan;Massinger.

meditation includedConscience;bishop's hall.

Final paragraph of C.W. Upham, Exhibition, August 1820.

shading ofRaj lost;a long extract from MiltonReason of Church Government forced contra Prelate,beginning "Though the poet, floating in the lofty region of his fancies, with his wreath and singing robes about him," etc.

Sir Bohort's speech over Lancelot's corpse. ellis samplesWater English

O cooked Bride;Congreve.

The power of chance in human inventions; BaconNovi Organ(Dio2section II).

Epitaph already Pizarro;Southey.

A long stretch ofIdealistic;Drummondovaacademic Questions.

Explanationsa first; MorallyDugald Stewart.

Guide angels of heavenly bodies; Jeremy Taylor's sermon.

Dialogue between a Tyrant and a Stoic; Arrian, translation by Priestley.

A favorite passage, beginning with "Supernatural voices ceased" in ScottTo lie down of o Spansinging me.

dreams ofO Castle ofThomson.

Excerpts from the scenes between Viola and the Duke, dTwelfthShakespeare.

Spenser's Lament;Mother Hubberdov History.

O Nightingale;Thomson'sThe station.

excerpt fromMagnalija ChristiCotton Mathera, as to the number of settlers in Massachusetts Bay.

Lord Bacon's Exposition to Queen Elizabeth, in a Letter to the Earl of Devonshire.

Music ofto tie metamorphosed,Well Jonson.

"Ode to Melancholia";O Passionate lunatic,Beaumont e Fletcher.

excerpt fromThe master Because rice*C. K. Sharpe,alreadyThe Drake Trials.

The origin of the fable;compliments of

O Sailor San.

clown song,Twelfth Night.

The loss of the Lombards to the establishment of federal republics; Hallamovaquite age.

The fall of power of the Church of Rome; Hallamovaquite age.

Power of defense and conquests of the federal republics. Sismondi,History of Republic Italians of AVERAGE Dob.

Bad omens accompanying the outbreak of hostilities when Charles I. planted his flag in Nottingham;Clarendon s History.

Lik Cromwella;Clarendon s History.

To do o plantar rosemary;H. Kirke White.

Preface to one of Elizabeth's expensive masks; Well Jonson.

To do aWillian Cullen Bryant.

CloseRefuse eu Cushion of o romano Empire;of the gibbonsMemoirsown life and writings.

A student's thinking compared to a river that is trying to be dammed; Tucker's ("Edward Search")Luz of

Thinking and investigating compared to hunting dogs; Tucker.





[EMERSON does not appear to have kept a diary for the last half of 1821.

He graduated in the summer of 1821, number thirty in a class of fifty-nine. His actual erudition in the necessary branches must have been much less, for it must be remembered that any misconduct can deduct more or less points for recitations. Therefore, a boy with a quiet nature can end up standing much taller than a bright but rowdy one. But Emerson, even so, educated himself day and night in his own way. He came only among those who received "parts" at the beginning, and at that time they were always handed over. his wasto like of Ivanin a colloquy on Knox, Penn, and Wesley, of whose charge he would have been rather careless. He was a Class Poet, a dubious honor, as at least six had been applied for before him and turned down.

His brother Guilherme, graduated in 1818, did his best to support the family, and Waldo was forced to help, as the case was urgent. William, twenty-two, had recently opened a finishing school for girls in Boston at his mother's house, and now offered his eighteen-year-old brother the position of assistant. It was a difficult place for a shy boy, unused to girls, but he accepted it. (See Cabot's Memoirs, pages 69-72 and 86.)]

BOSTON,January12 of 1822.

After a considerable gap, I'm still disposed to think that these common books are very useful and harmless things - at least enough to warrant another try.


The Contrast Principle we find engraved within - ... how did it get there, where do we derive it? Either the Deity wrote it as one of His laws about the human mind, or we derive it from observing the unchanging course of human affairs...

The security of human institutions and human life is established on this principle. For let us suppose that ambition stirs up against peace in the world one of those incarnate devils who, at different periods, have risen up to destroy the peace and good order of one community after another, and nation after nation. Gradually, the desire for excess caused by sudden prosperity depraves all virtues and robs the moral sense. The insolence of power tramples the laws of God and the rights of man... Here, when the day of victory burns with all-pervading radiance - here the mind itself pauses to foresee the change that is at hand. The winner must stop. Otherwise, only stones would cry. Day and night they fight against him; The elements he ruled rebelled and crushed him; the clouds thunder to destroy it; he is lifted up on rebellious spears between heaven and earth, unworthy and hateful of both, to perish.

TNAMURYA (anagram for Aunt Mary)

"When that spell which can only be felt is cast over the soul by the magic of genie, 'Now let your servant go where all genie is limitless - or let us remain forever in this grave, if we are so enlightened,' is the heart-worshipping language. Is it not a well-known principle of human nature that moments of enthusiasm can produce sacrifices that require no virtue compatible with those who never aspire to glory?"...


The invisible bond between heaven and earth, the solitary principle which unites intellectual beings to account and makes men moral beings - religion - is different and peculiar, both in its origin and its end, from all other relationships. It is important to the Universe. In vain do you try to observe the order of things apart from your existence. You cannot banish it any more than you can separate Space and Duration from yourself. Through all the perverse labyrinths and shadows of infidelity, the remote New England towns where she embarked were one of the strongest influences in his early life, quickening and expanding his thoughts as well as challenging him to defend his independence. He always acknowledged his deep debt to her. See “Mary Moody Emerson,” in herSpeeches eu Biographical Sketches.

The light still seems visible, until the reluctant mind shudders to recognize the eternal, all-pervading presence of the Deity. If you can abstract it from the Universe, the Soul is perplexed with a system of things of which no description can be given; examples of immense power - and no hands were found to mold them; a thousand creations in a thousand spheres all pointing upwards towards one point - and there is no object there to be seen and received - all this is one vast anomaly. Renew the religion and you will give these energies a higher purpose....

The history of religion includes circumstances of extraordinary interest, and this is nearly all that we can trace in the passing of the distant ages of the world. It is a beautiful picture, and just as it should be, that in the character of Noah, Abraham, and the first inhabitants of the world, we find no trait which does not exclusively belong to their religion; - that was their life. It was natural that when the mountains were still rising under the Creator's hand, when his arch was still built and painted in the sky, when the tables of stone had not yet been broken by Moses, which now lie rotting in fragments on Sinai - that men should walk with God. As we descend and leave the immediate surroundings of the tabernacle, though we become conscious of a progressive departure from the truth, every superstition retains the inherent beauty of its first form, disguised and disfigured, in some degree, by inappropriate and unnecessary clothing. . Indeed, the only record by which any nation's early periods are remembered is its religion. We know nothing of the first empires that held the scepter of the earth in Egypt, Assyria, or Persia, except their modes of worship. And this fact strongly suggests the idea that the only true and legitimate means of immortality, the only bond of connection that can transcend the long duration which separates the ends of the world and unites the first men with the knowledge and sympathy of the last men, is religion.

We said that the first nations were remembered for their religion; and tracing its history a little farther back in the time of written languages, we find that the first efforts which human genius made to connect its ideas with permanent signs were made upon the great theme which stood supreme in the uncorrupted mind. Poetry tried to form a plausible picture of creation, to explore the character of Providence, to impress mankind with the enlightened views of the moral government of the world which had been revealed to their own eyes.

But the date ofwritingmarks another era in the history of religion, and we part with the most attractive memory of the first. The naked savage who climbs a mountain - for the dark summit leads him to believe that the Great Spirit dwells there - and lifts a stone as his simple and sincere tribute to the Majesty of that being, is an object infinitely more pleasant to our imagination and feeling than a most sublime and excellent offering marked with the letter Science. And although reason teaches us that the deliberate devotion of a philosophical mind is more valuable than the vague fears of a superstitious mind, yet we are inclined to wonder whether the pride of learning is not known to harden the mind even to the clear proofs of Divine providence.

The difference between the primitive forms of religion and the second dispensation (as well as the first) consisted in the fact that the former were voluntary offerings of imagination and understanding to a sublime but invisible Spirit, and the latter were implicit renunciations of duty, custom. , to fear. That's why we sympathize more with the wild.

It is somewhat incredible that in the simple institutions of barbarian peoples God was worshiped in lofty and hideous images, and nothing vile and abominable was ascribed to his character. It was not necessary to repeat that Caesar found the Germanic nations without idols, deeming it unworthy to build him a house that would create the Universe; —or to rewrite the Indian creed of the Great Spirit, so scrupulously pure that it rejected what could not be reconciled from the evil world to the Benevolent Cause, and created an evil active contrary Principle into which to heap sin and storm, pain and death, which surround the human life. Such also was the Persian religion, which regarded fire as a not inappropriate symbol of divinity; and if the Druid sacrificed men upon the altar, the oak wood was a temple and was not offered to an ox or ass, but to the very notion of the Supreme Being. In all these, the ways of Providence are traced in hurricane, sea, cloud, or earthquake, and therefore one must have an elevated mind to converse with them. But as civilized life advanced, and civil and social institutions were lifted up, and life became more and more intellectual, piety was degraded by profane and vulgar idolatry; higher beings, the holiest feeling for which the human soul is capable, and for which it may have been created, it seems that reputation and name among honest patriots almost disappeared, and Olympus had to be cleansed of impurities, and the thrones of heaven be undermined for the peace of society. This fact, that the seeds of corruption are buried in the causes of improvement, strikes us everywhere in the political, moral, and national history of the world. It seems to indicate the intentions of Providence to limit human perfection and to link good and evil, like life and death, by an indissoluble bond... Ideacanhe seems to have been everywhere at the bottom of theology; the human mind has a tendency to direct all its highest feelings, all its veneration for virtue and greatness, towards something in which that attribute is supposed to reside. Cause and effect is another name for the direction of this feeling... What are honor, mercy, pride, humility, revenge - but feelings related to permanencecan?Honor is the value you give; Mercy, moderate tolerance of its manifestation; Pride, the self-respect that goes with its possession; Humility, recognition of one's own existence; Revenge, barbaric use. It is shared among all beings, but all have a limit and a beginning, to which the mind's eye hungrily clings, with a momentary attempt to trace the sources from which the subtle principle is derived. It is a great flood that envelops the universe and pours itself into innumerable channels to feed the sources of life and the needs of Creation, but everywhere it flows back and swallows it up in its eternal source. That source is God.

Will disputes about the nature of God, about trinitarianism and unitarianism cease to purer search and practical investigation? It is possible, as far as we know to the contrary, that God could exist in a threefold Unity; but if that were so, since it is inconceivable to us, he would never reveal to us such an existence that we cannot describe or understand it. Infinite Wisdom has laid the foundations of knowledge in the mind, so that two times two can never make anything but four. As soon as it can be otherwise, our faith is relaxed and the doctrine abolished. Three can be one, and one can be three.


It is the language of the passions which generally does not find its full expression in sober prose texts. We must base our argument on this: there seems to be a tendency in the passions to clothe imaginative views of objects in beautiful language. It seems to consist in the pleasure of discovering the connection between the material image and the moral feeling. Few people are sure when they start describing poetry; they speak at random or badly, prevent the ends of the verses from rhyming, and are like the mime of a madman gone mad. Poetry never offers a clear set of sensations. Science penetrates the heavens, philosophy explains their adaptation to our desires, and poetry captures their striking phenomena and unites them with the moral sentiments they naturally suggest. His images are nothing more than striking phenomena selected from Nature and Art and coated with a skilful combination of sounds... and depend exclusively on him without any abstract use.

Few things are dearer to the hearts of American literature sympathizers than our national poetry. For everything else, for science, morals and art, they are ready to wait for gradual development, but they are in a hurry to pluck the bright flowers from the beautiful tree that grows quickly on Mount Parnassus. Because when a nation finds time for the luxury and refinement of poetry, it removes the censure of slow genius and ignorant indifference.

Poetic expression serves to embellish dull thoughts, but we prefer to follow the poet, when the muse is so ethereal and the thought so sublime that the language sinks beneath it.


Saturday night,January 19.

When a type of composition is successfully written in a brilliant period, and in another and distant land it is also known, and after being discontinued and forgotten it is revived again in another age and in another land - we have every right to say that such art it is according to the dictates of nature. This is the story of drama, and it has every reasonable indication that it will flourish everywhere under favorable circumstances. It is also easy to distinguish those parts of it which are an unnatural and forced production of the state of society, and those which are the true result of the human spirit. In the Mysteries, a French drama of the Middle Ages, characters like "Such/*"Each one" and "Both" were presented on stage and played their roles with the same seriousness and public satisfaction. most successful men of all time, Iphigenia, Electra, Caesar. Such stupidity is apparently a fitting consequence of the age of schools and the comfort of confirmed pedantry. Does it not follow that if something is outside the normal course of human experience, it is not natural for drama, and cannot speak to ordinary actors. The representation of the dead agrees perfectly with the sentiments of the most refined taste, and has in all ages formed a part of dramatic entertainment. For the belief in invisible agents is so universal, and it is indeed a consequence of belief in God, that no mind ever revolts against the idea.

Scenography decoration has been an integral part of Dramaturgy since its inception.

This inevitably imposes itself as an essential element of the plot, which as a whole serves to deceive the audience into believing that the actors are reallythey arethe people they represent. The best way to promote illusion is to remove all external circumstances and give the imagination the help of all the senses. Regardless, it is a great pleasure to be suddenly removed from all the usual objects of everyday occurrence and to be able to see the spectacle of splendid cities, imposing mountain landscapes, thrones and magnificent clothes.

I rejoice in Shakespeare's empire as much as he is indifferent to learning which some fools count merit; but as it is kept in the senses, they deplore and abhor his government. It is for an even brighter age to erase their deformities and perhaps set a more powerful wizard over the witches of imagination. But for me - your former admirers, nothing could fill your place...


I was a spoiled child from the East. I was born where a gentle westerly gale blew over me the scent of cinnamon groves, and through the seventy windows of my hall the view fell on the Arabian harvest. One hundred elephants, dressed in cloth of gold, took my train to war, and the Great King's smile shone on Omer. But now - the broad Indian moon looks through the broken arches of my tower, and Desolation's wing surrounds me with poisonous air; spider threads are the tapestry that adorns my walls, and the night rain is heard in my halls by the song of cashmere daughters. Weep, weep for me, you who have clothed yourself in honor like a joyful garment!


Deep in the soul lies a strong illusion, A strange circle of beautifully formed dreams; And yet a sweetly pleasing sight swells Their joyous expanse around, The currents of wide space furnish them with riches, Their eternal springs bring legendary splendor, whose immortal hue Tints the scene with hues that mock the summer sky.

And how sweetly in the seraphim's soul of youth, That vision, like the light of heaven, rests.

His name is Life; its hours, its circle rolls Like angels in morning robes; And every ghost on the train is blessed Who ruffles his feathers in the fragrant air, Or lights a star in his blue; And while the lovely sheaf rests there, Joy in the harmless heart will prepare its welcome.

The circle of science is no more closely knit than the circle of virtue; but in the former one cannot hope to know them all completely, because they are in some degree incompatible; while, in the latter, his character will be deficient if he does not combine the whole and form that harmony which arises from everything.




BOSTON,February 22,1822.

In my turn I invoked the Muse, the fairies, the witches and Wisdom to direct my creations; I summoned imagination from within and nature from without; I summoned Time and gathered around the trifling business The hours of your train - But the Powers were unfavorable; fate was the other way around. Some other spell must be sung, some other song must be sung. I will dedicate it to the dead. The mind will anticipate a few passing hours and borrow its tone from what was and will soon be. All that adorns this world are the gifts they left behind as they passed through it. To these monuments that they left as a legacy, and to their shadows that lurk in space, I subscribe out of emotion, and I dedicate my short-term flowers.


Saturday night,February23.

No elaborate argument can remove the fact which strikes the senses, and which is the first and chief difficulty in the way of faith in an omnipotent good Principle, namely, the existence of evil in the world, and therefore the great part it plays in the world. the texture of human life and its successful opposition to virtue and luck. If we suppose the Author's character to be pure Goodness, the work must be equally pure, and the final failure takes Wisdom and Omnipotence (if one is not included in the other) from the quality of the Being being formed. , that is, - shows that he is not God. Human wisdom sees the imperfection of the part and tries to discern the perfection of the whole from the analogies of the universe which fall before its eyes, from its judgments about language which ascribes testimony to this Creator, and from the intuitive and learned conclusions which it forms in accordance with it. the nature.

But another great testimony to which the mind will naturally turn to confirm or obliterate its convictions of an overseeing hand is history; to see if Time will accomplish a greater part of that Justice which must take place than the life of one man. And this is a proof that grows every year, which could not have been opened to the primitive races of mankind, and which, if its weight is considered favorably, will develop until the last times the bonds that unite the destinies of many generations - a plan , of broad outline and intricate parts, about Emerson, that he would not look at the dark side of the world, at evil, at sin. He later considered his attempts to deal with these problems among childhood illnesses.

In "Spiritual Laws" 1st Series) he said: "The intellectual life can be kept pure and healthy, if a man lives the life of nature, and does not import into his mind difficulties that are not his own. Nobody should get confused in their guesses. Let him do and say what strictly belongs to him, and although he is very ignorant of books, his nature will not give him any intellectual hindrances and doubts. Our young people are suffering from theological problems of original sin, predestination and the like. They have never presented a practical difficulty to any man, - they have never obscured the path of any man who has not taken the trouble to look for them. They are mental mumps and measles and whooping cough, and those who have not contracted them cannot describe their health or prescribe a cure. A simple mind will not recognize these enemies.” which will reveal the obscure relations between one distant scene and another, in which the sequence of misfortune and suffering is balanced by an equal sum of happiness, and the unnatural success of vice, and its unwarranted supremacy over the ages and peoples of the world, are corrected again. for the triumphs of virtue over other times and peoples. Moralists looked upon the fitting of this great and bewildering variety into the human condition as the exposure to the universe of a great picture, in which, for the sake of the harmony of the whole, much is shrouded in deep shadows; and the painted figures must not complain to the Artist because they are arranged and colored in one way or another. But is this a fair view? Are free agents nothing more than painted badges? are - (but I have left my train of thought proper, and must return to it again) - I meant that it is history alone that can determine whether the means correspond to the end, and whether the design is fully realized in those schemes whose accomplishments span many ages; for instance, to discover the typical and direct relations between the Jewish and Christian dispensations; and see the fulfillment of prophecy. But whether these schemes are answered or not, the question still recurs - why did a good Providence allow evil to exist in the first place, or why does any individual suffer from the vices of others, or diseases and misfortunes which he does not bring upon? yourself, but what about your nature? The answer any individual can give to this question will go far to doubt or justify his idea of ​​Providence.

Perhaps it would be good as a solution to this question to propose and answer two more — What is evil? and, What is its origin?

What is evil? There is a response from every corner of this globe - from every mountain, valley and sea. The enslaved, the sick, the disillusioned, the poor, the unhappy, the dying, the survivors, cry out: It's here. Each man points to his abode or beats his chest saying: Here he is. An enumeration of some of society's most prominent ills will illustrate the variety and malignity of this disease.

What is the origin? The sin that Adam brought into the world and passed on to his children.

One of the best chapters in the Old Testament is the song of Deborah and Barak, Judges V. q


The novelist must tie the curd of his story to scenes or traditions so well known that they are impossible to believe and so obscure that they do not impose odious facts on the finished fraud he is weaving.


I have little reason, I sometimes think, to wish my Alma Mater well in person; I was often not flattered by success and every day felt humiliated by my own bad fate or bad behavior. However, when I went today to the ground where I thought the brightest thoughts of my little life and fulfilled a small measure of my knowledge, and I was sentimental for a while, and poetic for a while, and saw many pretty faces, and gave many beautiful walks, and enjoyed much pleasant, learned, or friendly company—I felt a multitude of pleasant thoughts, as I went from place to place, from room to chapel.

February28 of 1822.

Few of my pages have been filled as little to my own satisfaction as these - and why? - for the air has been so good, and my visits so pleasant, and I have been so full of agreeable social feelings, for the last day or two, that the mind has not sufficiently possessed the necessary cold and frigid tone to become sopropheticas it has been lately.Etsi my he thinks laus(me honor?) that's it that's why grande as ante a however happiness and satisfaction bigger for to feel Principles of love mi I believed To look my friend etsi unknown; other to look that's it on et knowing it could be eu I pray Deo, dio dio eu Pcenitet eu res grande to say sperm with words as novato UTI then to leave.

In the middle of the day in a lot of worries,

An unwanted thought will come,

And force the obedient blush to prepare

A reluctant welcome home;

And in the corners of the heart,

And in the cell of passion,

Invites my thoughts to start a battle,

What kind of guy would live peacefully.

Peace, contentment, pride, joy and sorrow,

Awaken the wild chaos, -

But even worse and a damn relief

What sense and argument deceived. (Mostly, indifference.)

So much poetry for peculiar sources of pride, ancient and deep-rooted, and perhaps later incomprehensible. It's still worth guessing someone's feelings and I want to remember the date (like the one on the last page)...

A wonderful thought suddenly dawned on me, without any connection I could find to previous streams of thought and feeling. It had no analogy with any notion I remembered forming; he surpassed all others in the energy and purity with which he dressed; it was placed by all the others for the novelty it carried and for the understanding it deposited in every fiber; for a while he absorbed all other thoughts; — all faculties — each in his cell, prostrated himself and adored before this new Star. “You who wander between the living and the dead, over flowers or between cherubs, in real or ideal universes, whisper not my thoughts!


... Loneliness has but a few victims, and it can be innocent, but it can hardly be very virtuous like Abraham, like Job, like the Roman Regulus or the apostle Paul. Great works, by their very nature, are not done in the closet; they are executed in the face of the sun, and in the name of the world...


One of quo above I said, that's it off sed menu It seems that that's it to be that's why powerful that's why that's why grande as I am scared That's it bi pao Expect ut



The breathless solitude in the cabin in the woods under the glorious glow of this moonlight and with this autumnal freshness could drive one crazy. Steep and gloomy mountains, dense forests and distant winding rivers must sleep in the light and add their charm to the allure. Silence broken only by the distant cry of a night bird; or disturbed by the distant cry of the peasant, or, sometimes, by that melancholy wail of the wind that speaks so expressively in the ear, — who would not wonder? Let the hours flow without number, let the universe sleep in this glorious repose, but let the spell be unbroken by anything in this world, by cares vulgar and disturbing; regret or thought that can remind us of anything other than nature. Here is her paradise, here is her throne. The stars roll silently in their paths; the oaks sway in their forests with the voice of the sighing breeze; the cliff-top flowers sag over its vertiginous rim, and the adoring lover stands at his tent door silent and happy, while the leaves whisper from the highest boughs and cover his feet A cry in the desert! the cry and sudden sound of desolation! I mourn for him who rides in darkness until midnight; who stretches out his hand to darken the moon and extinguish all the stars. Look! where ghastly opulence now rolls to the corners of heaven; a fiery shape covers its terrible brow behind a shard of stormcloud, and the eyes of Creation watch the speeding chariot. Look! he rises in the Universe and splits the firmament from side to side with his hands. And when he stepped on the dragons, I saw a name burning underneath. Wake up, oh wake up, you who watch the Universe! Time, Space, Eternity, ye Living Energies, - for your name is DESTRUCTION! - which guardScepterof his eternal order, for he has reached his treasures, and he gropes for his scepter to break it in pieces. Another scream was heard, like the clash of shattered spheres, the voice of dying worlds. It's night. "An extremely noisy sight!"


Never mistakenly consider yourself great or made for greatness, because you have been visited by a dim, dim hope that something is in store for you beyond your ordinary destiny. It is easier to aspire than to act. The very idleness that gives you leisure to dream of honor is an insurmountable obstacle between you and her. Those who are properly equipped for the grueling passage from mediocrity to greatness rarely find the time or appetite to satisfy that hungry, tumultuous demand for excitement which weaker intellects tend to exhibit. That which helps them to become eminent is itself enough to occupy the attention of all their powers and fill a painful void. Greatness never comes upon a man suddenly and without his efforts or consent; No, it's a different kind of Genie who suddenly crosses his path; That's itPovertywho travels armed; That's itContemptthat finds you in corners and for a New England boy. In recent years, Mr. Emerson recited to his children, in imitative fashion, some fragments of his college oratory which still lingered in his memory. squeaky roads, IAngerthat hits you like lightning. Greatness is a quality no one gets credit for anytime soon; it must be owned long before it is recognized. I also don't think it's as absolutely rare and unattainable as is commonly thought. Precisely this and the eagerness for it, which was alluded to, is in a way a pledge of the possibility of success. God undoubtedly designed to form minds of different shapes and to create differences in intellect; the still extraordinary effects of education confirm the ability to improve to an indefinite degree....

Newton was often lost when the conversation turned to his own discoveries; Shakespeare was indifferent or opposed to the publication of his works, and lazily left his books, himself careless, for others, for Britain or the world to boast about. It is impossible to do an arithmetic calculation. However, this indifference to trifles and sensitivity to them draws a very wide line of distinction between the first and second order...

I'm not sure, but the highest order of magnitude, the one that abandons earthly blood kinship and connects with immortal minds, is the one that exists in darkness and is least known among mankind. Because superior intellects are attracted to society only by the action of those incentives which society gives them. If, therefore, there be any who are above the pursuit of wealth, honor, and influence, and who can laugh even at the love of fame, the last weakness of noble minds, there is nothing worth offering them, to attract them. them out. of his solitude; they must pass through their discipline and life education, unsympathetic, unknown, or perhaps, ignorantly despised. Thus archangels pass among us unseen, for if they were known they could not be appreciated, and as they possess faculties and energies which our organs can never measure, it is better that we never meet.



The knight rode to the castle gate,

But the scary witch was there,

She babbled in defiance, with a muttered threat,

And twisted her fine gray hair.

His half-bald head was a pitiful sight,

But her eyes widened to the side;

Two long canine teeth, like a dark twilight,

It glistened over her lips so blue.

"Beautiful lady of love!" The knight exclaimed and bowed his body,

"You flower of beauty, widely known,

The roses feed you, I throw them away.

"Boy Cupid follows you,

May your sister's graces;

Oh give me a lock of your golden hair

And make me a faithful knight."

The girl clenched her wrinkled fist,

And his eyes were red with rage:

"You may mock, Sir Simple, however high you number,

But youhe must to bemy page (selected).

"I'll give you the lock of hair that's left,

I will give you three hairs;

Beelzebub knows when I'm sad,

I will be stronger."

She plucked three hairs from her bald head,

And he shouted loud as a fish horn, -

Three snakes were made from these hairs,

That was fine with the champion;

And one wrapped around his armed neck,

And one on each arm,

And the tails of the three met in a black braid

In a scary haggis hand.

And the witch she turned into a green dragon,

With these she flew away, -

And they never saw each other again,

Until Judgment Day.

This book is, as a rule, dedicated in a special way to original ideas, but I cannot resist the pleasure of writing down in black and white the verses that I have repeated so many times. It's a charm on one of Ben Jonson's masks.

"A fairy ray in you,

May the stars shine for you,

light moon,

At midnight,

Until the fire dragon left you.

The wheel of fortune guides you,

The boy with the bow by his side

Run away on the way,

Even the bird of the day,

And greater happiness awaits you."


... It is itself the noblest and most magnificent subject, and the one to which all others seem to be tributary, ... how the combined energies of many millions of coexisting agents may be brought into action, with their truly infinite influence, continually in the direction of their secure interests, for time and for ever; and how the improvement achieved can be maintained, and how the separated and conflicting energies can be reconciled, and that Mind will reap all the fruits of the body's labor...



... Life is the spark that ignites the soul and opens its capacities to receive the great lessons it is destined to learn about the Universe — about Good — about Evil — about responsibility — about Eternity; beauty, happiness. The priceless moment in which the history of past ages opens, explains its own relations with the Universe, shows its dependence and independence; time to catch up with your feelings and gratify them, to associate in gentle bonds with other beings of similar destiny; the time to create a citizen of unknown spheres; the time to serve the Lord.

And is it good to die? to exchange this precious consciousness capable of such high purposes for an unknown state (of which everything that is seen is horrible); maybe for a dark dream? Is it good to be forced against one's will and through extreme suffering, from the vital body, and to leave that organ of our enjoyment and suffering to the worms, until we know what will become of the soul? We tremble when the question is raised, and terror, terror shatters the vain refinement of philosophy and the fence of affectation.

Reason makes us wonder, who is the being that forces the mind into this unknown state? Nature and Revelation have taught us something about this being. We are reduced to fixing our views of death entirely on his character and will, and Death will become more or less terrible according to our notions of the Lord of Death.

So I have sufficiently accomplished my purpose in this book to warrant my dedication on the first page. This will not prevent me from continuing topics after the slightest indication of my noometer.


In connection with the remarks on the DramaSim.3] it must also be said that this art is, of course, the most attractive of all. Others speak to man from a distance, through cold and distant associations. The literature of a generation is generally addressed to only a small section of society; of his contemporaries, history and poetry are confined to a few readers; philosophy and science even less; but the trained muse impatiently emerges from these abstractions, to popularly and intelligibly repeat the actions of the closet, to copy the ways of high and low life, to act from the heart; and manages, thus avoiding the haughty bow of the queens of Parnassus, to attract crowds with strings of love. Folly wins where wisdom fails; and the policy of increasing our attractions, even at the cost of intelligence, is seldom regretted. It is the excellence of a drama that intends nothing more than to be a true portrait of life.


The origin of fiction is buried in the darkness of ancient times. If it were a matter of any importance, perhaps its secret sources were not yet beyond the investigator's reach. To paint what is unnatural should be less pleasing to the mind than to describe what is. "Nothing" (said the author of An Essay on Human Understanding) "is so beautiful to the eye as truth is to the mind." But if we look again, I suspect we'll find the source to be a fairy tale.human misery;that relieving an hour of life, by awakening sympathy for the story of an imaginary joy, was considered a laudable achievement; and honor and gold belonged to him, whose rare talent snatched, for a moment, the memory of care and pain. Fantasy, which is always a kind of contradiction to life and truth, has taken a path as far removed from all human scenes and circumstances as possible; and therefore the first legends dealt entirely with monstrous scenes, and filled the old mythology and childish lore with magicians, griffins, and shapeshifters, which offend the ear of the palate, and alone could overcome the credulity of the savage race and the simplicity of the race. . child. Reason, however, soon taught the bard that deception was infinitely improved by shrinking within the compass of probability; and other fiction introduced imaginary people into real-life customs and dwellings.



No talent is more valued in society than that wisdom which extracts from passing events fair and profound conclusions about their future conclusion. The names of Burke, Fox and Pitt are deservedly held in high esteem in the world for the success of their political predictions. Because he advocates the single elevation of the mind to so calmly generalize the conflicting interests and prejudices of fate, to see something inevitable in the almost accidental coincidence of things, to throw the dice in the maelstrom of events and rest in confidence that it will happen. turn back. This, however, is but a vague approach to the majesty of that extraordinary prediction which was shown in the first ages of the world and called the Prophecy. For one is of inferior origin, and depends entirely on a wise comparison of the present with past events, and a critical attention to the prejudices and results of forms of government, national character, popular enthusiasm. Another clings to cues that are invisible to other eyes and has a new ability to communicate with the universe. He does not follow the general progress of things to the general result, but singles out, with admirable clearness, one man or event, to which his lips were opened; and, entirely devoid of any apparent trace of his knowledge, he describes, with unmistakable accuracy, the character, circumstances, and use of things buried in the future of many ages. It perceptibly elevates our notions of the human mind, revealing in it that latent ability to traverse the contingencies of time, to determine fate beyond the possibility of cross-change. It is a faculty which every soul desires to enjoy in the future, and its development here is a distinct mark of the hand of Providence, and an earnestness to the soul of the undisturbed vision to come...

[Wide World, no. 5, is missing from the Diaries.]



"Maximum delivery tempo,"laughing vanity. "Burn the trash," says Fear.

There rests the aurora borealis

With red flames in bright circles

Like a wreath of ruby ​​roses

On the dark front of the night.


BOSTON,April14 of 1822.

In the past, while the existence of America was still a secret to the inhabitants of Europe in the heart of time, on the Mountain of the South Chimborazo dwelt a giant, who extended his beneficent dominion over hills, clouds and continents, and maintained a connection with his mother Nature. He lived for two hundred years in that rich country, creating peace and justice, fighting and killing mammoths. At the top of the mountain, amid the snow of every winter, there was an entrance to a cave lined with gold ore. This hollow, called the "Golden Lips", descended into the center of the mountain, which was a vast and spacious temple, all its walls and ceilings shining with pure gold. Man has never polluted it with his artistic tools. Nature has created a powerful dwelling for your child's gazebo. At noon, the vertical sun was perpendicular to the hollow and shed all its glory on the mirror floor; its reflected rays shone on all sides from the ribbed roof with a splendor that outshined the former glory of Solomon's temple. In the center of this sumptuous palace, bareheaded and alone, the Giant Caliph performed an indescribable rite and studied the lines of fate. When the sun reached the meridian, a line of light traced this inscription on the wall: - "A thousand years, a thousand years, and the Hand will come and rend the veil for all." Two thousand years have passed, and the mighty progress of improvement and civilization has formed the force that will reveal Nature to man. To roll around the edges of this Mystery and ascertain and describe its pleasant wonders - let this be a journey through my Wide World. OHandwill come; — I outlined its contours in the morning mist.


Tuesday night,Aprili6.

It is strange that the world is so dear that we speculatively and seriously admit it to be so dissatisfying and so dismal. Not all his grandest garments, When nature is dressed at her best, And when art strives to please, Nor the bright sun alone, Nor the flaming firmament Where he stands as chief, Can hinder a man, at certain times, to say to his soul — “It is vanity.” No wild conjecture, no elaborate reasoning can overcome this testimony to the known truth, that the human spirit has a higher origin than matter, a higher home than the earth; that he is too spacious to be always deceived over trifles, and too long-lived to merge with mortality...

Philosophy has established that luminous matter is always dissipated; it is the truth without the metaphor of this shining world that continues to decay, but still attracts with its false splendor.


For me, it's a big question whetherpopulationof all ages is essentially the same in character. I am not a competent judge to decide whether inconsistent institutions will affect and alter salient features of moral character. There can be no doubt that from both poles to the equator, under every sun, a man will be found.selfishand comparatively indifferent to the general welfare, whenever placed in competition with private interest. But in China, as in Venice, will the faction and the cabal always watch over the continuation of every administration, good or bad? Will the common blood always rebel and rise up against the honorable, virtuous, and wealthy members of the same society? Will the good always be in danger from the evils and threats of the bad? In the answers to these questions, the truth reluctantly leads to the affirmative. This is certain - that war is waged in the Universe, without truce or end, between virtue and vice; they are Light and Darkness, they cannot be reconciled. On Earth, they are united by force, and the constant struggle they lead separates man from man across the world with a clear line.


Saturday night.April.

I rejoice in the full and unquestionable testimony which confirms the sufferings of the martyrs, as the most undeniable merit of the human race; it proves the existence of consistency and strength of character that would otherwise seem chimerical to ordinary minds... In those moments when a desperate look at the wrong side of society sometimes completely shakes our beliefs, and reason almost stoops to doubt and atheism, for the world is fragile or mad, this salutary memory comes like an angel of light to convince us that men suffered the ferocity of torture, endured and died for the faith... To keep divine law intact, they violated the law of nature and the original fears of man and dared to set fire to this mysterious existence and tempt the abysses of the future...


Habit is a thing of a complex character which forges chains for human nature at the same time as it announces its consistency and independence. It is complete and perfect slavery, but man has voluntarily imposed it on himself. It is a noble foresight that immediately determines actions that will be permanently right and makes a decision accountable for a thousand and, once made, binds to divine power. When we consider it asinstrument—if we place them in the hands of Vice and Virtue, both of which they can manage with certain and immense advantage, we shall have an adequate idea of ​​their importance in the constitution of human life. In childhood, everyone receives the power to choose between virtue and vice, to whom they will entrust the service of this magic wand.

Each movement of the Archangel can be free and independent of any previous movement.

Tuesday night.It could7.

In the midst of my illnesses, pains and torments, I will write to see if my brain has disappeared. Just a day or two ago we had windYearly;that I discovered byIt is,that the same thoughts and temper I had a year ago are coming back to me. But this sun shines, and these bad winds blow over a person changed into a state, into hope. I was then delighted with my recent honours, passing my chamber (Hollis 9), flushed and proud of the poet's fancies, and the day they were to be displayed; satisfied with ambitious prospects, but careless because he does not know the future. But now I am a hopeless teacher, just entering the years of a craft to which there are no clear limits; toiling at this wretched job without even the slightest satisfaction of doing it well, because the good people are suspicious of me and the geese don't like me. So look at it again: there was pride in being a schoolboy, and a poet, and somewhat romantic in my strange acquaintance of -, and poverty was not at all demeaning in the meeting of two young men whom their mutual acquaintance and erudite character equaled; But when one becomes a loose teacher and the other thrives on good company and classy friends, the look on their faces when they meet changes a bit. Hope, it is true, still, though from afar, hangs its cheerful banners; but i found her a cheat once, twice, many times, and will i trust a cheat again? And what am I better two, four, six years late? Nine months have passed, and apart from a few Wideworlds snippets, half a dozen general terms, etc., I am exactly the same humble servant of the world who left the University in August. Good people will tell me that it is a trial and a lesson to my character, to make me fitter for the service to which I aspire; but if I come off as a dejected, mature, heartbroken villain - how can the man or I be any better? Now, I didn't think, all this time, that I complained about fate, though I suppose it's the same; these are the suggestions of only a disillusioned mind thinking of castles falling through the air. My fate is enviable in contrast to the fate of others; I only have myself to blame for not having the right to build them. — VALDO E.

it makes a big difference whether the turtle shrinks back into its shell injured or unharmed.”

I will bless Cadmus, or Chad, or Hermes, who invented letters and written language - you, my dear little world, deriving your pedigree from that beautiful event.

It could13.

In twelve days I will be nineteen years old; which I consider a miserable thing. Has any educated person lived so many years and lost so many days? I'm not saying that I acquired so little, because for peace of mind and a certain relaxation of the mind, perhaps I was the object of as many ideas as my age. But my approaching maturity is accompanied by an exhilarating sense of emptiness and depleted capacity; with the conviction that vanity was content to admire a small circle of natural attainments, and repeatedly traveled in a narrow circle, instead of diligently adding gems of knowledge to their number. Too weary and lazy to take the mountain road that leads to good learning, wisdom, and fame, I must content myself with looking with envious eyes at the arduous journey and ultimate success of my fellows, remaining immovable myself, until my inferiors and juniors caught up and overtook me. And how long will this last? How long shall I put up with a little activity which four or six years ago I flattered myself that I found enviable, but which has now become contemptible? It's a kid's place, and if I keep it any longer I can go on bowling and rattling, grow old with a childish red jockey on my gray head and a picture book in my hand instead of Plato and Newton. Well, I was also the one who harbored glowing visions of future greatness that might seem presumptuous and silly now. My childhood fancy was the idolatry of glory, and did not consider itself a claimant to the honors of those outstanding in the community, and dared even compete for glory with those who had been sanctified by time and the approval of the ages. There was little merit in conceiving such encouraging hopes, and it offered a dim prospect of the possibility of their realization. This hope was fed and ignited by the occasional exalted communications which I was bestowed with from the Heaven of the Muses, and which occasionally made me the organ of extraordinary sentiments and sentiments far above my ordinary train. And with this lingering glow of better hope (I mean this beautiful euphoria which from time to time animates my clay) I must give up all aspiration to belong to that family of giant minds who live long on earth and rule the world when its bones are sleeping, even so under the pyramid or the primrose? No, I'll entertain the angel some more.

Look then from the history of my intellect to the history of my heart. Empty, my lord. I don't have the affection of a pigeon. Ungenerous and selfish, cautious and cold, I still want to be romantic; I don't have enough feelings to give a natural and warm welcome to a friend or a stranger, and yet I send out wishes and fantasies of friendship with a man I've never met. There is not in all God's universe (I do not understand my relation to Himself) a being to whom I am bound by warm and complete devotion - none to whom I have joined fate for good or ill, none whose interests are near and dear to me; — and I say this at man's most sensitive age. Perhaps in a few years, if I inhabit this world, or even longer, if I don't, these terrible confessions will appear; they can and need not, - that is the true picture of a barren and desolate soul.

(I remember hearing that incredible eloquence of Mr. Otis last night at Faneuil Hall, which surprised and delighted me more than anything I had ever seen.)

I love my wide worlds.

My body weight is 144 pounds. "In two weeks I intend,Deo voluntarilymake the journey on foot.

In a month I will answer the question if the satisfaction was only inanything.


Go hide the shields of war,

The voice and the spear,

Feather of pride and scimitar,

There are trophies on the scaffold.

They dug a thousand graves

Today in Marathon;

Your lament is echoed by the waves

Who wash the murdered.

The hearth is abandoned, the Furies are fed, -

Wake up, girls of Athens! his lament for the dead.

The golden chariot of the Persian,

and the image of the sun

In the light flashing fast and far away

Marathon O'er eho.

He mourns his dead beam,

Your host dead and broken,

He curses the dream of glory that lured him to lose himself.

Your crown of roses is stained with blood

And the Genie of Asia screams Shame! dead.

I! Minerva! Hello!

What is the stupid Argive Harp?

Triumph fills the storm,

Laurel winners are coming!

There's a light in Victory's eyes

Which none but God can give;

And a name can never die -

Apollo bids live.

The daughters of music learned your name,

And Athena and the Earth will resound with your glory.

It could24 of 1822.

And now it's Friday night and I've come to bid a brief farewell to my pleasant Wide World and begin my journey tomorrow. I expect many pleasures in my fortnight's absence, but neither is my temper so fickle and cheerful, nor my ardor so strong, that my expectations should rule out the possibility of disappointment. I am so young an adventurer that I am alive to regret and feel feelings for so small an occasion as this farewell; though, from my whispered curses to the school, it may be concluded that a brief reprieve from its mortification would be exceedingly agreeable. I may also remark here, that I never suspected so great a feeling as that which arose in me when I took leave of Mrs. E. on the beach and saw such a kind lady get into the boat down those steep steps from the wharf among the sailors and workmen; and leaves her home coast for Louisiana without a single friend or relative to accompany her to the coast and see her off. “As for me, they introduced me to her on the pier. Her husband behaved very well. God hurry them!

mem. certain lines inAntonio eu cleopatraof the "bow of love so steadfast," etc.; Meet. As a tragedy, Hamlet is a noble masterpiece: it can only be described and described in superlatives. There is a deep, subtle wit, with infinite variety, and every line is golden.

Sunday night,June9.

If a man could only go into the country once, for a rare exhibition, or if God would permit but one individual to observe the majesty of nature, I think the merit and magnificence of art would suddenly fall to the ground. For take away the cheapness and ease of acquisition which lessen our estimation of its value, and who could suddenly find himself alone in green fields where all the firmament meets the eye at once, and the splendor of forests, clouds, and hills pours over the mind - no supernatural animation? After mountain solitude, one immediately feels a tangible upliftment and greater claim to one's rights in the universe. Anyone who wanders through the woods realizes how natural it was to the pagan imagination to find gods in every deep grove and near every spring. His nature seems to be not silent, but eager and eager to get into the music. Every tree, flower, and stone he invests with life and character; and it is impossible that the wind that blows such an expressive sound through the leaves - means nothing ... The empty hut and the lonely country house present you with the same mixed picture of sincerity and meanness, pride and poverty of feeling, fraud and charity, which are bricked up in the city. Each pleasant feature is balanced by a somewhat painful one. To an outsider, simplicity of manner is charming and brings back the memory of Saturn's Arcadian realm; and the primitive custom of greeting each traveler is an acceptable acknowledgment of common sympathies and common nature. But from the need for a higher class in society, from the admirable republican equality which makes one equal to all, there arises a coarseness and sometimes savagery in behavior which may be abhorrent to the polished and polished man.



In man there are two natures, body and spirit, whose aspirations are as wide as the universe divided, and from whose wonderful union it results that he is always encouraged by the visible and eloquent image of Truth, towards immortal perfection, and drawn aside by the painful pursuit of raw but fascinating pleasure. The worst way in which temptation tempts our weakness is when it conspires to make the soul the subject of the senses, winning the mind over to the pleasures of high feeling and high fiction, and insinuating amidst this pageant of moral beauty its pernicious inducements. to crime. and incitement to madness. It is a fatal twilight, in which darkness is sown with light, until depraved judgment learns to think that the whole spectacle is more harmonious and more suited to its feeble human feeling. But rest assured, the lights will be less and less, and shadow will be added to shadow....

The Platonist...was not far off the mark when he declared the existence of two warring principles, an incorruptible mind and a mass of evil matter. It was a faith that the infallible church often cursed as heresy; lucky if they never invented worse. In their attempts to escape this innate depravity, and to correct the imperfection of nature, they erred with delirious fervor; but eternal truth laid the foundation of their belief....

(Video) Ralph Waldo Emerson important points to remember

The theory of drama is itself so beautiful, and so well worked out that it works well, that we feel a great pity that its all-contracting interest, its matchless power of imparting instruction, and the pleasure inspired by its common decorations, should be so miserably perverted in the service of the public. sin. It can aid virtue, and lend its skillful powers to the adornment of truth; its first form was a hymn to the gods and a voice attentive to human weakness and human passion. Now it seduces Pleasure and leads to Death, and the shadows of Eternity hang over its end.

I think it is well known that half an hour's conversation with a friend does more for a man than many letters; because, face to face, everyone can clearly express their own views; and every main objection was initiated and answered; and, moreover, a more definite notion of a man's feelings and intentions, in regard to the subject, is obtained by his appearance and tone of voice, than can be obtained on paper. It is, therefore, an allusion borrowed from Nature, when the moral lesson is conveyed to the audience in the attractive form of dialogue, and not in the silence of the book or the cold soliloquy of the orator. When this didactic dialogue is enriched by the addition of pathetic or romantic circumstances, and, instead of indifferent speakers, we are presented with characters of great and good men, heroes and demigods, adding to the sentiments thus expressed the immense weight of virtuous life and character - the wit of invention is doubled. Ultimately, the overall moral is drawn from the event that all parts of the play tend to end; this is what is called the distribution of poetic justice, and it is nothing but the inevitable conclusion of some great moral truth, which the mind readily brings up, when things are reversed. For greater pleasure, we combine music, painting and poetry, knowing that the splendor of the decoration will captivate the eye, after the mind is tired. These are understood advantages of dramatic art. Truths which are otherwise insolent are uttered with admirable effect in this short summary of life; and every philosophical Christian must lose heavily from religion, the instrument of such tested powers.


... Simonides well said: "Give me twice as much time, because the more I think, the more it increases"; and this is just a mathematical truth; for when the subject is infinite, it must be that, in proportion as discipline increases the faculty of power to apprehend a part of the line, more lines will be continually discerned, extending above and beyond the strained spheres of the imagination. Yet it is evident in the generous endowment of the human intellect that provision has been made to enable it to advance to some knowledge of that One whom we worship in darkness. Witness some of these admirable demonstrationsexistence eu attributesupon which minds in various ages have fallen, and which we have recorded as the best monuments of human intelligence. And this I regard more as a glimpse and earnestness of the light which will be kindled upon the soul when its voluminous bodily bond is severed - of the glory which will be revealed - than any solitary or accidental discovery which may be unconnected with the past. . or the future. For is it not natural to believe that - of earth and men of clay - divinity is a great inspiring theme absorbing the admiration and devotion of the disembodied spirits that inhabit its creation? And is it not to be supposed that the soul will be provided with some understanding of its power when it steps onto the scene where its divinity is displayed? A crippled child on earth stutters the name of God; and the archangel, whose gigantic intelligence describes the formation of the sky, will be silent under the Cloud itself? Mankind has naturally imagined that the joy of this spiritual possession consists in the pleasure and enjoyment of certain high intellectual exercises, of which our best and highest reflections give some feeble symbol. And this concept is natural and according to your condition; for they have left the barrier of the material universe and now live in the majesty of thought, in the mind's great and inconceivable dependence on the great Source of intelligence, and are therefore in a position to proceed with investigations that have ridiculed investigations. of finite being, but which invite inquiry from those for whom the sources are the open wisdom and wealth of the invisible state. In this state and under these circumstances, a little meditation will make it clear that there is no thought, in heaven or on earth, which can concentrate and absorb both the living spirit and the idea of ​​God.

What will divert our attention and fix our feelings on the long, long Day when the faculties will enjoy eternal exercise? Perhaps in the fellowship of departed wisdom and virtue; in the company of Socrates, Plato and S. Let it be; it is a rational and authoritative hope. We respect and admire the lives and characters of these distinguished individuals; they seemed to possess an intimate knowledge of the deepest principles of philosophy, and at the same time the power to express them with the most perfect simplicity in their conversations and in their books. It is natural to look to these great lords of mankind as qualified in another state to give us an introduction to their mysteries and joys.

But think for a moment, can the celestial spirit be so enchanted that it prefers the little flights of the spirit that is its mate to the inconceivable intellect that ignites and surpasses everything. Let him compare for a moment the history of the two Beings. One lived on earth for its length, and then was swallowed up by a crowd of people, leaving no trace of its existence, except perhaps a little book, or its name, or its monument. But if your mind is strained to a high pitch, try to understand the Other's story; — A brook without a source, an age without childhood, — the mind vainly resorts to its highest antiquity to seek the beginning of the Primeval. It can trace just a few days of its history in the immensity of its works. In a few days he built the world and the firmament, and in the darkness of the Universe the sun shone; he created man and beast; he organized the stations and saw to the preservation of the established Order; he developed a rainbow and gathered the clouds, the storehouses of his hail, lightning and thunder. That immeasurable existence in so insignificant a portion, on which the eyes of all mankind rest in wonder—we consider it to have been spent in similar work throughout his infinite realm; and that Being worthy of prostrate adoration to whom we ascribe eternity, whose every moment is marked by providence's plan of preservation, the plan of redemption, the information of the angelic intellect, or the creation of the world. One of the main reasons why the human soul is so prone to neglect or avoid this idea is because it is so unsatisfying, because it is almost entirely beyond the realization of our feeble powers; but in a higher state, when that weakness is removed, and our faculties are taught to ascend to the Throne itself, I need not ask whether the mind can be so blind as to admire the spark, in the presence of that fire whence it comes.

Sunday morning.

We hope that heavenly happiness depends on such matters. Some will believe and some will deny that any approximation to such spiritual elevation can be achieved on Earth. The reasons why we are no longer attracted to each other are clearly visible and lie within ourselves. [Because] the mind does not yet exist, but is in its infancy and awaiting development in the other world. But there have been men in various periods of time in the world who, by some extraordinary luck or incredible effort, have become less subject to the promptings of reason, and have somehow turned away from the tendencies and habits of men to carry on a strict conversation with the attributes of the Deity, and, in the express language of the Hebrew historian,to do to walk s Swamp.And there are certain benefits in that extended fellowship that sometimes appears, to give direction and help with the ills of nature. An astronomer who, owing to the smallness of the Earth, could learn almost nothing about the distance and size of celestial bodies, can still take advantage of their revolutions around the Sun and thus move his instruments. space, over the vast orbit of your planet; so that the lapse of time may sometimes permit the devout philosopher to follow the plan of Providence, which is otherwise beyond his comprehension, reducing to a miniature view the magnificent course of events.

The being we adore must necessarily be wonderful. Where did we get an idea - so different from our other ideas - something so transcendent and sublime?... The only answer we are forced to receive is that the Intelligence which molded our minds so adapted them to adequate notions of itself from the exhibition of his works, or the awareness of his own existence. What must be that existence to which every star, every leaf, every drop in creation testifies, by its strange and inexplicable formation! To this object the eyes of all generations have been successively directed, by a universal instinctual impulse; and we are moved by a part of the same inspiration when we pronounce the great name of God. And when silent creation directs our inquiries to Him with irresistible force, it becomes a truly admirable sight to behold this wise sympathy for all nature, imperfect beings consenting to worship perfection.

If there was any genital origin

May the eternal land be heavenly,

Why, above the Theban war and the burial of Troy,

Don't other poets also sing other things?


I know of nothing more suitable for concluding the remarks made in the last pages than certain beautiful heathen verses.

..."of dewy leaves and bright flowers

Therefore! Get out of my way

Misleading images! insignificant performances!

My soul absorbs, a single being knows,

Of all perceptions, an abundant source,

Therefore, every object, every moment flows,

The sun gets its power from there,

Hence the planets learn their course;

But fading suns and worlds I see no more,

Only I perceive God, only I adore God!"

[Narayena;sir William jones



What gave this impetus to Greece, which can be said to have created the literature that was communicated to the world through Rome?

It is a strange sight for a contemplative man to watch a small population of twelve or twenty thousand men over several generations working their minds more diligently than men are accustomed to, and accomplishing something entirely new and strange; to see them again lying in darkness, while all the nations of the world rise up to pay them respect in vain; and all the wisest among them who exhaust their powers to make a pale imitation of some excellence of Greece in her age of glory; to see that admiration continue and grow as the world ages, and with all the advantages of 6,000 years' experience to find those departed artists without comparison. It is certainly the most virile literature in the world, composed of stories, speeches, poems and dramatic plays, in which there is no hint of adaptation to the whims of fashion or patronage. Simplicity is a hallmark of the productions of all old masters. On their most wonderful statue they were content to engrave, "Apollodorus, the Ephesians, did her;" and we respect republican brevity which, instead of a funeral study on a drama performed with boundless applause, simply wrote: "Placuit" (that dear one).


"Let's weave a wreath and weave chi,

As the wild waves break our iron wire;

Tomorrow these waves may wash our graves,

And the moon looks down on the ruined land."

The islanders who sang that sad song, predicting the evil fate that awaited them, have passed away. No girded chief sits on his dark rocks To watch his tribe dance under the moon's yellow glow; the roar of the waves is the only voice in their silent land; the wail of the waves is the only requiem for the brave who are buried on the beach or in the sea. But memory of him has not perished among men; the sad notes that foreshadowed his downfall gave him immortality. For there is a charm in poetry which unites the world and finds its effect in East and West.

"Don't let me go down the path like a worm."





BOSTON,July11 of 1822.

I dedicate my book to the Spirit of America. I dedicate it to that living soul, who exists somewhere beyond imagination, to whom Divinity has assigned the care of this bright corner of the Universe. I bring my little offering, this month, which covers the continent with incomparable beauty, to the shrine, which distant generations will carry with sacrifice, and distant ages will admire from afar. With a spark of prophetic devotion, I hasten to greet the Genie, who still reckons the late years of childhood, but who unconsciously grows in the twilight and increases in strength, until the hour when he breaks through the cloud, to show his colossal youth. , and covers the firmament with the shadow of his wings.


It is a slow patriotism that forgets to love until the whole world sets an example. If the nations of Europe can find something to idolize in their ruined and enslaved institutions, we are pleased, while we are amazed at their contentment. But let them not mock the pride of the American ignorantly, as misplaced or unfounded, when that free man imperfectly expresses his sense of condition. He rejoices in the birthright of a country where freedom of thought and action is so perfect that every man enjoys exactly the respect to which he is entitled, and every mind, as in the bosom of a family, sets and sets up a comparison of his forces with those of his fellows, and quietly occupies the attitude which nature has destined for him. He singles out his homeland as the only one where freedom has not degenerated into licentiousness; in whose well-ordered regions live education and intelligence with good morals; whose rich estates pass peacefully from father to son, untouched by private violence or public tyranny; whose offices of trust and seats of science are full of minds of republican vigor and elegant achievement. Xenophon and Thucydides would have thought it a subject more worthy of their powers than Persia or Greece; and his revolution will give Plutarch a list of heroes. If the Constitution of the United States survives a century, it will be the subject of deep congratulations to the human race; for the Utopian dreams to which visionaries aspired and sages exploded, will find their beautiful theories rivaled and surpassed by the reality which God has been pleased to bestow upon the United States.

Saturday night,July13.

(Continued from Wide World, #6)

I suggested that we try to consider the different aspects in which we are used to seeing Divinity. I will first try to give an account of his relation to us as the founder of the Moral Law.

It is not necessary to describe this law otherwise than to say that it is a sovereign necessity which commands every mind to adhere to one mode of conduct and reject another, attaching itself to one perfect pleasure, while following the other with undefined apprehension.

Its divine origin is fully manifested in its superiority over all other principles of our nature. It seems to be more essential to our constitution than any other feeling. It resides so deeply in human nature that we feel it is implicit in consciousness. Other faculties fail, —— memory sleeps; Reasoning is impaired or destroyed; The imagination disappears - but the moral sense still remains. In our dreams, he wakes up and judges amidst the Chaos of the rest. The depth of its foundations in the heart, and the subtlety of its nature in avoiding investigation of its causes and character, point it eminently above other principles. If we compare it, for example, with the phenomenon of taste, which also seems to be universal, we will easily see a significant difference, moving away from their fleeting similarity. The judgment that a circle is more beautiful than a square, or that a rose is more beautiful than a pit, is not based on anything that exists in the mind independent of the senses, but is evidently derived from the humble sources of the material world. . It is nothing more than the power to decide about the pleasures of the senses. If this is not the limit of the realm of taste, if it ever rises to the judgment of matters apparently involving moral beauty, it is only there that it begins to merge with moral feeling and becomes ennobled by their connection. But that sovereign feeling of which we speak leaves the material world and its subordinate knowledge to subordinate faculties, and places before their divine judgment the motives of action, the secrets of character, and the interests of the universe. There is no stain of mortality in the purity and unity of his intelligence; it is perfectly spiritual. At times he seems to approve of Plato's dream that the individual soul is but an emanation from the Abyss of the Godhead and that it will return whence it came. Thus he seems to foretell, in the SUPREME AUTHORITY, that destiny which will be announced, when Time ceases. It seems to be the only human thought that is allowed to participate in the designs of the eternal world, and it already gives notice to man of the event and the punishment to which he is condemned...


We have a remarkable proof of the character, from eternity, of that Being, in the divine decision to create o Photo ofIn all the insignificance and imperfection of our nature, in the guilt for which we are responsible, and in the calamity that guilt has heaped - man triumphs in remembering that he carries with him the spark which all beings adore [and] recognize to be the emblem of God , — which can be broken, but which cannot be extinguished. And we note with joy the confirmations of this belief in the earlier traits of human character. And the small joy of a child who plants a seed and sees himself as a tool in creating a flower, strongly reminds us of that charity that built heaven and earth and saw that it was good.


I was lying among the bushes

Which sea platform of the river gorgoleja;

There are no people on those shores,

But swans sail in their pride

And it floats gracefully in a peaceful bay.

Goldfish swam fast,

And some jumped up to see the sky,

Nor did he see the bird that descended from above

Till he broke the white crest of the wave

And carried the fluttering fish to the nest.

An April cloud hung over the creek

And throw your big drops down,

Oped the hood of the brown lily

And shed her smoky perfume all around,

And the golden insects flew to that supreme flower.



... The great objective of drama is to gain feelings by awakening... sympathy. It represents the accumulation of human knots with lavish pomp to evoke the pity and indignation of a sensitive audience. Its triumph is complete when the passions of the crowd, which naturally move in harmony, finally help each other by some general expression, and agree to the weakness of feeling, which would be ridiculous in an individual. Expel, therefore, from the Theater the buyers and sellers of corruption that made it a den of vices and make it the oracle of those opinions and feelings that multiply and strengthen the bonds of society.

The more we think about the subject, the more profoundly we will become convinced of how viable it is to produce an actively useful Theater. It is a mistake to assume that malicious gratification alone can arouse enough enthusiasm to rally people onstage. On the contrary, what an insatiable thirst, however harsh it may be, exists in every breast!...

It is natural that we long to feel those exciting feelings of the most agreeable character which passionate and powerful declamation never fails to set in motion. They are similar to the emotions it producesoin meaning or thought. And for these he invented problems of exalted people, amidst the passage of wonderful events, asto cleanthe play freely admits, seems to offer every desirable convenience... Moreover, we have direct testimony to the certainty of success, in the case of the Greek tragedy, which, without impurity, was universally popular in Athens...



[As for] that gray head who regards Reason as opposed to Scripture, and who frequently and loudly condemns Reason as adversarial and seductive, as unbelieving and profane... Instead of placing idiots in her universe, capable only of sensual pleasure, capable only of instinctive obedience, and demanding at every moment a new instruction from heaven to keep them from crawling on the earth or being destroyed by beasts, God peopled him with images of himself, and kindled in them the light of his own understanding - a part of that ray which illumines, as it arose, Creation. He communicated to them the intelligence by which they were able to see their way in a universe where other beings were blind; to seeemand your relationship with him; read and understand all communications you take pleasure in in the past or in the future; it is the intelligence that distinguishes them from their other creations. There are about a thousand different properties among them; there are hills and waters, trees and flowers, the living forms of nature and the stars of the firmament; — but they are quiet and brutal — there is no eye or voice in them to discover and announce the vast glory that surrounds them; they lack that living spirit which opens man's eyes, and without which the Universe does not seem to exist, and the glory of the Godhead is darkness. It is an intelligence that rises above these charms of the material world and can despise them in comparison with the objects it is capable of enjoying. In short, it is intelligence that reveals to man another condition of existence and a closer approximation to the Supreme Being. this intelligence is

Yet there are some who tell you, as if it involved no inconsistency and certainly no sin, to avoid defiling God's revelations by subjecting them to the judgment of human reason - who implicitly seek to walk by a law they do not respect. and they will not understand, because they refuse to apply to their explanation that light with which their creator furnished them. This is not only a deliberate perversion and misuse of a priceless gift, but it is a most ungrateful neglect of divine mercy and a neglect that demands enormous responsibility...


In proposing schemes for reform in so important a subject as Drama, care must be taken to avoid falling into systems too visionary for general understanding. The scholar in his closet must take care that his poetic imaginations about the beauty of tragedy do not lead him into fields beyond the path of common thought and render his speculations useless. However, it strikes me as a bold and beautiful embodiment in Milton.designedis not an inadequate description of the actual drama:-

Sometimes a beautiful tragedy

With the scepter the blanket passes,

Depiction of Thebes and the lineage of Pelops

And the story of Troy is divine.

For we wish that tragedy would make use of that weakness, or perhaps virtue, in our nature which bears such an idolatrous love for the emblems of royalty, and express its moral lessons in the great and pathetic fables which antiquity offers. Owing to the similarity of human character in all periods, there are as many instructions in the history of Troy as there are in the Annals of the French Revolution...

There is decor that I would recommend, although it is out of place here. I refer to the introduction of prophecies. The authorCara WayseuBride of Lammermoorhe knew the value of charm and he made good use of fascination. It's the most beautiful use of supernatural machines in fiction.


Thursday night.

When I was a boy, said the bearded islander, we had some sort of enormous musical machine in the Pacific Islands which must seem as fantastic to you as it is fatal to us. On the banks of the rivers, sipharas abounded, consisting of huge trunks pierced by an infinity of natural pipes without any external vegetation. When its roots joined the waters of the river, the water was immediately sucked up by some pipes and released again by others, and when it resounded properly, the operation [was] accompanied by the most beautiful musical sounds in the world. My countrymen built their churches for the Great Zoe on the water's edge, and surrounded a suitable number of these trees, hoping to please the god's ear with this sweet harmony. However, seeing by experience that the more water the pipes drew, the richer and more varied were the sounds of the organ, they built a very large temple with high walls of clay and stone so that the echoes were very complete, and closed a hundred ciphers. When construction was completed, six thousand people gathered to hear the long-awaited music. After they had waited a long time and the waters of the river began to rise, the Instrument suddenly began to emit the finest notes imaginable. Through some of the larger pipes the water ran with the voice of thunder, and through others with the sweetness of one of his lutes. In a short time the effect of the music was such that it seemed to drive all listeners mad. They laughed and cried alternately and began to dance, and their delight was such that they did not realize the disaster that had befallen their Organ. Due to the unusual flooding of the river and some inexplicable irregularity in the channels, the pipes began to discharge their contents inside the chapel. In a short time, the evil became very evident, as water rose in spouts from the head of the larger channels and fell on the crowds within. Meanwhile, the music grew louder and louder, each note more enthralling than the last. The unpleasantness of the waterfall drenching them was completely forgotten, until finally the entire line of pipes each discharged a quantity of water over the enchanted community. The faster the water flowed, the sweeter the music became, and the ground was covered with torrents, people began to float over it with unbearable excitement. At length the whole crowd swam in this deluge, holding their heads with their moons open and their ears as if to swallow the melody, in which they swallowed much water. Many hundreds were instantly drowned, and the immense pipes, as they discharged into the river, increased their harmony to such perfection that the ear could no longer bear it, and those who escaped drowning died with the exquisite music. Since then, sifar trees have not been used in the Pacific Islands.


... It has been nineteen years since I left the Land of No, and I can safely say that in the countries in which I have spent my time since that period, it is always true that there is more crime, misery and disturbance in each one of them, at the same time. over the course of a year, takes place in the peaceful Land of Ne over the last few centuries. Apart from the existence of a single institution established from time immemorial, there is no doubt that a great wave of emigration would quickly flow into that country. That institution is the strict Foreigners' Law, which stipulates that no man who leaves the country's borders may ever set foot in it again. But, as far as I know, many who have left it many times afterwards have looked back on their pleasant abodes and wished in vain to return...

Saturday night,

My adventurous and superficial pen has not hesitated to go so far over these ancient but high foundations of our faith; and therefore, without adding a straw to the weight of evidence, or making the slightest discovery, it still served to elevate my own notions a little, bringing me into the appearance of a sage's work. After the original apostles, I realize that Christianity owes to those who laid the foundations on which it rests; to Clarke, Butler and Paley; Sherlock and the incomparable Newton. And when my wandering imagination is pleased to let me go and drink from these crystalline fountains; or when my better judgment finally overcomes demonic imagination and takes me there on my own, - I will be proud and happy for the privilege. For the present I must content myself with growing as wise as I can, by the same loose speculations on divine matters...


I have come to the end of the pages I have devoted to America's Genius, and notice that I have devoted nothing in my book to any special subject concerning my country.

But is not every effort your children make to advance the intellectual interests of the world, and every new thought that is extracted from the mines of religion and morality, a step forward in the path of your greatness? Peace be with their progressive greatness - and prosperity crowns their giant minds. Today, victory is won for the one whose name is perhaps the most written in the notebook of the future.





To the glory that is gone, to the majesty that has ceased, to the reason that is extinguished - I pay no respect - no, not a grain of gold. For why try to contradict the voice of Nature and God, which tells them, "It is finished," wasting our imaginations on the deaf ears of the dead? Go rather to the mighty multitude, whose thundering steps now shake the earth; whose faces are washed with the blood of life; whose eye the living soul illumines. Is there no one in this countless community who claims the respect of Minerva's children?

I chose one from the crowd. The muses did not hang a crown on his forehead. His name was never mentioned in the salons of fashion or the palaces of state; but I saw the Prophecy kneel before him, and I hastened to pay the page's tribute.


In my dreams I went to distant regions and different periods, and my imagination represented before me many extraordinary societies and many ancient and unusual institutions. I was sitting by the Golden Sands River when a thirsty leopard came to drink. It was just dawn and the golden splendor of the day quickly chased away the shadows from the eastern sky. As I contemplated the brilliant spectacle of the African morning, I thought of those sages of this legendary land who taught the world's infancy. Meanwhile, the sun rose and shed all its light on the vast and extraordinary landscape. Around the river the land was green, its bed reflecting the sun's rays in pebbles and gold. All around was a vast plain with a soil of yellow sand, everywhere glistening with dew and dotted with patches of forest, which extended into the plain of the mountains which surrounded this broad amphitheater. The distant roar of the lions was no longer heard, and I saw the leopard bathe its dappled limbs and swim toward the forest that surrounded the water. But his way was stopped; an arrow from a tree pierced his head and he floated lifeless to the shore. I then looked to see where the murderer must have come from, and saw not far off a small village of huts built of reeds. Soon I saw a group of families leaving their homes; and these naked men, women and children sang a hymn to the sun and happily went down to the river with nets in their hands to fish. And a crimson bird with a yellow crest flew over their heads as they went, sat on a rock in the middle of the river, and sang pleasantly to the wildlings as it brushed its feathers in the stream. The boys dove into the river and swam towards the rock. But suddenly I saw many people dressed in foreign clothes running out of the forest where the leopard had been killed; and these surrounded the fishermen, tied them with ropes, and hurried them to their boats which lay hidden behind the trees. So they sailed along the current, talking loudly and laughing as they went; but those who were bound gnashed their teeth and howled so pitifully that I thought it would be a real mercy if the river swallowed them up.

In the dream, I let my boat go in order to follow the boats and rescue the captives. They left in ships for other lands, and I never managed to catch up with them, though I got close enough to hear the piercing scream of the chained victims, which was louder than the noise of the Ocean. In the nations where they were brought, they were sold for a high price and forced to work all day and beaten with whips until they fell dead in the fields and found rest in the grave.

Can you consider the vision, and show why Providence allows the land of its richest produce to be so polluted? Human bodies are inhabited by immortal souls - and is this tortured life of bondage and tears adequate training for heaven's bright ages and the angel trade? Is man the image of his Maker - and will this chained and broken structure, this damaged and brutalized soul, become perfect as He is perfect? This slave ate the bread of bondage and drank the water of bitterness, and cursed the sunlight that shone on his bed of straw, and worked hard and suffered much, until the idea of ​​God never kindled in his mind. mind from the moment of your birth until the moment of your death. and yet you say that the gracious Lord created man in his goodness to live and enjoy, to delight in his works, and to worship him forever. Admit that in that Providence there are secrets which the human eye cannot penetrate, which obscure the appearance of faith and teach us the weakness of our philosophy.


At least we can look beyond the simple fact and perhaps help our faith with freer speculations. I don't think anyone considers the maxim "that all men are created equal" to be more than a convenient hypothesis or an extravagant statement anymore. Because the opposite is true - that all people are born unequal in personal powers and in those essential circumstances, time, parentage, country, wealth. The slightest knowledge of man's natural history adds another important detail to this; That is, to what class of people does he belong - a European, a Moor, a Tatar, an African? Because nature has clearly assigned different degrees of intellect to these different races, and the barriers between them are impassable.

This inequality is an indication of Providence's plan that some are to lead and others are to serve. For when the effect always proceeds from the cause which Heaven has established, we certainly say with certainty that Providence designed that result.

In all society, therefore, there is not only a direct and recognized relationship between king and subject, master and servant, but also a completely universal secret dependence, from one man to another, which affects habits, opinions and behavior. This prevails to an infinite extent, and however humiliating the analogy may be, it is true that the same satisfaction and confidence which the dog and horse feel in relying on man's superior intelligence, are felt by the lower parts of our own intelligence. species. with reference to superior.

Now, with these concessions, the question comes to this: can this known and recognized usurpation of power by one part of mankind over another be brought to the point of complete possession, and that without the will of the slave?

It can hardly be said that all the difference into wantactionsnaturalthe slavery that we speak of the forced slavery of "slavery". For it is not voluntary on my part that I was born a subject; On the contrary, if my opinion had been consulted, ten to one I would have been the Great Mughal. The circumstances in which each man finds himself are due to chance, not to himself. And those people who happen to be born in the lowest caste of India suffer perhaps much more than the kidnapped Africans, with no other difference in their fate than this, that God has made one miserable and man the other. Except that there is a dignity in enduring the decrees of the Supreme Power - not common to the other class - the one side is as little envied as the other.

When all this is granted, the question may still remain quite independent and untouched - beyond the consideration of slavery as acceptable or contrary to the analogies of nature - whether any individual has a right to deprive another individual of his liberty without his consent; or can you continue to deny the freedom that another has taken from you?

On the first question, - can one man take another's freedom by force, - it seems that the weakness and incapacity of Africans has nothing to do; although it may affect the other. Yet it may be asserted that all the beasts of the field are clearly subject to man's dominion, and, with the sole limitation of the laws of mankind, are entirely at his will. And why do they exist, and how can we get this declaration from heaven? Apparently from the point of view of the perfect adaptation of these animals to man's needs and the advantages that each of them has in going from the forest to the barn. If they were right, their power would be so superior to ours that, except for our inability to use it, it would not be in harmony with nature. So that these three circumstances are the ground of our lordship; your lack of reason; its adaptation to our desires; and its own advantage (when it settles). But these three circumstances may well apply to Black's condition, and it can be difficult to say exactly where the difference lies. It's insideReason?If we speak generally of the two classes, Man and Beast, we say that they are separated by the difference of Reason and the want of it; and the line of this distinction is very wide. But if we abandon this generalization, and compare the classes of the one with those of the other, we shall see that our boundary line gets narrower and narrower, and the individuals of one species approach the individuals of the other, until finally the boundaries are lost in the mingling. of classes....


If we pursue the hateful subject to the fullest, we shall find that in all these three circumstances which are the foundations of our dominion over animals, they may be said to apply to the African species; even in the latter, namely, the advantage they derive from our care; for slave-owners vehemently assert that their slaves are happier than freedmen of their class; and slaves often refuse the offer of their freedom. Nor is this due solely to the barbarism that has deprived them of the power to achieve competence on their own. For it is true that many slaves under the warm roof of a philanthropic master, with easy labor and regular maintenance, enjoy more happiness than their naked brethren, parched with thirst on the burning sands, or threatened in the desert of their native land. . .

That's all there is to offeryou to benefitslavery; next time we'll try to take down the hydra.

To establish, by any false argument, the perfect suitability of the worst institution in the worldprima faceattack on reason and common sense. No amount of ingenious sophistry can reconcile an uncorrupted mind with forgiveness.slavery;nothing but the enormous familiarity and prejudice of the privateinterest.Under the influence of better arguments than can be offered in favor of slavery, we must keep our peace by the conviction that we are never obliged to renounce our opinion, and that we must only discover the hidden fallacy which the disputant admits. exist. It's an old dispute, which is not and never will be completely at peace, whether the human mind is a free player or not. And he who claims either side must be scandalized by the mere mention of the theory that a man can enforce slavery on his brother. For if he himself is free, and it offends the attributes of God to have him otherwise, it is plainly a bold move of impiety to rob his fellow man of the same liberty. And if he is not free, then this inhuman barbarism appears to have its origin in the author of all needs.

A creature compelled by its hopes of salvation to imitate the benevolence of better beings, and to do all the good in its power, binds its fellow men with ill grace. A creature that little claims the obstinate possession of God's good pleasure, strangely improves its moment by abusing God's best works, its peers.


Saturday night,November16.

The child who refuses to stain his little lips with lies, and the archangel who indignantly refuses to rebel in the heavenly hosts against the Most High, act alike in obedience to the law which pervades all intelligent beings. That law is the moral sense; a rule that is equal and equal to Mind. He derives his existence from the eternal character of the Godhead, of which we have spoken above; and it seems by itself to imply and therefore to prove its Existence... Whence comes that strong universal feeling which approves or abhors actions? Apparently, not from those who don't play and whose connection with it is absurd - but fromMindywhose essence it is. That Mind is God.

This feeling which we carry within us is so subtle and unearthly in its nature, so utterly unlike all sense and matter, and therefore so difficult to examine, and, moreover, so decisive and unchangeable in its dictates—that it is clearly a part of the other world of this one, and looks forward to it at the end. It can be further remarked about him that his dictates are never blind, never capricious, but, however different they may appear, are always revealed by a thorough and deep examination to point to an impeccable and unattainable perfection. They seem to refer to a sublime course of life and action which nowhere exists, or in which we are not instructed; and to be an indication of the Creator's character lent to mankind as a justification or illustration of the command, "Be ye perfect even as He is perfect."

This feeling is different from the feeling of the heart and the faculty of the mind. The affections are indiscriminate and capricious. Not the moral sense. The powers of intellect are sometimes alert and sometimes dull, alive with interest in one object and dead with the charm of another. There's no ebb and flow, no change, no contradictionIt is.His lively approbation never loses its pleasure; his revulsion never loses its fervor. His prophetic answers could be proclaimed to the world, for they are always the same. Motives and characters are subject to it; and the golden rules which are the basis of his judgments we feel and recognize, but do not understand....


"Even compromised justice recommends the ingredients of our poisoned cup to our own lips."

A brave criminal who violates the law of justice fights with those who know. He has offended an essential quality of Divinity, which will tirelessly fight against him until he is avenged. His reckless hand has disrupted part of the universe's moral machinery, and he is in danger of being broken for the harm he has caused.

... How shall man reconcile his freedom with that eternal and necessary chain of cause and effect which unites him with Nature by an irreversible decree? How will he reconcile his freedom with that prophetic omniscience which saw its end long before the child entered the world? Perhaps he is a slave - and men have loaded his limbs with iron and his soul with grief; the name of virtue and the smile of goodness never bent to ease their hard and bitter bondage; but before his little day of listlessness and anguish was over, he cursed God and died; — did he descend into hell? Or how to reconcile the creation and destiny of this being with that Infinite and benevolent Justice that would not abuse its Omnipotence and would not create the mind to be miserable?

Do not tell this man about those feelings and thoughts that make him happyyourexistence and warm your heart to the world; because that will only be a mockery of your misery. Don't tell him about the dignity of human nature, about hersbenevolenceand - in the word will shake the chains. He bitterly mocks his images of the golden gates of heaven, because they are closed to him.

He is a brave man who is committed to answering these perplexing questions in no uncertain terms. But theology would be a vain science, unworthy of our attention, if it left them in full force, without warning and solution.

If an ignorant man were taken out of his closet into the prisons and penitentiaries of a vast kingdom, and shown to multitudes of men arrested, whipped, and forced to work, and told that it was an act of government, if he knew nothing else about the state, and perhaps foolishly imagined that, if its boundaries did not extend beyond the walls within which it stood, it would be a very clear conclusion that that government was a savage and outrageous tyranny; though perhaps at that very moment the government was the most perfect and beneficent in the world. Our hasty conclusions about the dark side of human affairs are analogous to these, and like these need to be corrected by broader views of the system that we don't understand.

The questions we have listed are secondary to the subject, but they are so important that we are going to deviate from the main topic to try to answer them. Efforts to clarify the darkness that hangs over parts of the system are always commendable. God in heaven is responsible for his actions, according to the principles he has placed in us to judge them. Our nature is incapable of discussing some of them.

One of the best satires on women is the popular opinion of the third century, that those who married were most subject to the influence of evil demons... Men's minds visit heaven as they visit earth, and therefore the world Turkish Sky is a Harem; Scandinavians, hunting grounds; Arabian, a place of wheat cakes and bubbling springs. We have malleable understandings, and so it happens that a new religion always suits the state in which it was born, be it despotism or democracy, as Montesquieu observed.

Four daughters make up the family of time,

But Rosy Summer is a sweet child.


Saturday night,November23.

Hours of socializing, hopes met, festive dishes have just given way to the quieter pleasures of cupboard and pencil. This tender body is wrapped, Blood leaps in life's vessels, Health and Hope write their results in the fleeting moment, - and those strokes of Benevolence a few pages farther. In the last of these appears his favorite doctrine of compensation. things make the mortal, corporeal and mental being happy. There are a hundred million people in the world right now whose story today can match mine, not counting the countless others whose day was happier. There is also here an innumerable multitude of lower animals whose smallest cup is full of pleasure. The sunny lakes reflect the midday rays from the shining tribes that cover their bottoms, quick as thought in their floating movements, leaping with the spring and joy of life. The boundless ocean in its roaring waves sustains its great population - the beautiful dolphin, the huge whale and the vast sea monsters of thousands of families, and thousands of rude skunks rush through their mighty domain in the fullness of sensual pleasure. Countless wings flutter the air, insects and birds sing loudly in the green forests; the beasts of the field fill all the land that is not used by man, and moles and worms frolic under the turf. All this vast mass of animate matter moves and warms itself under the wide globe of the sun, - it drinks the sweetness of the air, it feeds on the fruits of nature, - it is satisfied with life and does not wish to lose it. All this pleasure springs from one source. That source is the Benevolence of God.

This is the first superficial view of the world economy and necessarily leaves out a thousand circumstances. Let's take a closer look and start with the human mind. I find in myself a colorful series of feelings that have nothing to do with my body of clay and I call them mine. Every day of my life this mind draws thousands of strange conclusions from the various things it observes. With an arbitrary variety that tires of sameness, Throws all his thoughts into innumerable lights, And alters the fantastic scene by altering His own operations upon it; connecting and separating, comparing and judging, memorizing and making everything up. Each of these small internal changes produces satisfaction, satisfaction of power or vision. But beyond the simple fact that the mind works there is the richest variety of thought, and I greatly underestimate the gift I possess if I confine its capacity to a small circle of everyday sensations. It is a gateway to another world of indescribable magnitude - to unknown levels of things that are likerealbecause they are great. As soon as he advances a little in life, he opens his eyes to thoughts that overwhelm all his strength and delight him with their grandeur and novelty. They suggest related conceptions, which give rise to others, and thus lead the mind on a path which it perceives to be infinite and of infinite joy. Added to this favored intellect is the intuition that it can never end and that, by his choice, he can go forward and receive the gift of immortal happiness. These are causes and states of pleasure which no reason can deny. But this is the true story of every individual in the mighty nations that are breathing today. They also point to the source - which is God's Benevolence.

But the groaning of the dying, the cry of the sick in torment, the groaning of the bereaved, responds to this gratitude in human nature, and creates discord in our hymn of praise. If God is good, why are some of his creatures unhappy?...

Those who consider the foundations of human happiness find it to be a contrasting and comparative thing... Manifold and elevated sources of pleasure are often in our possession without our enjoying them, because we have never lacked; God disturbs or removes them for a time; and he is a fool who does not see wisdom in this way of valuing and sharpening the dull blade of appetite. So Health and Peace are insipid goods, until you can compare them with the torments of Pain and the visitation of War. And after this comparison is made, the man rebels by holding them.

Furthermore, it should be borne in mind that we wisely assume the Creator's justice by placing man in a state of probation. We do not seek with vain ambition to question the vague and uninvestigated grounds of this ordinance, for it is clear that we are incompetent to debate. With this assumption, there is no longer any doubt about divine benevolence arising from the existence of evil. Evil is the rough and stony foundation of human Virtue; the weaning of man from the seductive dangers of vicious, fleeting, and destructive pleasures to the stronghold and safety of Paradise, where they are eternal and perfect.

About Professor N. Shakespeare wrote a good and a bad character a long time ago:

Oh, it's great to have the strength of a giant, but it's tyrannical to use it like a giant.


Rich in the playful joys of solitude

Peaceful muse begins her jubilee

When the black chariot of night, studded with golden stars,

He chased away the majesty of the Sun.

Pleased with the colorful wardrobe furniture,

And broken shadows, where elves and gnomes are

Fight the rats for noise or victory,

The Muse boldly roams on her wandering wing,

He despises the new times and days of the dwarves,

And Apollo never knew this cold land;

Leaves the passing hour with proud feathers,

And follows Fancy through a thousand worlds.

It's a strange sight to behold

'Panorama of countless tones

That the wild road commands your eyes.

But icy Reason looks sternly at the play, -

And its merry peaks and bright towers

And all the bright shapes disappear in your frown.

Yet I, who never bowed my obedient neck

They will yet rebel against Reason's iron yoke

And trouble the tyrant in his ancient halls.

Pleasantly will I behold the changing scenes And tell their wonders aloud on the lyre. of him as a man of keen intellect and powerful personality and, I suppose, the foremost theologian among liberal Christians.” Sixteen years later, Emerson, after delivering his lecture at the Divinity School, felt the brunt of this giant's attack.

November29 of 1822.

The ardor of my high school friendship for . To be so pleasantly moved by the qualities of an individual that I had not known personally, and for so long, was certainly a strange event in the history of a being so cold and worthy of reflection. Early in our singular acquaintance, I noticed this circumstance in my Wide World, with an expression of curiosity as to the effect time would have on these feelings. To this day, our gaze when we meet isn't that of indifferent people, and if he wasn't so completely buried in his martial cares, I might still have waited for the hours gone by. Probably the fading of my solitary enthusiasm was owing to the discouraging reports I had gathered of his efforts and character, so utterly inconsistent with the marks in his countenance. But it was far better for our relationship to have come and gone, as it will now, than for it to have been formed and then broken by the belated discovery of insurmountable obstacles to friendship. From the beginning, I preferred to preserve expressions that contained so much feeling rather than the more familiar relationship that I feared would end in indifference.


Saturday night,November30.

Heraclitus was a fool, who always wept over the misery of human life. Or was he blind and deaf to beauty and melody? Was the sky black in its time and snakes coiled in its path instead of flowers? His mind was reversed in his organization; - was he losing hope and tormenting memory? Your impaired eye could make out awildThe Power residing in this Radiant Universe preventsbomchances of good luck and seeding promotionsadnessforglory>turning grace and peace into desolation, and heaven into hell? So let him cry. True philosophy takes a clearer view, and, amidst the vast disproportions of the human condition, perceives a great equalization of fortune; an intimate mixture of pleasure with all degrees, even the lowest of all. Pleasant and cheerful are the bonds of our sympathy and affection - this is proved by the very tear that marks your parting; and even the pain of separation and loss is eased by surrender itself....

Happiness is at our doorstep. Misery is further away. Till I know, from bitter personal experience, that the world is the accursed seat of all misfortunes, and so long as I consider it a garden of pleasures, I must adore the Benevolent Author of my life... misery he can settle his debt to the sky. You must join the choral hymn with which the Universe echoes in the ear of Faith, and I think of Philosophy too...

The mind can perceive a harmonious whole, united and surpassed by a sublime Necessity, which embraces in its powerful circle the freedom of individuals and, without taking anything away, directs everything to its convenient ends. He discerns purpose even pain, and sees how the lesson and perfection of myriads are accomplished through the spectacle of guilt and its punishment. This great primal need can make a universe without evil impossible and perhaps establish happiness as,against suffering. This question is at the source of things, and we are left with only one clue that can reveal the just goodness of the Deity.

(This connection may be deeper and more intimate than we tend to imagine, and the circumstances we have just observed seem to show that it is. This connection, which existshereyou will survive youstateNext. And some plan will be developed that it will be good atMalwill be clear on a general level, which cannot be explained on a special level.)...


Every man who enumerates the catalog of his acquaintances intimately knows, however he may hesitate to admit his inferiority, a certain number of minds which surpass and dominate his own, in whose society, despite the laws of good breeding and the fences of affectation, his spirit itself bows like the burdens of brothers to the burden of Joseph. He remembers the prophet's faithful account of Antony's guardian genius, who was tall and unapproachable among other men, yet bowed before Caesar. He also remembers his other companions, over whom his own spirit exercises the same power. And let none complain of the inequality of such an ordination, or call fate a partaker in the distribution of its blessings.


All is in America's favor, who believes these proverbial prophecies of the Emperor's advance westward. While there may be no more barbarians to invade Europe and extinguish forever the memory of its greatness, its rotten states, like Spain, may perish due to the infection and entrenchment of government errors. Far from contagion during the long progress of its decline, America has plenty of time to lay a solid and deep foundation for New World greatness. And along the shores of the southern continent, where the dross of European society's corruption has unfortunately been transplanted, the ferocity of the present struggle for independence will undoubtedly serve as a powerful remedy for the disease, rousing the slumbering spirits of these sluggish zones to an awareness of his "power and destiny." Here, therefore, new rhymes grow, and the Genius of man ponders over the wide borders of newborn empires, where he has not yet drunk the heady breaths of honor and reputation; here the bloody games of human ambition, fanaticism and revenge will be played again, and the incredible drama of passion will be repeated. Cleopatra will seduce others, Alexander will fight, and Caesar will die. The pillars of social strength, which we are engaged in establishing so firmly that they will stand for ages to come as monuments to the wisdom thereof, must be shaken in their foundations with convulsions proportionate to their firm strength. The time has come, the time has come; the players in this vast, vast scene have already begun to assemble. The gates of life in our mountainous country are open, and a great swarm of people are crowding in, bearing in their hands the burden of Sorrow and Sin, of glory and knowledge, which will interfere with their future destinies. In the events and interests of these empires, the old stories of the history and destiny of the departed nations will be completely forgotten, and the name of Rome or Great Britain will rarely be heard.

If so, when the fame of Plato of Greece, Cicero of Rome, and Shakespeare of England dies, who are they who will write their names where all ages will read them, and their words will be the oracle of millions? Let those who wish to obtain a portion of immortality from the urn of destiny take a good look at America's future prospects.

Friday Ev. 21, 1822. Authors or books quoted or referred to in the Diaries of 1822. Homero; Simonides; Heraclitus; Sophocles,Eletra;Thucydides; Demosthenes; Bible; Zoroaster; Cicero; Lucretius; Horace; Plutarch; Tacit,Germany;Seneca; Marco Aurelio; medieval mysteries; Chaucer; Shakespeare; Ben Johnson; Bacon; milton,Raj lost;Boileau; Locke,Already o human Understanding;Guilherme Sherlock,Sermon already Faith;Newton; Burnet,Memorial;Fontenelle; Papai; Richardson,Romani;Montesquieu; Batler,Analogy;Voltaire; David Harley,Comments already Man;Dr Johnson,Vanity of human Verdes;Samuel Clarke; Priestly; doublet,the shortest path eu Cushion of o romano Empire;Paley; Logan,Tarrow; He speaksof Pitt, Burke, Fox; Dugald Stewart,Philosophy of o One;Claudio BuchananChristian To look for you India;Abernethy; Buckminster,Sermons;Arabian Nights; Scott,O Minstrelsia;Byron,child Harold;fearingtrips you o Unido Countries;Sismondi,Italian Republic;Leigh Hunt,



"Do not undo the Genie of the Place blessing."

Saturday night,December21 of 1822.

To the genius of the future, I dedicate my page.

"Begin. Who justly prolongs life's hour,

The peasant waits until the river flows; but he

It slides and slides in every undulating age.”


... If a misanthrope takes refuge inanalogy—— he won't make it. For though we deplore the imperfection of sublunary things, yet all things in the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms have something which, though not attained in a hundred It isreached in thousand; is achieved much more often than not. Man has failed in many attempts;... But now he is preparing for another experiment that begins with infinite advantages. I need not name the daily blessings which are scattered over the present generation, and which set them above seniority. I only observe that they have Christianity and civilization more deeply implanted in their minds (due to the extraordinary help they receive from invention and discovery) than ever before. The nature of these advantages is that they multiply. Providence ordains that every improvement should infinitely affect the face of society. Centuries ago, the progress of human affairs seemed to indicate a better time; and finally, when all events were prepared, God opened a new theater for this final judgment. This country rises every day to greater and greater comparative importance and attracts the eyes of the rest of the world to the development of its embryonic greatness.



If (as Voltaire says) all that is said of Alfred the Great be true, I know of no man who ever lived more worthy of the gratitude of posterity. I hope the booking means nothing. There is not a single implausible claim about his abilities, his character or his actions. Besides, it was not the time, nor the men of the Saxon monks, to invent and embellish another cyropedia. Sharon Turner, a brilliant aspiring writer who is also a crazy one, did well at Alfred's. Her praise is not based on monastic hymns or obscure traditions, but on

December26 of 1822.

Tonight I heard and elsewhere I will record Prof. Everett on the mysteries of Eleusis, Dodona and the Hagia Sophia...

Although the lecture contained nothing original, nor very significant points of view, it was still an exhibition of antiquities that carried that "good Roman hand" everywhere and was presented in an inimitable style.our Cicero.and philosophy are opposite poles of judgment, and the skepticism of Hume and Gibbon differs as much as the superstition of the Catholics does of the freedom of the Protestants." (Professor E.)

Saturday night,January11.

"The lord of my bosom sits comfortably on his throne"; I cannot clearly discern the cause; tomorrow he will sit there hard; and after a few more days it will cease to exist. The ties he has cultivated with earthly society will be severed, and the memory of his personal influence will be erased from the hearts of men. It is possible that he continued his thought elsewhere; that while the place he came from forgets him, he will fan the fire of pure ambition in some freer haven than this world has. Is it possible that the infinity of the other world occupies your imagination so much that it deprives you of this heavy feelingyourselfit overwhelms him - until he loses his individual existence in his efforts for the Universe.


... The childhood years are gone, and these toys are gone to make way for the bright hopes and enthusiastic resolutions of youth. The sky was not so clear and unfortunately! it is not as changeable as promises. He enjoyed the sight of beauty and the sounds of music, the movements of the limbs, the exchange of friends, and all the joys of the pleasant and beautiful world. But the crimson flush was gone from her cheeks and the merry light from her eyes; his bones hardened into manhood, and his years passed away after the flood. Reason watched them as they left and was bitterly depressed when he realized how insignificant they had become to the eye. Those changes and events that had absorbed the mind with their gigantic magnitude now sank down into porcine dimensions, and their images were so vague in the memory that it was hard to believe that they were but a dream.

After a few more revolutions of the globe in its orbit, manhood, old age, and life itself will pass, and as I advance, what I have left behind will become less and less. As I reach and successively pass through various epochs of existence, my respect for the things of the previous pursuit will degenerate. Everything, everything, will be forgotten as if it never existed. The mind writes daily, in its memories of the past, only an epitaph about time - "Vanity on vanities, all is vanity!" God grant that this is a faithful history of the Universe...


... There is a difference between these disappearing phenomena - a decisive difference which is real and eternal and which will survive nature - I mean the difference between the Right and the Wrong. Your opinions on all other matters and your feelings towards this world, in childhood, youth and age, are constantly changing. Your perception of right and wrong never changes. You can take the world out of your mind and almost abolish the rule of the senses in your imagination; but you can never bury in your chest the feeling of offended justice....

A mind may lose its familiarity with other minds, and may leave, without a sigh, this glorious universe, like a night tent to inhabit; but he cannot deviate from his moral principle, by which he relates to the extraordinary intelligences that will accompany his eternal journey to the throne of God. If there is something real under heaven or in heaven, the perception of good and evil refers to that reality. Dogmatists and philosophers can easily convince me that my mind is but the abode of many fleeting shadows, believing whose existence they mock me. I am not going to fight hard against this ancient skepticism because it has often seemed troublesome to my mind, and to all minds, whether it has been misled by a trifling opinion-making. But it is in the constitution of the mind that it rests with the firmest confidence.moraland I immediately dismiss the thought of error in this. This is vitally woven into the thinking substance itself, so that it cannot be diminished or destroyed without forever dispersing that indwelling spirit. based on mymoralIn this sense, I base my faith on the immortality of the soul, on the existence and operation of good beings, and on the promise of rewards to be adapted to the vicious or virtuous propensities cultivated here. A grand universe citizenship, in which all souls participate, hasIt isby their common bond and charter, which none should break without incurring the danger of losing their infinite privileges. In the bounded field of this land, nation after nation of men have successively died and carried away to other unseen lands the minds that dwelt here for a certain space; and all individuals of this host agreed in one respect only, namely, in the recognition of this inward judgment of thought and action. They obeyed or disobeyed his law, suffered or rejoiced, as they could; but no one has ever escaped that lofty, unrelenting, universal bondage which the Author of Mind has created over the mind.


January19 of 1823.

Ideas of Deity and religious worship easily find access to the mind and are readily abused. The clown on the dunghill can raise his faculty to these truths, and he is delighted and flattered by this awareness of a new and transcendent power. God is infinitely above all creation, and he who wishes to worship Him feels that his ascending spirit leaves the rest of the Universe at his feet. Enthusiasm is therefore apt to produce in uncultivated minds a hasty and ignorant contempt for the slow modes of education and careful reasoning by which enlightened men arrive at wisdom - for they themselves have acquired this higher conception without the tedious work of intermediate steps. . The poor man immediately becomes a philosopher and boldly utters the dogmas of religious faith from the exuberance of a crude imagination. The tumults of an agitated mind are confused with the inspiration of the apostles, and the force of excited feelings is replaced by an impartial and belated induction, a comparison of scripture and reason, which sanctions the piety of moderate and liberal men.

It is everywhere revealed as the history of religious error; not only in the fanaticism of sects, but in the errors and superstitions of individuals. Every man's heaven is different; and is colored by the character and feeling tone most natural to your mind. And likewise your conceptions of the Divine Being will vary according to the limitation or rectitude of your modes of thinking. A mind noted for the truth and grandeur of its views in physical or metaphysical science will seldom be misled by an inflexible obstinacy in its religious faith. confirmed day after day by the influence of events, until they acquire an immutable power that can survive the period of this life. We think of God, therefore, as we think of man. Our views of human nature can be wrong; such are our visions of the divine.


... The origin of prayer is undoubtedly found in our comparison of finite beings with infinite Being. In order to get bread, we asked our neighbor to distribute it in his shop. But earning more than bread, - earning a friend's health or life, changing the course of events, this is beyond the power of our fellow man. Man, in his time of need, remembered that there was a Power above him, and uttered the exclamation of his anguish and hopes, dictated by the very same emotions which had moved him to address his earthly friend. So far the analogy is without exception, but if carried further it fails. The judge condemned the death of the criminal; the father and friends of the unfortunate man appeared in court to plead for his life, and they pleaded so vehemently and eloquently that the judge agreed to overturn the sentence. The character of the culprit was not repaired, but the free flow of justice was stopped, and injustice was done to society, by the gravity of the denunciation. (In ancient Persian religion it is forbidden to pray for a blessing for oneself individually; the prayer must be extended to the entire Persian nation.) what would be harmful to the whole; and thinking erroneously from human experience, they concluded that there was a certain power in prayer which would extend a certain control even over the Mind of the Godhead. The human judge's piety and indecision triumphed over his knowledge and virtue, and the worshiper flattered himself with the hope that even God might be induced to hesitate by offering himself to hecatomb and by noisy petitions. The idolatry of every nation tends towards this belief, that the hand of omnipotence can be fettered by sacrifice and supplication, which the Hindu mythology tends to the utmost. Prayer and penance will, by their inward virtue, raise the worshiper above the power of gods and men, until he overthrows the Most High from his throne to make room for a pious usurper. Such faith shocks the mind; but a secret bias towards this belief is not uncommon in Christian countries. We tend to think that the prayers of righteous people help God to control or change the course of events, implying that these events were previously misordered or that they are now about to go in the wrong direction; but both hypotheses are inconsistent with our confidence in the supervision of human affairs by Providence...

The opposition between General Providence and Particular Providence is often implied in prayer. Antiquity considered the gods as Special, Destiny as General Providence, and reconciled them by making Destiny absolute in the government of the Universe. Our confusion springs from the union of both in the hands of one God.

... When God has ordained a change of event and aspect of the world, suggesting the benefits of such a change to the mind, he leads man to pray for it, in which case the event coincides with the prayer, and is interpreted as an interposition Special. With this solitary exception, human prayers and the sequence of events have no direct relationship to each other...

Human curiosity is always engaged in seeking ways and means of establishing a connection between mind and the world of matter without the world of mind surviving here or a unifying bridge to unite future ages with our own memory and actions. This laudable curiosity must not fail to form a bond that intends to unite her, not with men, matter or animals, but with the Invisible Spirit of the Universe. Our original pleasure in relating to other beings leads us to diligently cultivate the friendship of great minds. But there is a Mind to whom all its greatness is vanity and nothing; that he himself created and transmitted all the intellect that exists; and there is a mode of intercourse which is provided whereby we may approach this excellent majesty. That Mind is God; and that Path is Prayer.

"And if by prayer

I could constantly expect to change the will

From the one who can do anything, I wouldn't stop

To tire you out with my diligent screams.

But prayer against his absolute provision

There's no more benefit in breathing against the wind

He breathed suffocating backwards on the one who exhales it."

Raj lost,book XI.


In reading history it is difficult to keep one's eyes fixed on any clear moral view of the species, to which we can easily refer all recorded facts about individuals. When we put down the book and think of man, our common theories regard him as a being in a state of probation, and elevate the whole human race to a sublime equality of condition and destiny. Continue down the page, and you will be at once convinced that, whatever opinions you yourselves may wish to have of them, it never occurred to the majority of mankind in past ages that such equality prevailed, or that they occupied a very high place. on the scale of creation. They themselves showed a melancholy apathy (which is madness in the eyes of a philanthropist) to any supposed nobility of moral or intellectual design; they - that is, the majority - uniformly preferred the body to the mind, allowed the free and excessive indulgence of their sensual appetites, and fettered the noble appetites of the soul in foolish dreams. Instead of eating to live, people lived to eat, drink and be merry; and when ordinary means have failed to produce these great ends, then extraordinary means are lies; murders and robberies were resorted to. No doubt good men are also found in the dramatic variety of history, to remind the mind of a theory from which it has strayed; but the good man in the world is properly represented by the hart in pursuit, as the only sign and sacrifice by which the price of the pleasure of everything else is obtained... It seems a mockery to send us into this roaring desert to gather roses and fruit. The rose blooms there, and the wildflowers hang luxuriantly, but they shed their fragrance in the tiger's den. Imaginative men, warmed by the new wine of their fancy, tried to win embittered Reason to a better love of this dark world; Epicurean feathers have painted it as perfectly adapted to our power of pleasure, replete with every luxury, grace, and good that we wish to acquire, as a palace of beauty and love, a vast marketplace of thought, friendship, society, and distinction, a home of virtue and the end of hope. This is how it is painted and this is how we believe in childhood; but our first mature view of the real state of society rests on a deformity so real, and a moral and intellectual depravity so low, that the fine fabric of the imagination is quickly undermined. We find it difficult or impossible to reconcile the phenomena we observe with any plausible hypothesis that heaven or earth has informed us of their design; but humanity always resembles itself, and we easily recognize the fraud that tries to describe beings better than men. For this most brilliant and alluring faith in regard to man and the earth is derived from false and partial representations of human nature, and makes only momentary converts when it is aided by the joyful exultation which inner and outer nature awakens in youth, or after a few years. hours or moments that happen in the life of man, when the heart swelled and the imagination feasted on periods of joy, magnificence, and public rejoicing. While the times when the opposite belief is imposed on the soul, a thousand times exceed those times...


The history of America since the Revolution is scarce because it has been all this time under better government, better circumstances of religious, moral, political, and commercial prosperity than any other nation before it. The story will continually become less interesting as the world gets better. Professor Playfair of Edinburgh, the greatest or one of the greatest men of his time, died without a biography, for in the life of a great and good man there were no events worth recording. Nelson and Bonaparte, able and unprincipled men, each found four or five biographies.

The true epochs of history must be those successive triumphs which, age after age, human communities achieved, such as the Reformation, the revival of writing, the progressive abolition of the slave trade.

Whoever considers what kind of spirit it is that moves men to write, will observe that the knowledge of the domestic customs of an ancient people is unlikely to have been transmitted to a distant age, by any but the happiest event. Literature arose from the want of written monuments, and in its first expansion into an elegant art, though its mechanical advantages were crude and poor, it was devoted only to those great features of the face of the world which first imposed themselves on the writer's mind. ,—the histories of laws, colonies, wars, and religion. For his illustrations, the writer appealed to nature and, after the precocious discovery of the pleasure that these appeals provided, a new art department was formed, which was called poetry.


... If we had a series of faithful portraits of private life in Egypt, Assyria, Greece and Rome, we could dispense with their national annals without a sigh. The great passions that move the whole nation and the common sense of mankind are the same everywhere and determine the foreign relations and political advice of men. But private life has more delicate varieties, which differ under different circumstances;...

... Our vague and pompous outlines of history only serve to define, within geographical and chronological limits, the faint vestiges we have of ancient nations. But from what powerful moment is an accurate scene of virtue or vice? Give us the naked narrativemoralengaged beings,moralfeelings concerned and the result - and you have answered our whole purpose, the whole final plan which leads the mind to inquire into the past. (It is from the speculative mind - beyond all purposes of government and politics - to the needs of another world, not this one.) For the history of nations is but the history of private virtues and vices gathered together in a clearer field, a sky. wider. To little purpose would you show an inquisitive philosopher a mighty forest, stretching into the distance with its thousand magnificent trees; a single twig, stem, leaf in his hand is of greatest value to him for all purposes of science. Even the Eternal Geometer, in keeping with Leibnitz's imagination, deduces the past and present state of the universe from the examination of a single atom.


Both gods and beasts, according to the proverb, love solitude; thought distinguishes between the solitude of a god and the solitude of a lion.


There was a large crowd at the entrance to the hall; but now an individual was there to take off his blue robe, whose figure immediately attracted the full attention of the two or three guests who happened to be looking at the door. Whispers immediately circulated to inform the company of the presence of a very distinguished and welcome guest. Each one rose at his entrance, and the stranger advanced with an air of dignified majesty towards the center of the room. Franklin greeted him with obvious respect and introduced him to the company as America's first president. There was no gleam in his eyes to attract attention, no quick change in the expression of his countenance; his countenance was composed, and a graceful dignity marked every movement, so that he was more the Jupiter than the Apollo of the group. It was evident, however, that from the moment of his entrance, throughout that long conference, the first place in that society was invariably, and rightly, it seemed, left to him. The last person mentioned was addressed by the most melodious voice that rang generously in the ear and it was that of Cicero. "I consider myself fortunate to be in the company of one with whom Heaven seems to have united me by a certain similarity of fortune and the common glory of saving the state. But fate favored you, O most illustrious man, over my fate, giving him an honorable fall and death amid the lamentations of his country, while I fell from the vengeance of cunning Antony." Gibbon lifted his lips at this speech; and Franklin, sitting with his hands on his knees between Washington and Gibbon, &c. etc.

"Bath!" he said, “thoughts and imaginations! I tell you, man, that I, who earned my bread and glory by informing the world, can write everything in twenty lines.he thinksI ever had, while imagination would fill a thousand beautiful pages."


March6 of 1823.

My brother Edward asks me, do I have the right to use animals? I answer "Yes" and try to give my reasons. A poor native of Lapland found himself in the middle of winter without food, clothing or light, and without even a bow to defend himself against the beast. In this confusion, he found a reindeer, which he killed and took to his hut. He now found himself supplied with oil to light his lamp, a warm covering for his body, and healthful and fortifying food, and strings for his bows, by which he was again able to obtain a similar supply. Does any mind question the innocence of this starving wretch in thus giving life and comfort to a desolate family in that polar corner of the world?peoplepeople in exactly that state, all reduced to the alternative of killing the beast or disappearing. Let the gentle advocate of cruel breeding go there and choose whether to breed beasts.delefood, or being alone



The blending of body and soul is a great wonder of the world, and our knowledge of it facilitates everything that is inexplicable in our condition. Providence, no doubt, carefully watches the proportions of this mixture, and requires a firm balance for both. The gross appetites of the body are sometimes indulged until the mind, through long disuse, loses control of its noble faculties, and one after another, star after star, they are gradually extinguished. Those passages and channels of thought, divine constructions, through which God intended the currents of the intellect to flow in various directions - because they were never used, failed and were choked; From a freeborn citizen of the Universe and heir to glory, the mind became an innkeeper and nurturer of reason. Even the flesh, from being the virtuous master of inferior creatures and the moderate possessor of a thousand pleasures, abused its liberties, until it became the slave of these pleasures, and the imitator and peer of the beast. This is a way of destroying the balance that nature has established in our complex structure....

Ascetic mortification and continual lifelong martyrdom of all sensual appetites, though much more innocent than the opposite extreme, are unwise, because they do not achieve the desired effect. The hermits, who believed that, through this merciless crucifixion of the lusts of the flesh, they would succeed in casting to the wind the rags and rags of a corrupt nature, and elevating and purifying the soul in exact proportion to the sufferings of the body, were disappointed in their hopes; at least if they managed to deceive themselves, they seriously disappointed the world...

But those golden dreams of a speedy improvement in the world, which would have resulted from the prayers and penances that flowed to heaven from those solitudes, disappeared. The loner was like other people. Sufferings from him have tempered his temper or inflamed his pride; the train of thought was interrupted and frozen. His powers and dispositions were diverted from useful ends and were barren and selfish. Instead of the blessed plant which they thought had come into being for the healing of the people, there was a withered, withered branch; it was uprooted; producing neither flowers, nor leaves, nor fruit, it was fit only for fire.


... But there was an older writing, an earlier commandment; Love your neighbor; in the midst of your righteous war against your passions, don't forget that you are a man; that you are an individual of a great and immortal company, who, with you, are working towards goals that require more and more than all your abilities to appreciate and achieve; let thousands of them faint or fall by the wayside, and I will charge your greatest benevolence to give them the necessary help. And when a man thinks it over,... I think he will be led to underestimate the precious qualities of virtue in that man who, like the priest and Levite in the parable, goes to the other side and gets as far as he can out of sudden need or groans. of the dying... The earth which bears him in her bosom, the common mother of us all, has a right to demand at his hands some return for his bounties, and what immunity this gives him to care for his own useless existence without lifting your shoulder to the wheel, or bearing your burden of life; without helping the weary or pouring a single drop of ointment on the wounded heart. I am convinced that God imposes a law... so that the perfection of human nature consists in a constant balance between body and mind. Those lords of the moral world, who preserved an undisputed sway over good minds centuries after they themselves died, did not acquire this rare wealth by any extraordinary way of life, or by any unseemly defiance of the elements or death. Moderate, modest people adapted to the fashion of the times in which they found themselves, without effort or contempt. God, in their minds, removed the old landmarks of thought, or gave them strength to jump over the line, so that they had a more powerful view of man's condition than their fellows. They didn't see it at alldifferentlyof them, butline up Abovecommon border. Thus, it was not part of his pride to disagree with people about the common things they observed on a daily basis. Everyone thought the same about the little things of time and meaning. Deeper thoughts and far-reaching consequences, far beyond the scope of vulgar judgments, and yet closely connected with the progress and destinies of society, were the points on which they fixed their eyes; and from the clearness with which they could discover them, they chiefly valued themselves. It is a wonderful relief in the tortuous history of the world, it is a fountain of crystal gushing in the desert - to the memory of men who exercised that peaceful and exalted dominion over human hearts not cemented with blood or shaken by the curses of enemies. Linked like other men to the complicated machinery of society, and their happiness perhaps inextricably linked to the size of the second home - these minds silently founded a kingdom of their own, which would long survive the ruins of that transient dynasty in which it had grown up. ... They were the people of God - children of a brighter age, walking the earth, holding in their hands the urns of immortality from which emanated the light that reached distant generations that they might follow in their footsteps. Pagan also blessed them,

"There are few whom he loved equally

Jupiter or the fiery force takes you to the stars.


And what mixed feelings can be found in the group of fans behind them. How many fronts are inclined, how many hearts yearn for those who have decided to follow or adore them! What meat did those Caesars feed on to grow so big? Did God or man, time, place or chance sow the immortal seed? And how many seats are still available at the Table of the Gods? And the storehouses of genius and goodness from which every child of the universe can reap his share - are they still depleted or locked away? And will those hearts that beat with the secret urge of the spirit (perhaps it was the same spirit that drives all existence) faint in the beginning? Go ahead, go ahead, the sun is already high above your head! Or are you afraid because the day is late that you will lack time? I tell you, the race is on for Eternity. The heavens are opened, and those whose faces are like the day, Seraphim and Cherubim, call to the sons of men and say to him, "Be courageous!"

"Begin. Who justly prolongs life's hour,

The peasant waits until the river flows; but he

It slides and slides in every undulating age.”

Choice of quite Newspapers: 1841-1843 (sight, professional).






(From E, F, G, H and J magazines)

[In January, Mr. Emerson - his Essays sent to the press - had to prepare a lecture on "The Reforming Man", which he delivered before the Mechanics' Apprentices' Library Association in Boston on the 25th of the month. Sedentary work and a harsh winter seem to have left him in a bad shape in the spring, and in April he entered into a pleasant and successful alliance with Henry Thoreau, then aged 24, which lasted two years. Thoreau became, as it were, the eldest son in the family, engaged in gardening, set up a poultry farm, grafted trees, and skillfully performed minor work and repairs in the house. He was at home during Mr. Emerson and was very considerate of Mrs. Emerson, whom he always thought of as something of an abbess. He was a wonderful friend to the children and had a great gift for entertaining and helping them. He has set aside the time he wants to study, away and at home. Sometimes he walked with Mr. Emerson and showed him the secrets of nature in the forest, swamp or river. The lack of skill of Mr. Emerson in gardening or domestic emergencies was admirably supplied by her young friend.]


January1, 1841.

I begin the year by sending my booklet of Essays to the press. What remains to be done with its imperfect chapters I will endeavor to do justly. I see no reason why we cannot write with as much greatness of mind as we can serve or suffer. Let the page be filled with character, not the writer's skill.

Goethe is right in his way of treating colors, that is, poetically, humanly. Beethoven is very proud, but he is magnificent.

(the F)

I wondered about the continent of Nature under the bright night sky, and really Pan should be represented in mythology as the greatest continent of the gods. But no less admirable is the mud of the good spirit that inhabits it. Why can I, can anyone, spare the next day, the next year of our lives? Can anyone consent to die now? Don't we always hope that this wonderful restraint, which refuses to let the secret slip and gives us none of the ravishing intelligence that everyone feels must be behind it, will finally give way to the need to convey the divine wonder?

This reserve and silence of time.


O Confessional."Does nature, my friend, never show you the reverse side of the tapestry?" Never look dirty and shabby? Never say: “Old stones! old rain! ancient scenery! you did your best; There's nothing more to say; praise to weariness; you went a little too far with your joke”? — Or, on the other hand, do you think that nature is always transcendent and new every day? I know, I know, how agile, - good monster. You have completely exhausted your power of attunement and today you come to a new thought, and lo! in an instant, the whole world is suddenly transformed into a code or an exponent of that very thought, and every leaf and drop of water sings it in full chorus. He has been singing this song every day since Creation in your deaf ears.

Continuing with your prismatic, I want the spermatic book. Plato, Plotinus and Plutarch are like that..

In considering the nature of everything, it is necessary to focus our attention on the purity of it. (Plotinus.)

Every soul pays guardian attention to what is inanimate. (Plato in

Necessity is indeed in the mind, but persuasion is in the soul. (Plotinus.)



Sometimes what Prudence stands for is done. True prudence is not a departure from high character. A man driven by interrupted impulses of virtue would lead a violent and unhappy life. Those continental, firm, immovable people who are scattered up and down for the blessing of the world, whatever name they may be called, Osiris or Washington or Samuel Hoar, have in this phlegm or gravity of their nature a quality corresponding to the flywheel. on a mill that distributes the motion equally over all the wheels and prevents it from falling unevenly and suddenly in devastating blows....

He didn't get it from books, but where he got it from a bookmaker.

Books take us out of ecstasy.

We look to mercury to know heat, but nature is the mercury of our progress. Do we melt the sun or does the sun melt us? did we freeze january or january we?

We exhaust nature, but we read one of the professors and immediately become aware of new classes of laws, and the world transforms itself into types so smiling majestic and so equal that we have a new idea of ​​wealth and grow impatient with our words and think that we will never again we will use them; like boys who had a rocking horse or a boat and then got on a live horse or a sailboat - they despise their toys.

A powerful influence must never let us go; never be beside yourself, sleeping or waking: your name is on our lips, though we do not often come into your company.

You, O truth, never let us go.

Love for nature - what is it but a premonition of your intelligence? Nature is preparing to become our language.

Mechanics easily change trades, as what they learn in their apprenticeship is the use of tools, and having learned this they can readily turn to any new job. All knowledge is therefore eccentric and, of course, the progress of knowledge is geometric. Are there three rates of growth, arithmetic, geometric and circumferential, or from the center outwards?


Of those restless demons that flit or glisten through the brain, what line can I hope to draw on my sketch pad? It struck me as wonderful to read in Plotinus the calm and majestic appearance of those few cherubim - the great spiritual lords who walked the world - those of the ancient religion - who live in the cult that constitutes the holy places of Christianity.Reachedand just popular...

"Blessed," said the Review I so loved, is the man who has no power, and, as I wrote long ago, Happy is the man who hears: unhappy is the man who speaks. The reason is obvious: it is better to be poor and helpless at work, because our hearts are busy and amazed at the immensity of God, than to be at leisure memorizing and completing our trivial jobs because communication with the Divinity is no longer open. us. Therefore the ancients very wisely represented the Muses as the daughters of Memory. But when vision and unity come, there is no leisure for memory or muse.

The farmer and the ox, or the rider and his horse, indicate the natural partnership of wisdom and strength: each needs the other.


Man needs to think a lot about himself because he is a necessary being: the link between the two avid parts of Nature was missing and he was thrown into existence as a bridge, over that gaping need...

When I look at the sleet that sweeps through the pine forest, my sentences seem so worthless, and I think I'll never write again: but words impelled by an irresistible mercy, words whose path from heart to lips I cannot follow, - are more beautiful that the snow. It's sad to be an artist...

We need to come to nature from a higher law and reclassify it. There is no mud or dirt in chemistry: the ignorant, the corrupt, know the dirt: the chemist sees everything dissolved in a chain of immaterial, immortal, irresistible laws. This is how we have to come to nature, that is, this is how we walk and work and build and socialize. We must not scold, we must not raise our hands to the people, but, inspired, we must admire their violence and lead them with our eyes to harmonious choirs.

Man is a poor and limited benefactor...


God gives us the facts and doesn't tell us why; but reason lives indeed; we are sure that their order is correct: there is no interpolation: and they just await our maturer insight to become harmonious in their order and proportion. God knows their divine reason at all times. Swedenborg writes history behind ideas. Whether he names a Jew or a Persian, a Moravian or a Lutheran, a Papist or an African, he gives us a reason in his character for the fact that he names. I hope that the day will come when no one wants to write history but the one who does it by divine right. The man who was born to see the order of certain facts was born to write that history. Anyone else, not so qualified, who influences the doing of this work is an imposter, and the work is not done....

All my thoughts are foresters. I rarely have a dream in which the breath of pines did not blow and their shadows waved. Should I not then call my book Essays from the Forest?

Ecstasy, religion, they rely essentially on themselves, the hypnotized immediately speak from an immeasurable height to the one who walked beside them just yesterday. They are not looking for sympathy. But the soul entering its temple novitiate, when praying or singing, asks its old friends if it is really prayer and music?

O Gift.— May not all literature and all our distant experiences be useful in teaching us how the today that seems so trivial, the task that seems so unheroic, the expressionless empty vision of the present moment... to teach us that these are phenomena utterly deceptive and that, once the irreversible years have put their blue between them and us, these things will shine and attract us, pretending to be the wildest romance and - so far as we allow them by passing to take their own course and natural shape - homes of beauty and poetry?

Romani.— Finding a story I thought I rememberedquentinI flipped through the book until I was honestly caught in the stupid old trap and read and read to the end of the novel. Then, as many times before, I feel indignant at having been tricked and lured by a foolish boy and girl, to see them finally wedded and separated, and I immediately walked out the door like a beggar following a joyous procession to heaven. castle. If they had uttered a noble thought that opens the abysses of the intellect, a feeling of the heart of God, I would have become a partaker of their triumph, I would have been an eternal guest and guest, but this prize that was bestowed upon them is property, property that excludes everything, a scone made for them and no one else, no, which is rude and offensive to everyone but the owner. INWilliamI am a welfare shareholder.

However, a novel can teach one thing as well as my street-corner choices of where to go - whether to my quest or to the woods - that, namely, what it does commands respect; the action constitutes the character, the power, the man, God.

These novels will gradually give way to diaries or autobiographies; — Amazing books, if only a man knew how to choose between what he calls his experiences, what is really his experience, and how to faithfully record the truth!


I am delighted with the lameness of some organ: if I have a cold and the thought I would say to my friend comes in stony, sepulchral tones, I am disgusted and will speak no more. But just as a drunk who cannot walk can run, I can deliver my speech before the assembly when I cannot answer a question in the hall without pain. But lately it's been a general winter for me. I am not sick, as far as I know, but the names and projects of my friends sound distant and faint and untouchable to my ears, as do, when I am sick, the voices of men and the sounds of the work that happens to me. listen in my lonely bed. I'm a weak and limited creature, with only a small amount of life force income to spend, which if I use up a few days of vacation, I must feed the rest of the time on water and moss. Last night I was at the Rainers concert in our courthouse. When I heard them in Boston, I had some dreams about music: last night, nothing. I liked the crowd last night. I looked with great pride and affection on the company of my fellow citizens, and dreamed of that kingdom and society of love which we preach.

His virtues were the virtues of the senses. You cannot say how much of good nature and generosity must be attributed to a good dinner and how much to character. There's a lot of poetry and good feeling in the tea chest....

Judging from my own experience, I'm afraid I should keep silent about all my good things about the writers' work. They must be exempt from any kind of public or private responsibility. A locust is a burden to them. I guard my humor as carefully as a miser guards his money; for a company, a job, my own household chores, get in the way and disqualify me from writing. I don't think a writer should be married; he shouldn't have a family. I think the Roman Church with its celibate clergy and monastic cells was right. If he is to marry, perhaps he should be considered most fortunate who has an astute wife, a respectable lady with a sharp tongue who can and will take charge of all the household economy, and having some feeling that her philosopher is the better. in his learning, allows him not to interfere with his parsimony. He will be master but not lover, as Elizabeth Hoar said.


— What right do I have to write about Prudence, of which I have little and negative?...


Leaves It is Sim Tempo.— If the world would wait just a moment, if a day could be inserted here and there, let it not be time, but a pause and rest, a rest during which sun and stars, old age and decay, debts and interests, money, claims and duties, all must be stopped and suspended into a tranquil trance, so that the poor man and woman can take off their seatbelts and take a deep breath and think what to do, undisturbed by the knowledge that new duties are piling up for them, just as they are thinking of many old accumulated obligations! But this onward, onward, ever onward wears away unabated. All families live in an eternal rush. Everything rational is still postponed and ends up obscure and poorly done or rolled out of sight and memory.


In March a long time. March always comes if it doesn't come by May. May usually never comes.

The poverty or actuality of my experience must not prevent me from asserting the law of the soul: no, although there never was a life that in any way represented the facts. We are obliged to say what already is, what is explained and shows each of us right and wrong, even though we are far from that inner health that would make that true order the order of our lives.

What a gamble is our experience deciding that such a fact or character cannot exist because it never did, as if there were no reason why it should now exist.


I sent copies of my essays to Nathaniel L. Frothingham, Sam G. Ward, J. G. Palfrey, N. I. Bowditch, Margaret Fuller, Caroline Sturgis, W. H.

Furness, [Vlč.] Dr. Francis, Samuel Ripley, F. H. Hedge, George Ripley, Abel Adams, J. R. Lowell, Dr. James Jackson, Dr. Charles T. Jackson, [Teta] Mary Moody Emerson, William Emerson, Henry Ware, Jr., George P. Bradford, D[avid] H[enry] Thoreau, A. B. Alcott, W. Ware, e Lucy C. Brown, F. A. Farley, Elizabeth Hoar, William Henry Channing, W. E. Channing, Jr., [Vlč. .] Barzillai Frost, J. M. Cheney, Rockwood Hoar, Majka, Lidian, H. Colman, Thomas W. Haskins, Sarah Searle, Edward Palmer, William Wordsworth, Thomas Carlyle, John Sterling, Harriet Martineau, J. W. Marston, Sophia Peabody [Sra. Hawthorne], Wm. M. Jackson, H. Bulfinch, Mary Russell, M. W. Willis,n. T.


Don't judge the poet's life sad because of his melancholy verses and confessions of despair. As he was able to let go of his pain in these writings, he moved on free and at peace with new experiences. You must be a poet too to draw any fair conclusions about what he was from all the records, however rich they may be, that he left. Did you hear him speak? His speech did great injustice to his thinking. It was better or worse. He gave you the treasure trove of his memories, or used a subject rich in allusions to express hopes happier than those his life cherished, or sorrows poured out with an energy and religion that was an intellectual game, not a habit of his character. . . You will not recognize their love or hate by their speech and behavior. Cold and silent, he will be in the circle of those friends with whom, when they are absent, his heart always walks and talks. Face to face with that friend who at that moment is the essence of night and morning, of sea and land, the only equal and worthy incarnation of Thought and Faith—silence and darkness will overwhelm him; his speech will be dry and trivial. There is no farce deeper than the most honest man. Do not believe his blush, for he does not blush because of his affection, but because of his doubt. Do not believe his works, because they are often penances and fines, which he feared, and not indicators of his desire. Do not infer your ignorance or indifference from your silence. Don't think you have his thoughts when you've heard his speech through to the end. Do not condemn him as worldly and vulgar, for he respects the rich and highborn, for to him the glittering symbol has an incredible beauty that no other eye has, and it fills his eyes, and his heart dances with pleasure in which no envy and no pettiness mingle. Life's circumstances blind and overwhelm him as it passes, because he is such a delicate meter of all influences. You will finally find him noble, noble in his chamber.

"But the gymnast said: 'My sovereign lord, such is the nature and constitution of the French that they are worth nothing except at the first push.'" —(Rabelais.)

I read with joy the life of Pythagoras by Iamblichus; and the use of certain melodies to awaken in the student, sometimes purity, sometimes courage, sometimes kindness. YesLifethe melody itself is suitable for these holy services. I especially admire the patience and longevity of the novice's judgment. Your face, your gait, your manners, your diet, your conversation, your associates, your employments, have all been investigated and observed; then a long discipline was imposed, a long silence, new and extensive doctrines were taught, and then their vivacity and capacity for virtue were again investigated. — If all else fails, then his property (otherwise made common) is returned to him, a tomb built in his memory, and ever since he has been spoken of and regarded by the school Long patience in this world of fugitives is itself an argument striking for the eternity of the soul, it confirms the faith of those who so despise our quick almanacs. He who treats human beings as centuries-old, millenary natures, convinces me of his faith... However, how much I admire the use they make of music as a medicine. But to me, with deaf ears, Order and Self-Control are the "tunes" I must use to soften and calm the ferocity of my animal and alien elements.

I saw with great pleasure a French artist's planks of the ruins of Palenque in Mexico: Cyclopean remains of simple and original architecture, which are immediately compared with the best of Egyptian, Doric or Gothic. Its great visual value is the emancipation of the spirit on which it acts. Everything is possible again. We are no longer forced to reproduce buildings in one of five or six mindless styles, but we are as free as dreams, as free as desires, as free as new needs can make us.

Don't you see how social and intrusive is the nature of all things? They ever seek to penetrate and surpass all the natures of all other creatures, and themselves in all ways and through space and spirit, in order to surpass and possess...

Man is a tender, irritable, sensitive matrix or receiver. The pollen of all these magnificent flowers, these wild forests, blows up and down and abides in it, and produces a universal many-sided flower, rich in the qualities of all nature.

There is nothing that man meditates on, but at the same time strives to recreate - be it a gallery of sculptures, or economic machinery, or a government, or a bank, or a starry sky, or a field of flowers, - a ship or a painting, music or a farm, whaling or war. Smooth and light, all the images float freely on his retina: the poet is the one who manages to fix the biggest picture and keep the conversation alive for a millennium. What are all these artists and masters of commerce, war, science, art, who rise and fall with so much energy, but celebrants, worshippers, and favourites, one might say, each of some substance or relation in Nature? This bright and seductive property first sang a siren song in his ear, was his seductress and sycophant, and finally possessed and enraged him completely in her service.


In the great unwanted blizzard of this day, I must erase the line to recognize the value of those social tests that we are all taken to in order to be approved or condemned. As the chemist subjects a new substance to the action of oxygen, hydrogen, electricity, vegetable blue, etc., so every soul in our little Massachusettscircleit goes through the ordinary series of social reagents, market, church, salon, literary circle, writing, speech, dancing, reforms, etc., to establish its special powers. We love those tests that awaken our hidden powers and give us a chance to shine; we hate and slander those who reveal our shortcomings. A poet paralyzed in the company of the young and beautiful, where he would like to shine, takes revenge with satire and burdens it with emptiness and ostentation. It is just that those for whose friendship we are candidates, and those who are candidates for ours - and all men and all women are like that - have the opportunity to put and be put in every pot.

But when we are tempted and need someone, the wise heart will see to that mortification until a flower sprouts from the pit of evil. They will learn it, not by trying to do, as others do, what they are unable to do, but by waiting dutifully from month to month, from year to year, and ever making new efforts towards greater self-truth, whether a new truth will finally appear. way, whereby we will do a corresponding action in our circle.

I read it alternately in Doctor Nichol and in Saint-Simon, that is, in Heaven and on Earth, and the effect is quite grotesque...

I am of the Creator and the Created. The immensity of the Universe, the sinister year of Mizar and Alcor are not for me vastness, nor longevity. In the eternity of truth, in the omnipotence of love, I despise these monsters. Through all the flows of the sea of ​​form, I am truth, I am love, and I changelessly transcend form as I do with time and space.

Is a dish an appropriate reward for a virtuous action? or is the friend he won, the insight he gave, and the reaction he caused a suitable reward? And is science always taught in laboratories, or will it one day be eaten and drunk, snorted and tested, dug and swum and walked and dreamed?

Every man tries to write poetry somewhere, but most men don't know what their poems are.


Saint-Simon paints Fénelon as he sees him from the army and the salons of Versailles, so that his Fénelon is Saint-Simon in excess and not Fénelon.

I have lately been tempted to wish, for the benefit of our literary society, that we had a friendly institutionCafeteria.Far better than Munroe's bookshop would be a cafe where at one o'clock one would certainly find scholars walking out after finishing their morning studies.

— We have a certain impression of sanctity when we are going to deal with our children and at that moment we refer to a principle that "we do not refer to on other occasions". Of course, we failed: the child feels the deception. There is simply no Holy Spirit and no effect can appear.


Wouldn't it be well for the young people of Waterville to write a history of our present literary and philosophical crisis, a picture of the parties, and read an omen of the hours to come? Ethics and philosophy died in England. How lonely Coleridge is and how it shows, not so much because of his strength, but because of his loneliness. In this country, multitudes of people eager to read and hear every word of God. However, for the most part, there is a great monotony in the history of our liberal or reforming class youth. They only achieved rejection, not affirmation. Therefore, they appear angry and offensive: they have nothing new or memorable to offer; and that is the fault of his writings - profuse declamation, but no new subject: after a very short time it becomes intolerably wearisome to the reader, and the pretty young men and women who the other day looked in that direction, with eyes of hope like the first rays of morning, turn with a kind of bitterness from the saturation of speeches, promises and preaching. It seems that silence, personal strength, joy, solid action are natural remedies.

We are a weak and unstable people. Hesitation and following are our diseases. The rapid wealth which hundreds in the commonwealth acquire in trade, or by the continual expansion of our population and arts, delights the eyes of all others, the happiness of one is the hope of thousands, and a whole generation is dissatisfied with the backwardness of growth. that satisfies all European communities. America is... the land of small adventures, short plans, daring risks, no patience, no big combinations, no long, persistent and intertwined plans, which require the greatest strength, temper, faith and poverty. . Our books are tents, not pyramids: our reformers are soft, weary talkers, not obedient, unchanging, attractive men; performing their own task and thus "enchanting fear" and persuading without knowing they are doing it. There is no Duke Wellington, George Washington, Milton, Bentley or Hearn among our swift and impetuous race; but plenty of Murats, Rienzis, Wallers, and that little race that laid all its wager on the first dice they rolled.

Great people never leave their projects for their children to complete: they eat too much cake.

The most interesting class of people are those who are geniuses and powerful in every way....

Sam Ward was beautiful to me, among so many ordinary, mediocre young men I see, when I honestly knew him and just named him that way.

There are two theories of life, one for the demonstration of our talent and the other for the education of man. Life in politics, in college, in the city is very seductive, because it calls for the former, but honesty counts, all the time spent on the former is wasted, or little. But listen to the Genius when it seems to lead to uninhabitable deserts, sink deep into the fact that attracts you, though no newspaper, no poet, no man ever found life and beauty in that region, and now that men, when the gods whispered for them if they started hunting in that direction, they would find they couldn't get to the point they would have reached without passing that road you built. His hermitage [will be] the Holy City and the fairgrounds of the whole world.

War was conducted politely, as a contest of the aristocracy, in the time of Louis XIV. The Duke of Saint-Simon relates that, when the Marshal de Lorges, general of the army of the Rhine, fell ill, Louis of Baden, general of the enemy, sent by trumpet the offerings of his physicians, supplies, and every kindness and attention in his power.


America, not Europe, is the rich man. According to De Tocqueville, the column of our population on the western boundary of Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico (twelve hundred miles as the crow flies) advances each year an average distance of seventeen miles. He adds: “This gradual and continuous progress of the European race towards the Rocky Mountains has the solemnity of a providential event; it is like a flood of people that grows non-stop and is impelled daily by the hand of God”.

Animals.“Pirates don't live on nuts and herbs. The use of animal foods marks the extremely narrow limits of our ideas of justice. We limit our justice to men only, according to Porphyry's observation. Surely, all our life must be good, and heliotrope, candy and thyme must not smell sweeter.

April 22.

Whenever the Church is restored, the culture of the intellect will be applied to it, not as now, with excuses and reservations, but conscientiously and to shame and regret for our fat, slow, and trivial way of life. And I think the work of a college should be as hard and rough, I might say as daring, as any work done in agriculture or war. And the student must feel terribly ashamed if, when he reads of the marches of Hannibal or Napoleon across the Alps, or the difficulties of Hudson and Parry in their polar voyages, or the indulgence of Columbus, these distinguished instances of resistance seem to indicate to him greater masculinity and resolution, more continual industry, or ruder courage than he practices in his silent library. He wants to be a serene smile, a modest and inoffensive reader of books that the newspapers applaud, to be helped over the fence when he walks with a man, as if he were a girl (like my dear Reverend Mr. A.), — I don't see how he is better than a footman hired to read, rather than one hired to wait on tables or shine boots. His courage is not that of a soldier or sailor, but that of a scholar, and is as worthy of admiration as theirs is his.

Shouldn't man be sacred to man? What are these thoughts we express but the reason for our incorporation? To speak these thoughts, we made flesh, missionaries of the eternal Word to be spoken.


Don't look for reasons among your series of reasons, but give yourself as the only reason. We daily forget our high call of discoverers - we forget that we embark on a sacred and unknown sea in whose blue recesses we have a secret guarantee that we shall not yet reach the Happy Isles hidden from men; and at every insolent wooden craft, revenue cutter, or rum ship that beckons us, we are astonished and abandon our purpose, and are ready to return to the rotten cities we left and give up the quest for the virgin shore. .

No great man ever complains of lack of opportunity - no, nor of any lack, but which he himself has not. All that he charges against his wealth is only accusing himself. Desire for opportunity! Why didn't divine necessity create it? Was he not created because something must exist and be done, what is he and no one else and does? ifethe world is visible enough, dressed in glitter and prismatic hues. If I see again from a deeper energy, I pierce the joyous surface on all sides, and every mountain, rock, man and deed becomes transparent before me...

When I please, I can say: These hands, this body, this Waldo Emerson story are profane and wearisome, but I condescend not to meddle with it, or with any man. Above his life, above all creatures, I descend forever, the sea of ​​well-being in the races of individuals. Nor can the current recede, or man's sin or death tarnish the unchanging energy which is distributed in men, like the sun in rays, or the sea in a drop.

When Coleridge speaks, or Scott writes novels, or Wordsworth writes poems, there is one admirable fact; and now the activity of engineers, railway builders and manufacturers is real and inventive and deserves respect. Commerce and speculation cross its old borders and take new paths. Reform today is creative and not servile. But the only rule and condition of merit and worth of attention is not fame, nor numbers, nor wealth, nor geography, but only vitality. Your title to be studied should be measured only by people... If you want to know what was done a long time ago, look at institutions, millions, wealth, laws. If you want to know what God has in your heart right now, look into the bright eye, listen to the melodious speech, mark the irresistible hand in which this energy now flows. It matters not what subject men prefer, but what subject or instance they choose to study it. Neither divination, nor ethics, nor astronomy are better than the shoemaker or the rules of chess, but the only object of study is the great man. The great personal ascent is a deluge of reason, and in it he will read the laws of gods, men and atoms. But scholars who are supposed to be soothsayers, ephors, judges, eyes and souls, bow to insignia and officials, and do not demand that every man they meet be the founder of a family or profession, the inventor of a way of life. Geology, chemistry, animal dynamics, electricity, law of day and night and all material relationships are read aloud.

We must distinguish a hero's greatness from his failure, and not devote as much nonsense as we do because great men have allowed it. Not without its flaw...


I watched him and he fixed his eyes on me, his big eyes serious. Then a current of spiritual power flowed through me and I looked farther and farther than I normally do, and all the people's faces changed and the appearance of things changed. People seemed to me like mountains, and their faces were full of thoughts, and there were great gaps between them, and their tops rose into the air. And when I went out of his sight, it seemed to me that his eyes were a great river, like the Ohio or the Danube, which always shed a torrent of strong, sad light on some people, wherever it went, and winked at them. with the quality of your soul.

A balance must be maintained, — the power of generalization and the power of individualization must coexist to make a poet; Will and abandonment, social and solitary humor, man and opportunity.

Beauty is the only sure sign, so if I feel threatened by your word I know it's a bully, I know it's weak, I know there's a better word that can be discovered and retrieved. Truth is just that word that is beautiful and fragrant, that blooms and rejoices, that runs before me like greenery and vines in bloom, sowing Paradise in its path. So I hate to hear that the American always has a cloud hanging over his forehead.

Often the best part of my Concord bus ride from my home to Winthrop Place is Prince Street, Charter Street, Ann Street, and similar places on Boston's North Side. The sloppiness of men and women, their unbridled attitudes and manners, make the pictures far more interesting than the clean-shaven, silk-clad parades on the streets of Washington and Tremont. I often see the attitudes of men and women engaged in hard work more picturesque than any that art and study can conceive, for the Heart is in the former. I saypicturesque;because when I pass by these groups, I immediately know where all the beautiful paintings I saw came from: I feel the painter in me: these are the qualities that make us feel strength and eloquenceformand a splash of color. But he's just a painteryoumy; does not reach the fingers. But as I see the real image, I feel how it was created; I feel the genius is organized or lost. It is a gift from God; how Fanny Elssler can dance and Braham can sing, while many worthy citizens and their wife, however willing they may be, in no culture can paint, dance, or sing. Let them not be so ridiculous as to try, but you know, you know everything, that no citizen, or wife of a citizen, not a single soul, is left without an organ. Each soul is a soul or an individual based on its possession, or should I say existence, of the power to translate the universe into some language of its own:... If all the dancing, painting and poetry that ever was, it's because man is weak at heart and a liar.

If you want to see the wonders of art and the grace of society without feeling inferior, make your life secretly beautiful.

[Here follow the passages on genius and talent, which were printed in "The Method of Nature" (pp. 204 and 218). The next reference to Miss Mary Moody Emerson occurs, in the Journal, in the middle of the last paragraph.]

It could4.

Aunt Mary, whose letters I read all yesterday afternoon, Genius is always new, subtle, cheerful, musical, unpredictable. All his learning from all literatures and social conditions, Platonic, Calvinistic, English or Chinese, would never enable him to anticipate a single thought or expression. She is not ashamed of Moses, nor of Paul, nor of Angelo, nor of Shakespeare, after whose type she should mold her speech: her intelligence is a wild horse of desart, that sniffs the south and seeks out the palm grove, without having learned to walk at the stadium or at Tattersall. What liberal and cheerful architecture, liberal and multiform like the plants from the bosom of the earth or the creation of frost on the window! Nothing can surpass the freedom and happiness of his letters - such is the nobility of this self-restraint, this absence of any appeal to style or pattern: it is the march of mountain winds, the swaying of flowers, or the flight of birds. . But a man can hardly be a bookworm without acquiring his middle tone, as one who walks with a military procession involuntarily falls into step.

In each family there is its own little corpus of literature, divinity, and personal biography - a common stock given by its upbringing and circumstances, and from which all draw allusions and illustrations for their conversation, though they are unintelligible (at least in accent). given to him) a stranger. So in my youth after we brought it homeWear Juanand learned to pester Aunt Mary with heartfelt repetitions of the shipwreck lines: "They wept for those who perished in the cutter, And also for the barrels of biscuits and butter,"

—— this became synonymous with the vile mocking spirit which characterized the present age, in contrast to the supposed serious and religious spirit of the Puritans, and especially of the austere saints of Concord and Malden, whom she so quickly came to remember.

I found her letter to Charles, dated Waterford, October 1831: – “you may be here this afternoon – not a creature, but a dog and I – we are not going to a four day meeting. today, and so much rush from another society. What a day! Here is a balsam tree - but a few leaves remain, as if deliberately drawing attention to be seen day after day playing in the wind - and an abandoned nest. Oh! where are your worried parents and your beloved children? Dead? Where is the mysterious principle of life?... Nine hours passed. The vision of beauty has changed - a white mist has risen, which hides the venerable mountain, but shows the trees in picturesque beauty, and the abandoned nest is hidden by a soft blanket, like the oblivion that rests on the misery of the wretched. Immediately after the house left for the evening vigil in the chapel, a man came to fetch me to write a takeaway message. The peculiarity of the notes here is that one friend asks for the conversion of another - this is how the best human feelings are put into action. But notice that I brought the only good pen out of the four by mistake (one I don't use for you or Brother S.) and persuaded him to cut short his appeals; and, as he was satisfied, there was certainly no harm. And here is a living voice - and the moon's enchantment is gone - he rides full of splendor - the tarn gathers his misty wanderers to his bosom, and the trees stretch their bare arms to the sky like wounded martyrs of persecution."

Novi England— We tend to prefer the new relationships we create, such asour ternatural that they displaced. But how strict they are, we have to learn later, when we vividly remember our childhood and youth and feel touching loneliness even in the crowd of modern friends. As I read these letters to the M.M.E., I acknowledge (surprised that I can forget it) my and my brethren's debt to that old religion which in those years still lived as a Sabbath of peace among the New England peasants, who were taught to deprivation, self-denial, and sorrow. Man was born, not for prosperity, but to suffer for the benefit of others, like the noble stone maple that bleeds throughout the village in the service of the people. Not the praise, not the acceptance of our works by men, but the holy work of the Spirit through us, absorbed this thought.

How worthy is this! how all that is called talent and valor in Paris and Washington vanishes before him! How ashamed we are now of our friendships and the indulgences we used - they drift away, they disappear, revelers and gifted companions - and our eldest companions, dear children and earnest relatives with whom we played and learned and mourned the return. and put your hands together again. I suddenly feel that my life is frivolous and public; I'm like an outcast, I live on the porch or in the street; I would like to leave my present companions as if they were thieves or thieves, and go to some Thebais, some Mount Athos, in the depths of New Hampshire or Maine, to mourn my innocence and recover it, and with it be able to communicate again with those participants. of a holier idea. I esteem Andover, Yale, and Princeton as altars to that same old fire, though I fear they burned the cedar and sandalwood there too, and learned to use shavings and pine.

But I wanted to say above, that we are surprised to find ourselves alone, that what is most sacred in our character and abilities is not appreciated by those around us, and so remains unnecessary and dormant, and that it is necessary that our dear spirits should come back, or like them, to challenge us to real fights.

Carlos eu—I must record the pleasure I took, amidst all this letter-reading, in some letters to C.C.E. from his college colleagues, in the uniform tone of affection and respect with which those boys—for such they still were—addressed him. Eduardo was also respected by his friends, admired, but, I suppose, never loved — they didn't understand him, they didn't feel — he confused them. However, I still fondly remember Charles's remark when he returned from visiting Edward in Puerto Rico, that the tone of conversation was as frivolous and low as possible, but that Edward never allowed anything inappropriate to be said in his presence. not to mention the right way. , and so benevolently and so well, as always to command respect and be a check to society. But Charles has always, since his school days, had this and that of the best in him; it was truth, honest service, homage to something noble and superior, which the giver considered a compliment to himself. So he brought boarders into the houses he frequented, Danforth in Cambridge and Pelletier in Boston.

It could6.

These letters revive my fading purpose to write Charles's much-requested memoirs. This would certainly have been improper: it was right for a young and dear friend to ask, It was wrong of me to undertake; the very nobility of the promise should make us more reluctant to recite the disappointment of the promise. Let us not lower ourselves to writing the annals of disease and disproportion. Charles was delighted with strength, grace, poetry, success; -let's make a false promise, and the only proof of that was his position at the head of his college class upon graduation. I remember Mr. Everett in his memory at one of our annual BK meetings. Did he speak of a blow that shook the strings of his fine intellect and made them resound, to the point of making him an unwitting object of pity, the center of a group of sorrows, the statue of a caryatid in our temple of Fate? But now, as I read these yellowing letters from Aunt Mary, I'm starting to think about the project in a new way. I doubt if the inner and spiritual history of New England could be told more truthfully than through a family history exhibit such as this one, a group photo of Aunt Mary and the boys, particularly Charles. That woman's genius, the key to her life, is in the clash of new and old ideas in New England. Heir to all that was rich, deep and effective in thought and emotion in the ancient faith that planted and inhabited this land. She strangely united to this passionate piety the fatal gifts of penetration, the love of philosophy, the impatience of words, and therefore she was a religious sceptic. She clung with both hands to the faith of past generations as the Palladium of all that was good and hopeful in the physical and metaphysical worlds; and in all company and at all times, and especially with these dear nephews of her hope and pride, she glorified and poetized this beloved Calvinism. Yet all the while she doubted and denied, and she couldn't decide whether she should be happier or sadder to discover that these boys were incorrigibly born to embrace and promote new ideas. She reminds me of Margaret Graeme, the Scott enthusiastAbbotwho lives to instill in young Roland his enthusiasm for the Church of Rome; just thatourMargaret doubted while she loved. Milton and Young were poets beloved by the generation they represented. They were proud of Milton, but I don't think their religion ever found a more faithful image than inNightThese combined traits in Aunt Mary's character gave a new direction to her hope, that these boys were richly and holyly qualified, and brought up to purify the old faith from that narrowness and error which suited it, and import all its fire into the new age. . , — such a gift their Prometheus should bring to men. She hated poor, short, thin, useless, unpoetic humanitarians as destroyers of the Church and stealers of souls, and never tired of heaping upon them new conditions of contempt and weariness. "Oh!" she said, "what a poet Byron would have been if he had been born and raised a Calvinist."


A beautiful and eloquent day, rich with more than I can say, though I tried in verse. We rightly call the groves enchanting, they confuse all our measures and disturb our whole system of tradition... man and his works; Babylon and Great Britain are very close and are not to be discriminated against. Here one feels strongly that Circumstance is nothing.

The current era will perhaps be marked for a long time by the importance that for several centuries has been attributed to two words, namely,Sirand yet you see how this is the prevalence or overflow of an idea rather than any person or purpose. Who made this? Who raised these two words to their dignity in the metaphysical and practical world? Has anyone participated in this exaggeration? Obviously no one, but all people. Well then, there is no such fact or thought that does not also have its turn and be celebrated.

General Harrison was neither a Whig nor a Tory, but the President of Indignation; and, what was not at all surprising in this feeble generation, he could not bear the excitement of seventeen million people, but died of the Presidency within a month. A man would have to have a heart and a vascular body on the level of the Aqueduct or Mantle Maximus in Rome to be able to withstand the attrition of such a flow from the Mississippi.

Dewdrops that are only superficial, what depth they make the morning meadows look when walking! As well as good manners, also social talents for frivolous society.

We know as little about humans as we do about plants. We do not doubt that every weed in our soil has its purpose, and undoubtedly an excellent and admirable use; but now how badly they figure in our Materia Medica! And is not a man better than a dogwood or a hawthorn? I walked in my dream with an expert who said: ... he could not speak many words to me, because the life of incarnated natures was short, but that the vice of men is old age, which they should never know; for even if they had seen ten centuries, they would still be younger than the waters, that - hear their sound! how young and how old! Nor, he said, should men accept the sadness of any external event; for poverty, death, floods, fires are the disadvantages of cold wind or passing vapors that do not affect the permanent soul. He added that just as a river flows, a plant also flows (or emits smells), and the sun flows (or radiates), and the mind is a flow of thoughts, so the universe was an emanation from God... So , he added, those who wish to find only one meaning in sacred words and images, in the name of the gods, like Jupiter, Apollo, Osiris, Vishnu, Odin: or in the sacred names of Western Europe and its colonies, like Jesus and the Holy Spirit: for these are symbols like the coins of different countries, adopted by proximity or local convenience, and receiving their code from some forgotten accident, the name of a consul, or the whim of a goldsmith; but they all represent the value of grain, wool, and labor, and can easily be converted into each other, or into the currencies of any new country. That sense which is conveyed to a man by the name and rites of Pan or Jehovah, another finds in the study of earthquakes and floods, another in the forms and habits of animals; a third in commerce or politics; fourth in electromagnetism. Let man not resist the law of his mind and he will be filled with the divinity that flows through all things. He must emanate; he must give all he takes, not want to take ownership and stand still.

He also said that the doctrine of pantheism or the omnipresence of God would help to do away with respect for circumstances, or the treatment of all things according to the laws of time and place, and would accustom men to a deeper view. Therefore, he said, hospitality is an external fact. The troupes of guests who make themselves laugh like tenants in our homes and friends at our tables, week after week, record the angels who check and report our domestic behavior, our temperance, our conversation and behavior. Therefore, those with pure hearts, who have nothing to hide, are the most hospitable, that is, they always keep the house open. But for those who have something to hide, all guests are not welcome.

Man is the door between hell and heaven. A procession of all angels and forces flows through his heart when he wants good; when he wants evil, from all cattle and devil. You have just said that his heart is cold, that it is broken, and you wonder why God made it painful; and other similar things. What is the Heart but the power of giving and receiving that varies from moment to moment with action? Who blesses all beings or any being, —— to him, to her, bends the whole world of Spirits, like bundles of brothers according to the bundle of Joseph. Whoever curses someone, by word or deed, his, hers, all spirits in all worlds turn their backs. You cannot will without turning the key of Nature and opening or closing the gates of Light and Darkness. Where you are create value and you announce yourself on the wings of every wind, every ray of light becomes your advertisement and all souls will bid for you until your just wages are paid.

I always owe the genius the same for lifting the curtain of the common and showing me that the gods sit in disguise in this seeming group of gypsies and merchants. And why do I owe it to a book or a friend, and not to drill a thin one myself?incognito?A question I can ask, but I must ask it with my hands and my will. Holiness is the only step to the mountain of God. Yet I am constantly tempted to sacrifice genius for talent, hope, and the promise of insight (through the only door to a better existence) for the desire to play more freely and demonstrate the gifts I possess. We seek that pleasurable excitement which releases our faculties and gives us every advantage to display the ability we possess, and we buy this freedom to shine with the loss of general health. Humility, patience, abstinence, mortification, nakedness (apart from this garment of law, custom, wealth, and friends), they can teach philosophy, rhetoric, and poetry, which the world has not heard in these thousand years. Coffee is good for talent, but genius wants prayer. "Aren't you afraid that this keen sense of right and wrong that you have, of true and ridiculous in reform, will disappear for a while and won't exist, and you don't want to keep it to yourself?" I know you will. So do what you know...

What is strong but kindness, and what is energetic but the presence of a good man? It is time that this doctrine of the Presence...

The crystalline sphere of thought is concentric like the geological sphere we inhabit...

The various things which men extol, such as commerce, law, creeds, sciences, paintings, coins, manuscripts, histories, poems, are all partsvirtuwhich serve well enough to bring out man's talents, but are all distractions from the soul's perception. The veneration of saints is one of them - the veneration of Mohammed or of Jesus -, like everything else, a fine field of ingenuity for building theories: a beautiful and spacious platform on which to build institutions and societies, poetry, eloquence and reputation - not , a remedy., specific for present distress, crutch for fainting virtue, lozenge for the sick; - but, seriously and sadly considered, the remedy is more dangerous than the disease. The soul will have nothing to do with this wandering. Why do you Boswellize this saint or that? That's itlèse majestyit's a razor to the throat: here you are, with whom the universe has tormented work for so long. You dare to think ill of yourself - you whom firm fate has brought to unite your rough sides; shoot in the bay; reconcile the first irreconcilable? While you magnify something, you accuse yourself of insignificance, of belittling and delaying your own work, because once you pick up your plow handles, you will leave all names behind, just as living nature obliges us to. deposit all corpses underground. In the infinite disproportion between the soul and any of its incarnations, however holy and great they may be, all distinctions between the one and the other disappear - they have no parallax at so great a distance.

In every pulse of virtue, in every revelation of the soul, even the smallest, the soul asserts the kingdom of the universe, the descent of itself into man.

It could28.

Can they not learn that there is nothing agreed upon in the behavior?...

Common sense is the leader of fashion, just like everything else. A man has a strong sense for writing or commanding armies, but he does not become a figure in society simply because his reason does not work there - he is brought down by self-consciousness, or an excessive desire to please, or some other superstition; but the reason why he yields so readily to the carpet winners is, that he feels and sees that they handle the matter more sensibly than he does.

[In his letter to Carlyle, May 30, Mr. Emerson said:

“One of your readers and friends is now living in my house, and, I hope, within the next twelve months, - Henry Thoreau, - a poet of whom you will one day be proud; — noble and virile youth, full of melody and invention. We work together day after day in my garden and I'm growing well and getting stronger." —(Carlyle-Emersontom i, pismo LX.)]


I am sometimes dissatisfied with my house because it is on a dusty road and the thresholds and basement are almost on meadow water. But when I crawl out of it at night or in the morning and see what magnificent and soft beauties daily enfold me in its bosom, how close to me are all the transcendent secrets of nature's love and religion, I see how indifferent it is where I eat and eat. to sleep. It is this street of merchants and taverns that the moon will transform into Palmyra, because she is the apologist of all apologists, and she herself will kiss the elm trees and hide all meanness in the silver-clad darkness. Then the good river-god here assumed the form of my brave Henry Thoreau, and introduced me to the riches of his dark, starry, moonlit brook, a lovely new world that is so close, yet also unknown to this common common road of streets and shops like death to life, or poetry in prose. For just one field we went to the boat and then we left all time, all science, all history behind and entered Nature with a stroke of the oar. Take care, good friend! I said, as I looked westwards at the setting sun above and below, and he with his face towards me rowed towards him, - watch out; you don't know what you're doing, dipping your wooden spade into this enchanted liquid, colored in all reds, purples and yellows, which glows below and behind you. Soon that glory faded and the stars came and said, "Here we are"; began to hurl rays so private and inexpressible that they stopped all conversation. Holidayrest,the royal feast, the proudest, the grandest, the heart's gladdest, the festival which prowess, beauty, power, and poetry have ever adorned and enjoyed—it is here, that is it. These stars mark it and offer it: they gave an idea and an appeal,... to offend us, even if we don't believe it. All experience is against them, but their word is Hope, and they will always leave experience as a liar....

Yes, brilliant summoners! I accept your eternal goodness...

But in us, we sit dark or bright there in the boat, now the moon is out, she dispels the clouds and sits in her triumph so feminine and yet so majestic, so modest and yet so strong, that I don't care. I ask if she ever represents the feminine men. There is no envy, no interference with nature. Do not envy the beauty and sovereignty of the moon, stars or trees; they know how to do everything their way. As we sail swiftly and so make the moon go, Now clear through her amber vault, Now through the heaps of shadows, And now half hidden Through the plumes of oak or pine, Every moment, every aspect is sufficient and perfect; no better or worse, no interference, no preferences; but every virtuous act of man or woman blames other men and women; I'm ashamed; and each man's or woman's person as in my love different despised or preferred. Blessed is the Law. In this month, the hill, the plant, the air, obey the law, are only geometry and animated numbers; for them there is no intemperance; they were born by Law and matured and ended in beauty; but we, by the transgression of the Law, became sick and hardened.


[Here follows some phrases from the "Chaldean oracles" attributed to Zoroaster.]

Divine things are not attainable by mortals who understand the flesh; But only those who are lightly armed make it to the top.

It is not up to understanding the Intelligible with ferocity, but with the expanded flame of an expanded mind that measures all things Outside this Intelligible. But it's good to understand this. Because if you bend your mind, you'll understand. It's not serious, but it's up to you to take a clear and searching look with you; To expand your soul's empty mind into the Intelligible For it exists beyond the mind.

You won't understand how when you understand a concrete thing.

There is a certain intelligibility to be understood with the flower of the mind.

Let the immortal depth of your soul guide you.

Do not enlarge your destiny.

To each tree its leaf and fruit, and to each man; you are a spruce or an orange: but if the tree is pruned and exposed to the south wind and fertilized, it will produce a load of oranges; if it is neglected, little is bad. So it seems a greater pity, if you are a man of genius, the sweetest of all poets, to fall into a bad condition and give away a poem a year.

We are very civilized by books. In a few golden phrases we will turn and actually read a volume of four or five hundred pages. Even the great books, - "Come", they say, "we will give you the key to the world." — That's what every poet, every philosopher says, and we hope to go like a thunderbolt to the center... Heraclitus is forever justified, who called the world eternal incotia.

— The borer in our peach trees bores that it may lay an egg: but the borer in theories, institutions, and books bores that it may shine.

A man of practical or worldly power requires of a preacher a talent, a strength like his...

You dare anyone to have things as good as yours. Hafiz dares you to show it or put it in an inappropriate and ignoble state. Take what you like, and leave it just a corner of nature, an alley, a den, a stable, outside the cities, far from letters, taste and culture; he promises to conquer that despised place, the light of the moon and stars, the love of men, the smile of beauty, the respect of art. It will be painted, carved, sung, celebrated and visited by pilgrimages in all future ages.

(de G)


O— O manifold Nature, whose energy is ever changing, you throw yourself into a berry or a drop, you combine every thought in a word, every moral quality in the twinkling of an eye, but tell me, are you just a creator like bards and orators? Is your power just for show? Or can you change the shape of this pointless and unnecessary day into an hour of love and fitness? When I see what a waste of strength there is in friendship and writing and reading in modern society, it seems to me that the world exists for dilettantism.


cold,No tea! no wine! How are you better or how am I worse?

Osman.Now you are wise to me. I'm boring and you're inspired. But I know what you're saying and I'll remember that when you can't.

cold,What do you mean?

Time is my friend, not yours. Life force is more flexible than gold, and a coin you drop into a player's hand can turn into a leaf that will gild the globe.

cold,While I admit I come to eat and drink, I commend your selflessness, which I also think isdeleeutwistwhich makes kings vulgar.

It's no virtue in me, sir. My father gave me a good constitution, for which I am as grateful to the taste of fruit as you are to pears or pineapples; and my temperance cannot be more credited to me as justice than the fact that a straw hat has protected my head all these years, as well as an iron helmet. I think I'm the master of Assyrian luxury when I walk through the forest among ferns and sassafras, or step into the shelter of a flowering elderberry bush, or blacken my teeth with the betel nuts we've just picked. Something just dropped from you about fashion, which, though I didn't quite understand it, may be the same thing I've always thought: that the best teachers of elegance are the stars that shine so softly in the amber sky; and in the presence of wildflowers and birds I am ashamed to be rude in my dress or manners.

— A warm word from the heart, written or spoken,eit enriches me. I surrender to the will;...

I value my well-being too much to pay attention to it any longer. I won't draw the thinnest veil over my faults, but if you're here, you'll see me for who I am. Then you will see that although I am full of tenderness and born with as great a hunger to love and be loved as any man can be, its manifestations are not active and daring, but passive and persistent. My love does not ebb and flow, but is always present under my silence, under my dissatisfaction, under my cold, dry and even weak behavior.

I do not mean the Middle Ages, but the Chaldean, Egyptian or Teutonic Age, when man was neither rude, nor French, nor servile, but if he bowed, he bowed under the Ideas: times when the earth spoke and the skies glowed. , when men of deeds pointed out vast conceptions, and men wrote histories of the world in prison and built like Himmaleh and Alleghany ranges. I think that's what men like and expect...

People today do not believe anyone who attributes to man the attributes of a soul: even those who speak that word will hardly get attached to it, and if a man asserts this great mystery, every little scribbler in the newspaper will make big eyes and point to his own brain and says: He is mad; and it can and does happen that the man who pronounced it flees before the word of this newspaper written by some shallow boy in the dark, who wrote I don't know what, dipping his pen in the mud and darkness. And yet, night and morning, earth and sky, and the soul of man cannot be settled so easily. It is true that there is another side to man. The other side, escapes, weaknesses, that man is a moth, or a bubble, or a spider's web, they readily listen and say: but this man is necessary and eternal, they don't want to hear it. Man must reach all the way from Heaven to Earth. But is it possible for a man to survive in some other way than the prudent do not think of. It is hateful that transcendent people come to us only in dark and gloomy forms, and not like the sun and the blue sky. However, when they come, they will not be reported: they will affect people in an exhilarating and unusual way, and the last thing they will think about will be taking notes.

Age should once again seem vast, undefined, receding into the distance, still renewing itself, as the depth of the horizon appears when viewed from a hill.

You have a lot of coats in your wardrobe, because you are rich. You need a lot for your conversation; and your deed I am sincerely tired, - old, musty and stale. But Godfrey, who has only a coat on his back, has as many as nature has days or plants or transformations.


Ah, you old ghosts! You dungeon builders in the air! Why do I let you touch me for a moment; moment, to win me over to your unhappy company? There is an hour each week when I read my orders in all the codes of Nature and know that I was created for another service, a teacher of Cheerful Science, a detector and designer of hidden harmonies and unheard of beauties, a herald of civility, nobility, learning and wisdom; affirmer of the One Law, but as the one who must affirm it in music or dance. A priest of the soul, but one who would gladly celebrate it through the beauty of health and harmonious strength.

My trees teach me the value of our circumstances or limitations. I have a compost pile and it's up to me to decide whether I turn it into strawberries, peaches or carrots. I have a tree that produces these delicious golden cones called Bartlett pears, and I have a strong common sense plant called potatoes. The pear tree is indeed an excellent genius, but with all that wonderful constructive power it has, of turning the air and the dust, yea, the very dung, into Hesperian fruit, it will very easily wither and yield nothing, if I starve it, der without exposure to the south and without protected neighborhood of other trees. How is it different from a planter? He may also have a rare constructive power to create poems, characters or nations, perhaps, but though his power is new and unique, if he be deprived of his necessary influences, if he has no love, no book, no criticism, no external invitation, no need or market for this skill of his, so he could sleep through his dwarven years and eventually die fruitless.

Colombe prefers to take Edmund Hosmer's job, "because the days are so long".


If I were a preacher I would take Lydian's remark of today directly to the church, that "the piety in her help was more a hindrance than any other fault. The girls who are not godly she thinks kind and sensible, but the members of the church are scorpions, too religious to do their duties, and full of anger and horror at her if she does.”

Every man has had a moment or two of extraordinary experience, found his soul, thought of something he has never forgotten, which has revised all his speech and molded all his ways of thinking.

I resent this interference of alterity. What gets done, and what gets done, somehow, I know, is part of me. The Unconscious works with the Conscious, - it says something I have consciously learned to listen to. What I am was secretly transmitted from me to another as I tried in vain to tell him. He heard from me what I never said.

If I must or could record the true experience of my later years, I would have to say that I was sneaking around and playing the naughty, innocent, subservient role most of the time. Things must be done for which I have no skill, or to be said what others can say better, and I lie down, or occupy my hands with what is but an excuse for idleness, until my time comes again.

But woe to the one who always succeeds, who still says the best word and does the nicest thing, for that man has no heavenly moment.

I also find an analogy in Asian phrases with this fact of life. The oriental genius does not have a dramatic or epic touch, but ethical, contemplative, appreciating the Zoroastrian oracles, the Vedas, Menu and Confucius. These all-encompassing apothegms are like these profound moments of heavenly life.

Lidian says the only sin people never forgive each other is difference of opinion.

Carlyle, with his inimitable ways of expressing things, is next to the inventor of things. “I, King Saib, built this pyramid. When I built it, I covered it with satin. Whoever follows me and says he is like me, let him be covered with mats.”

[During this year, Mr. Emerson evidently diminished, though the hours he spent in the garden with his friend Henry Thoreau, and the change in the lonely inn at Nantasket Beach, where he went to write his "Address in Waterville," were important. In Memoirs of Emerson, by Mr. Cabot, he gives several letters written from Nantasket to Mr.


You must not passionately love beautiful objects: you will not love them if they are beautiful. Anyone who falls in love with a statue, a painting, a melody or even the stars and the sea finds in them some contrast with his own life. His own life is ugly and he sickly prefers some kind of marble Antinous or Cupid to the living images of his father and mother and entire cities of his countrymen who live around him. But when man's life is in harmony with nature, he will look upon all that is most beautiful in the universe with unsurprising brotherhood.

(From a free sheet)

[The following, though undated, was apparently written in July in Nantasket.]

We have two needs, Being and Organization. See how much effort we spend here in Plato's dialogues to organize A Fact in two, three or four steps, and renew as many times as we can the pleasure, the eternal surprise of arriving at the last fact, as children run up the stairs, jump, or go down the stairs. uphill on a sled, or running a long way past a slide, or when we take our gear and walk many miles to a spot of water to catch a fish, and after catching one and learning all the mystery, we still repeat the process to the same result , although the fish may eventually be thrown into the sea. The merchant plays the same game in 'Change, the lover of cards in the whistle, - and what else does the scholar do? He knows how poetry will work, he knows how a novel or a demo will work in it - no new results, but it is the oldest of all, but he still yearns for a new book and finally bathes himself again with immersion. The young people here this morning, having tried all six or seven things to be done, viz. the sailing, the bowling alley, the way to Hull and Cohasset, the bath and the binoculars, they are furious now. to do something: those itchy fingers, that short activity, those nerves, that plasticity or creativity follow forever and ever the Deep Being.

And yet the secret is kept.

Only Plato knows that we can do without Plato. It costs me nothing to be. For that I don't need to be rich, or pay taxes, or leave home, or buy books. Organizing is what it takes. And the moment I despise the city and the coast, yes, the earth and the galaxy too.

"When nature is abandoned by its master, however great it may be, it does not survive." —VEESHNOO SARMA.

Very weak impressions of our senses fall on us to make us artists. Every touch must enchant: now it's good for life, not for poetry. It seems like every man should be an artist who can talk about what happened to him.

Aristotle defined space as a certain immovable container in which things are contained.

All sensual pleasure is private and mortal: all spiritual action is public and generative.

The church airs my good neighbors and serves them as an ablution somewhat stricter and finer than a clean shirt, a bath or wash. The minister is a clerk and the meeting place is a clerk: they are one, and when they spend the whole week in private and selfish pursuits, Sunday reminds them of the necessity of placing themselves again in social, public, and ideal relations. out of the neighborhood, - higher than the city meeting - to his fellows. They are married, and the minister representing this high public celebrates the fact; his son was baptized and they were published again through his intervention. A member of his family dies, he returns, and the family publicly goes up to the church to be heralded or worshiped in this official favor of mankind. It's okay as far as that is concerned. It is the worship of the Ideal Church, which they have not: which the real Church so basely misrepresents. But better that way than nothing. These people have no fine arts, no literature, no great men to boswellize, no good speculations to amuse their family committee or their solitary work. Their talk is of oxen, pigs, hay, corn, and apples. Whatever liberal aspirations they had at any given time, whatever spiritual experiences they had, they looked like that, and the Church is their suit for such things. It is not discredited in their eyes as books, lectures or living men of genius. For them it is still a recognized symbol of the religious idea. The church does not need to be defended against any spiritualists who call for its reform, but against those who say it should be closed and there is nothing so much to be said. It stands in the history of the present time as a secondary school for the civility and wisdom of men (perhaps I should prefer the Church of England or Rome as the medium of those higher washings described above, only I think that the Unitarian Church, like the Lyceum , an organ still open and optional, of free admission to the services of any inspired person who passes through there: while other churches are committed and will exclude him.)

I should add that although this is a real representation of the cult of farmers and peasants, it is not known to them, it is only felt. Don't you think it's of some use to a young farmer who comes from the New Hampshire woods to Boston and apprentices in a trade, and now sets up his own shop, to hang his name in glittering letters of gold for a long time? His father did not know how to write his name: only lately did he know: the name is evil and unknown: now the sun shines on him: all men, all women, the most beautiful eyes read him. This is true in a big city. He may succeed in making it wider: he will make it too light for his child. Your child may be a party leader: a state governor: a poet: a mighty thinker: and send the knowledge of that name across the habitable earth. According to all these suggestions, he is at the very least responsible and considerate of this public relationship with a visible and airy name.

Let him humbly accept the suggestions of a better life that he finds; how to handle a few things that are easily obtained: but let him seize the opportunity with enthusiasm to do what he can, for virtues are natural to every man and talents are small perfections.

Let him wait endlessly with patience as big as the sky.

Nothing is as young and uneducated as time.

Cities of people are like a constant line of shells on the beach.

This world is a palace whose walls are lined with mirrors.

[Of Preacher.he stayed at it, as long as he could, for an hour and a half.

The common man, leaving the eaves of his house, abandoned the moral law and the gods. In Paris, in New Orleans, he satisfies his appetite.

Whig theory, which was carried out, required the government to be paternalistic and teach Paddy where the land was and how to farm it so he could get his bread. But current governments are reckless. A priest who fights for principle, a high and pure self, has none of this tenderness for individuals.

Don't waste yourself on rejection; do not bark at evil, but sing the beauty of good. I just like to get close to people. What good is any conversation if not honest conversation? Reveal your face, reveal your heart to me, be who you may be, and our purpose will be fulfilled for both of us. We can play together, eat, swim, travel or work together, if that's the result: otherwise, everything we've achieved together is nothing. Are simple businesses the pinnacle of human well-being? What joy and independence result from this! So I didn't waste a day: so I didn't live in vain. To be a lover with a lover, to be a god with a god, seems to be just this happiness, nothing more, that is, to be truer: with a broader and deeper Yes and No. Is this also happiness, happiness, which comes by the grace of God, and cannot be encompassed by any effort or genius, when it does not descend upon us as beauty or light? I cannot establish this with everyone, or with most, or with many; then could he be happy with all: no, but only with some.

I think the real and spiritual journey is to play all the stations on our instrument. If I had good anger and good forbearance towards my brother, if I had respect and compassion, had good weather and luck in my fishing, and thought deeply about my home-study, survived the disaster well, and worked well in my garden, neither could my part in the feast, so I traveled, though all was within a mile of my house. Taming consists in the unique art of living in fact, not in appearance. Anyone who has learned to root himself in being and completely stop pretending to be a native is in the bosom of Nature. He must be supported by the feeling that he has worked, otherwise nothing can cheer him up.

the facts.Everything is for you; but from that comes the inconvenience that everything is against you that you don't do yours. Victory over things is man's lot; of course, until that happens, it's war and an insult to things around you. He can have as much time as he likes, as long as he likes being cowardly and disgraced, as long as he puts off the fight, but there's no escaping the alternative. Maybe I don't read Schleiermacher or Plato, maybe I even rejoice that Germany and Greece are too far apart in time and space to insult me ​​for my ignorance of their works, maybe I even have a secret joy that heroes and giants of the intellectuals at work are, say, the same Plato and the Schleiermachers are dead, and they cannot mock me with a look: my soul knows better: they are not dead, for the nature of things is alive, and this conveys its fatal word to me that these men will still find me and judge me still rare line by line, fact after fact, with all my dismay.

All that matters in man are the news he gives us of our own capacity through the new conditions in which he displays the common soul. I would know how calm, how majestic, how playful, how helpful I could be.

However, we are concerned with individuals, not with the universality of residues. Everywhere is the same ocean... So Dante or Plato can invite the people around him to listen to what the Mind would say about those details he found in their personalities.

Lobster car, boat or fish basket,

Peeps, noddies, old-squaws ou codornizes, -

To Musketaquid of Nantasket,

What sign of greeting and salutation?

We cannot send you our thunder,

The pulsation of the sea on the shore,

Not even our rainbow, daughter of wonders,

Not even our stone, the front door of New England.

Nantasket beach white pebbles

Where to write the maiden name,

Shells, sea eggs, sea flowers - they could teach

O beautiful paradises whence they came!

Should I write an honesty or two? "I, who never write anything but boredom?" And yet, in all truth, a new morning dawned at noon. But I will say that I don't think a single person I know could afford to live together on their own merits. Some of us, or of them, can live together much better than others, but not because of their power to command respect, but because of their easy and genial ways: that is, they can live together through their weakness and inferiority.

Realize that the story of modern improvements is only good to boast about for the twelve, twenty, or two hundred who made them, not for those who adopted them and told Me. The slightest hint of moral strength in anyone defies all Quincy Hall models. The inventor may indeed present his model as a sign of some kind of moral force, but not the user.

I need to find just one nice person, boy, man or woman to make my journey happy. But of late I have had the misfortune to meet young men with a certain insolence on their brows, who speak and respond with this insulting assumption, that what I say I say to fill the time, and not that I want to say something. Not so with that handsome and noble boy, whom I saw at Nantasket, and whom all good diviners tend to!

Ascending souls chant pæan. We will not encourage but study the natural history of souls and congratulate each other on amazing harmonies.

Rich, you say? You're rich? how rich rich enough to help someone? rich enough to help the friendless, unfashionable, eccentric, rich enough to make the Canadian on his wagon, the itinerant beggar with his written paper recommending him to a charity, the Italian foreigner with his few broken words in English, the lame, ugly beggar pursued by overseers from town to town, even a poor man or woman crazed or half-mad, feels the noble exception of his presence and his house, of the general darkness and stone; that such people feel that they have been greeted by a voice that compelled them to remember and hope? What's vulgar than refusing a request? What's kinder than allowing?

He is very young in his education and needs respectable people to see great qualities. If there is greatness in you, you will find greatness in workers and washerwomen. And very fine relations are always established between the clear spirit and all observers. Think there's only your dollar between you and your landlord or dealer? Did they not differentiate their customers or guests?

Be calm, sit quietly in your chair, even if the company is boring and undignified. you are not there, then there is the assembly of your friends; because subtle influences always come to you from them, and you represent them, don't you? for everyone here.

It is not a word that "I am a gentleman and the king is gone," but this is a fact expressed in all the passages between the king and the gentleman.

With our belief that every man is a possessed person with that wonderful Prompter in his ear, isn't it a little redundant to talk to a person so advised?

We treat you like a squadron.

People expect the world to fall into their mouths like a peach.

I would like to see a child going to school or a boy carrying a basket without envy, but now I am so idle that everyone is ashamed of me.

Trophies.The metamorphosis of Nature shows itself only in this, that there is no word in our language which cannot become typical of Nature for us, giving emphasis to it. The world is a dancer; it is a rosary; it is a torrent; it is the Boat; mist; spider trap; And what do you want; and the metaphor will hold, and give the imagination keen pleasure. Faster than light, the world transforms into whatever you name it, and all things find their rightful place under this whimsical new classification. There is nothing small or bad for the soul. It derives from the great joy symbolizing the Deity or his universe in the form of a moth or mosquito as the Lord of Hosts. Shall I call heaven and earth a Maypole and a country fair with stalls, or an anthill, or an old coat, to give you the jolt of pleasure which the imagination loves, and the sense of spiritual grandeur? Call it a flower, a stick, a parsley wreath, a tamarisk wreath, a rooster, a sparrow, the ear immediately hears it, and the spirit leaps to the trope.

The doctrine of Necessity or Destiny is the doctrine of Tolerance, but every moment, while we think of that person who offends us that he was set up by the devil and we are going to pity him, it comes to our sensibility to convince ourselves that that person is the devil. , then the poison works, the devil jumps on our neck, and again wild on the other: he jumps from neck to neck, and the kingdom of hells comes.

OWhat is the reason for this extreme attraction people have for us, other than being from the Era? Well, now we have some good numbers in a big group and many that promise to do well. I think the nobility of a company or period should always be judged by the depth of the ideas. Here is a great variety and great wealth of mysticism... But how many mysticisms of alchemy, magic, second sight and the like can a great genius like Leibnitz, Newton or Milton have among his brilliant pieces and never be worse?

A colorful montage on the planet; there is no conspiracy like in an anthill. Everyone is doing their own shit to ruin others no matter what they don't care. In perspective, one can find symmetry and unconscious progression....

As soon as a man lowers his suction hose to a great depth, he does not belong to any age, but he is an eternal man. And as soon as there is an elevation of thought, we leave the Times.

I will add to the portrait of Osman that success never stopped him: he never had to pay attention to his fame and his praise, applause and publications. Shall I not say very mildly that one of the wisest men I ever knew was one who began life a fool, at least with an established reputation for recklessness?

"To me, men are what they are,

They don't wear masks for me."

When I was praised, I wasted time, because I immediately turned to look at the work I had been thinking about for some time and did nothing new that day.

Dispersion of funeral eulogies, dispersion of newspapers and night parties.

The blue sky in the background forms a beautiful building.

Ideal.I think there are better things that can be said for the conservative side than have been said so far. Certainlyspaceproving something impressive and magnificent must be with the idealist. His flaws are the strength of a worldly man.

Nothing but God can eradicate God. The whole dispute between the Present and the Past is between Deity entering and Deity leaving. Napoleon said that he had always observed that Providence favored the heaviest battalion.

optimistsElizabeth Hoar says that good young people pluck all their flowers and leave none to ripen and bear fruit. So we have beautiful lyrics and an overly imaginative and intellectual period, but we don't have a deep, well-adjusted character.

Studious.We all know enough to be endless writers. The best writers were not those who knew the most, but those for whom writing was natural and necessary.

Let's answer the ink book with a book of flesh and blood.

All writing comes by the grace of God.

TypeI don't want to seem sometimes big, sometimes small, but to be starry and unaltered light.

Superlative.Bigger brain, more space. It is a small mind that is always in extremes and sees no alternative but joy or a dagger.

Scale.We are each other's results. As your perception or sensibility is sublime, you see the genesis of my actions and my thoughts, you see me in my debts and sources, and in your eyes, instead of a small lake of the water of life, I am a river fed by rivers from all plains and heights of nature and antiquity and tracing remote origins from the foundation of all things.


Moderation is a virtue that society always cherishes and it is difficult to justify the lack of it...

Society can appreciate the measure, because all its law and order is nothing more than that. There is a struggle of opposing instincts and a golden mean, that's right. What is the argument for marriage if not this? What for the church, state or any existing institution, but just that - Shall we have a means?

Genius gets in the way of everything. It is established (is it?) that after reaching the reflective age, a completely rustic and united man cannot be born. Yes, fully fixed. Ah, that unhappy Shakespeare! and ah, that hybrid Goethe! Make a new rule, my dear, all right? and tomorrow the Genie will trample him with his stellar sandal.

"Then it is very easy to write as Mr. Pericles writes. Well, I have read the books he read before he wrote his Dialogue, and I have found him in all of them, and I know where he got the things you most admire. Yes, the turnips also grow in the same soil as strawberries; it knows all the food it gets and eats the same; it's still a turnip still.

All histories, all times, equally furnish examples of spiritual economy; so do all kitchens and chicken coops. But then I can choose to use the ones that are well written. For a philosopher the Polish annals would be as good as the Greek ones, but the latter are well compiled.

Portability.The more perverse the spiritual law, the sharper and more enduring it is in men's memory, just as we value more the smallest case or box in which any necessary utensil can be carried.

A telescope is a screen: that's all. "And when Adam heard the voice of the Lord God in the garden, he hid himself."

"Don't forget to be sober andto do to be had at your disposal to do to believe;for these are the sinews of wisdom." The reformer asserts the tendency, the law. Ordinary people show great cunning in citing exceptions. He does not bother to answer them, or to show that they are only exceptions. It is enough for him that he has a lawyer on their conscience and the enactment of the law They should, instead of complaining, arm their arms, thank him in the name of mankind, see that he is the friend of mankind against their foolish quarrel.

Funny.I'm tired of dealing with people, each in their own madness. This is an excellent person with wonderful gifts, but as crazy as the others, and even crazier, and because of her great temper, which she can use as a weapon, she is more difficult to deal with. I would be happy to stand in relation to the benefactor as a screen and defense, so that he has some advantage and on my own terms - so that his madness does not bother me. I well know that this desire is not great, but small, it is a mere excuse for not treating you honestly and manfully: but I am not a man big enough to treat you as firmly and unsympathetically as a patient, and, if he is treated equally and sympathized with the healthy, his disease makes him the worst of the fools.

Quarrels are not created by themselves, but only by character growth that undermines their place and memory. We shape new ideas in life, new relationships with all people; we become new people and we don't inherit the wars or friendships of the person we were.

"If the misunderstanding could be resolved, it would not exist," added L.

Nature is a very fine canvas: the glory of the One breaks out everywhere.

I remember when I was a kid on the bench on Sundays having fun saying the common words "nigger",


"board," etc., twenty or thirty times, until the word lost all meaning and permanence, and I began to doubt what was the proper name for the thing, when I saw that none of them had a natural relation, but were all arbitrary. It was the child's first lesson in idealism.


How noble in secret are people who have never compromised or betrayed their faith! Two or three rusty, perhaps weary souls, who could never be brought into the least harmony with society, stand majestically in the background like statues of gods, while we in the dusty throng listen to the ingenious flattery and literary politics of those who curve small. If they also bent a little, then, if we did not have an example, then all our ideas would be dissatisfied: we were alone with the mind. Hours of solitary confinement - who are your favorites? Who cares about summer fruits, sopsavines that ripen early with the help of worms in the core? Give me a winter apple, a russettine and a pippin, cured and sweetened by all the year's heat and frost.

As for H - I suppose we all feel equally that we care very little what he says, as long as he says it well. What he establishes today with so much ingenuity, we know he will overthrow tomorrow with equal ingenuity, not valuing any position or any principle, but only the tactics or the method of struggle. Intellectual play is your delight', the question is indifferent. He is a warrior, so only if there is a war, he is not scrupulous on which side his help is sought. There was an all-out attack on his speech, a chivalry all over the field, but he cut it all off so quickly and so willingly that he left no ground to stand on; a universal charge, but without power of withdrawal or resistance in it, so that we agree that it was a triumphant success for his troop, but without frankness, destruction, and homelessness. It was the depth of superficiality that seemed the most universal and the most victorious. A sentence that began with an attack on the Conservatives ended with a blow on the Reformers: the first clause was applauded by one side, and the other retaliated and applauded before the end of the period.

It cannot be denied that a devout young man begging in his closet for some gross and gross reform, such as anti-slavery or abstinence from animal food, exposes himself to the witty attacks of the intellectual man; it is partial; and fit to enlarge his own: yea, and the lying penitent too, he is not comprehensive, he is not philosophical in these tears and sobs. Yet I feel that beneath him and his partiality and exclusiveness is the land and the sea and all that is in them, and the axis around which the eternal universe revolves passes through his body where he is, while the outcast that affects the pity of his narrowness and chains is a wanderer, free as the unloved and the unwilling are free and independent of the state, as singles and beggars are homeless, homeless, useless. The heart finds out at once, whether the head knows it or not, whether you exist to show off or whether the full power of God holds you by where you are and what you do. This abuse of the conservative to win the reformer and the abuse of the reformer to win the conservative may fool the head but not the heart. The heart knows that it was the fear and love of Beacon Street that caught this bottle-green fly, and that only the love and terror of the Eternal God bring forth the Angel they are waiting for.

There is no depth of intellectual satisfaction that such speculation provides. But leave one of those loving men out there in the shadows whom you make likable, and you will immediately feel how superficial all this fun has been, for he will show his affection as much as his thoughts and confront you with realities. who analyze heaven and hell.

I said a long time ago that I got every inch of my merit and was sad that my success was more than I deserved - sad that others had less. Now the beam shakes and I look with a little bitterness at the pretensions I can make about wealth and the inevitable meanness with which they will be answered.

Robin went to his uncle's house, who was a priest, to help him look after his private scholars. The boys were close or close to his age and they played together on the ice and in the field. One day Uncle was gone all day and the lady they were staying with called Robin to say thanks at dinner. Robin was running out; he laughed, got serious, said something, who knows what, and then laughed again, as if he wanted to make it up to the boys for having become men at some point. And yet, at home, Robin may have been begging for dinner frequently.

The woman we talk about today and who finds beauty in every housework is right. And why not beauty in Sunday church? I'm not surprised that people like to go there. I'm interested in every shoe that goes to the venue.

Yes, love frees us from all timidity and superstitious fears by the safest and most mutual guessing of each other: so that it is suicidal insofar as it can do without interviews, for which it existed.

[Here follows much of what was printed in "Manners"[Essay,Second Serie).]

to likeit is a counterweight to all artificial and superficial differences. Let the man sober up and shame the whole court, the whole city that is not like that. You don't care about society and you put it in your pocket.

I saw a young man who had a rare gift of eloquence for the pulpit: his whole constitution seemed to qualify him for the office, and the sight and hearing of him produced an effect like the sound of music: not what he said, but the pleasure the outpouring of the man's spirit through his phrases and gestures suggested a thousand things, and I liked it as I do painting or poetry, and I said to myself, here is creation again. I was moved and frightened by my numbness and unbelief, and I wanted to go out and talk and write all the things. After a few months, I heard the young favorite speak again. Maybe I was judgmental, maybe he was cold. But I thought that too much praise hurt him, that it gave his moving gesture the least possible fixity; a deft return to his heated rhetoric. It was later in the season, but the plant was still in full bloom and there was no sign of fruit. Could the flowers be sterile or was the plant artificially stimulated to turn all the leaves and buds into flowers? We like single young men and women, but not old single men and women. It seemed to me that I had seen before an example of the finest grace of youthful eloquence, hardened by the habit of harangue, in grimaces. It seemed that, instead of the security of a crowd of admirers, the young man was sure every Sunday that if he spoke to hunger and debt, to lonely women and poor children, to sadness and to the friends of some sick or insane person, or criminal, would cut off some of these superfluous flowers and give us with all the others one or two simple and portable suggestions. Praise is not as safe as severe demands, and of all teachers of eloquence the best is the man's own regret and shame.

There are some public figures born not for privacy but for publicity, who are dull and even silly, but the moment they are called upon to preside, the form expands, senatorial teeth show, the eye shines, a certain majesty sits down. if on the shoulders and they have a wit and happy release that you never should have found in them in the closet.


I don't know why Landor would have so few readers. His book strikes me as original in its form as in its content. He has neither dramatic nor epic power, but he makes phrases that, although they are not gravity and electricity, are still vegetation. Even after twenty years, I read with pleasure their unusual dialogues, not just sentences, but, page after page, the whole discussion...

I appreciate a book that, like this one or Montaigne, proves the existence of the literary world. What endless leisure, what original jurisdiction, what new heavens and a new earth! The old constellations set, new and brighter ones appeared: we ate the lotus, we tasted the nectar. Oh, that sleep could last! There is no man in this age who so truly belongs to this dispensation as Landor. It seems like a luxury for the performer; Well, when he fully sees his new views, when he sees how he can fix the old house, let's stop this fun. Until then, leave us the land where Horace and Ovid, Erasmus and Scaliger, Isaac Walton and Ben Jonson, Dryden and Pope lived all along.

"In the evening we came to a country

Where it always seemed late.”

But consider, O Reformers, before you condemn the Hall of Fame and the country whose intoxications were felt by Homer and Milton, Plato and Shakespeare, that the shadow of uncertainty still hangs over all that is real. Sadly, I must suggest to you that poverty is not a singular good; that work can easily overtake. The children of the rich have finer forms and, in some respects, better organization than the children of workers. The Irish population in our towns is the hardest working, but neither the most moral nor the most intelligent: the experience of Brook Farm colleagues was unanimous: "We have no thoughts."

Those who serve others will be served by others; he who serves all will be served by all.

When we quarrel, oh so we wish we had always kept our appetites in check, that we could speak with such coolness and majesty of unquestioned heights of character.

For that eu BrancoSibyl treats every man with some art, flatters him, respects popular prejudices, accuses rum and slavery, so she seems cunning. The little boy who walks with me in the woods is meaningless in his questions, the question that arises in his mind he articulates to me-above him, above me-we exist in an element of wonder and solitude. Not all children act like this. Some have deceit under their tongue before they can speak plainly. But the artist's art, how does it differ from the art of sin? And he has a plan about us, but it's not for his benefit, but for ours. What first enchanted him, and what still enchants him, he tries to convey, that it may have a legitimate effect on us. It's still worship.

Well for us, we can't apologize well. If I were that skilled, I would spend a lot of time on this. Being incapable, I leave it to nature, which does it best; Meanwhile, I'm doing something new, which is the crowning glory of an apology.

Cal.We inadvertently embellish all stories, facts and people. There is no emphasis on Nature. By separating and reciting a fact, we already add emphasis to it and begin to leave a false impression, which is inflamed by a new point being made each time it is said. All people exist in society because of some great quality of beauty or usefulness that they possess. We borrow the man's proportions from that single feature we see, and finish the portrait symmetrically, which is false; because the rest of the body is small or misshapen.

concordI had the opportunity, in 1835, to investigate the facts that occurred on April 19, 1775. Dr. Ripley took me to Abel Davis, Jonas Buttrick and Master Blood. The Doctor had in mind what he wanted them to witness and forced, where he could, their consent to his prewritten History. I, who had no theory, longed to reach their memories, but I could learn little. Blood apparently felt that no great courage was shown except by a few. I suppose we know how brave they were, considering how the current inhabitants would behave in such an emergency. No story is true except the one that is always true. Of course there's little of ittwo seated you o morningwhich Napoleon said few possessed.

These thoughts which the Universe celebrates are, no doubt, as readily and fully indicated in the nature and habits of animals and plants as in men. The words dog, snake and crocodile are very meaningful to us.

In Cambridge last Wednesday I met twenty of my class and spent the day with them. Governor Kent of Maine, Upham, Quincy, Lowell, Gardner, Loring, Gorham, Motte, Wood, Blood, Cheney, Withington, Bulfinch, Reed, Burton, Stetson, Lane, Angier, Hilliard, Farnsworth, Dexter, Emerson presided. It was strange how quickly the company reverted to its old relationship, and the whole mass of college nonsense resurfaced. They all got along perfectly, they were a single unit during the day - people who now never meet. Each returned to its former place. The change in them was very little indeed in twenty years, even though all the men present were married and all but one father. I, too, returned to my old place and saw myself as a spectator, not a friend. I drank a lot of wine (for me) with the desire to raise my mood to the level of good company, but the wine had its old effect on me and with each glass I grew more and more serious. Bitterness and eloquence will excite me, but wine will not.

A poor man came for whom luck was not on his side, and we wore a hat and raised him a hundred and fifteen dollars in two minutes.

Almost all were successful people, but there was something sad and touching about their well-being. It was all too easy to see that everyone owed their success to some quality or talent that was not supported by their other qualities. There is no symmetry in great men of the first or tenth class. Often the division of talent is very small. A man can pronounce well; the other has a bell voice and a "high tone". Edward Everett's fine speech and rhetoric were preferred by the stupid. I remember Charles Jarvis in my class who said “he didn't care about the subject; you would hear him teaching Hebrew or Persian."

There is that satisfaction in a class reunion. Each was carefully measured and known by the other as a boy, and they are not to be imposed by circumstances and later acquisitions. One is a state governor, one is a college president, one is a Senate president, two or three are bank presidents. They moved from New Hampshire or Massachusetts or Vermont into their home state. Well, these are all imposing facts in the new neighborhood, in the imagination of the young people among whom they appear; but not for us. When they come into the presence of any one of their former companions, all disguise disappears, and boy meets boy as of old. This was ludicrously illustrated in a good story Wood told us about his visit to Moody in his office among his clients in Bangor. "How are you, Moody?" with a pat on the back. — "How are you, sir?" with a civilized but formal vision and reverence. “Sir, you have the advantage over me.” — “Yes, and I intend to keep it. But I'm in no hurry. Get on with your work. I'm going to sit here and look at this paper until your client leaves. M. looked up from time to time from his servant and from his servant, but he could not remember the stranger. They were alone for a while. "Well," said Wood, "and you didn't find me out?" exclaimed Moody, in the longest accent, "it's Wood!"

What do you owe me - you will change the expression - but I will still recognize my thought. But what you say of the same idea, will have for me also the unforeseen expected that belongs to every new work of Nature.

With us, only the face is very much alive: the trunk and limbs have an inferior and secondary life, they seem to be just the supports of the head. The head is finished, the body is just blocked. Here and there among the southerners we see a body also alive, like that of the young Eustis. It is the same with our manners and writing.

A pretty woman changes her dress according to her mood, for our lovely Walden Pond wears a new mood every time I see him, and they are all so beautiful that none can be preferred to me. But there must be a correspondence between the mood and the dress. Beautiful things are wasted and forgotten if there is no vacation in sight.

Trophies.Every gardener can turn his flowers and leaves into fruit, and so the genius who today can turn, balance, and throw every object in nature to his metaphor, is able in his next manifestation to play such a game with his hands instead of his brain. An instinctive suspicion seems to have arisen in people's minds that this could happen. What would happen to us who live on the surface if this man in some new transmigration gained the power to do what he is now happy to say? He must be watched.

For me, what I might call Montaigne's autumnal style retains all of its old appeal.

You can use your reading in conversation, but your writing should stop with your own thoughts.

The whole story of Sparta looks like a picture or a text of self-confidence.

Waldo's diplomacy in explaining Ellen's loud crying says that she put her foot in his sand house and was pushed.

Democracy.Gaius Gracchus, says Plutarch, was the first among the Romans to address the people from the face of the senate, as was customary, and to address the Forum.

Cow mooing like a trumpet - what does that say about me? Not according to my understanding. No. However, to some extent, he listens to and likes me a lot. I am happy to have guests who can entertain each other, and if I cannot find another guest in our narrow village to keep the first one in play, then I would have pictures, statues, an observatory and telescope, a garden - more or less as much as it can bear the brunt of a stranger's arrival and allow me to play another role and be a guest in my own home. But when a friend comes over, the smallest closet in my house is big enough for our party.

Is not pedantry defined, the transfer of language from one area of ​​thought or action to another area, not in the form of rhetoric, but by a fanatical belief that it is intrinsically preferable? I remember a remark of Coleridge's which amounts to this. I can easily see that the spirit of life finds equal exercise in war, chemistry or poetry. I see the law of nature displayed equally in the bar and in the philosopher's room. I receive the instructions and opportunities of my genius indifferently in all places, companies and businesses, as long as there is antagonism. However, the greatest practical inconvenience would be if, since the same law appears indifferently in everyone, we were to unite the philosophers of the bar and the salon. Like to like.

[Most of the material printed on the first two pages of the second “Characters” series goes here.]

to likeit is that reserved force that acts only by visible or analytical methods, but not visible. Samuel Hoar achieves everything with this weapon, neither talent, nor eloquence, nor magnetism. We feel that most of man was never started. Since modern warfare is a war of positions, not battles, these victories are the result of superiority, not conflict.

If one were to go to State Street or to places much lower, one would find that the battle there is being fought and won by the same great agents...

Lord Bacon's method in his books is about understanding, but his sentences are lit with ideas.

Burns' fame is also too great to be fact.

lotus eaters.I don't think there is an epicurean more abandoned or addicted to opium than I am. I'm tasting every hour these autumn days. Every light in heaven, every shadow on earth, serves my pleasure. I love this gas. I complain about moving or trying or changing a book or a will, so as not to disturb the sweet dream.

Our people are easily pleased, but I wonder how rare is any deviation from routine... If Mr.

Timing is everything. Boys like to have peaches once a season and that is enough for them; or plums, or cherries. We like to be rested; we like to be completely tired with jobs; I sit on a rock and look at the lake and feel that I can afford to die enjoying such vast and magnificent nature, but previous generations have not completely lost their efforts. "In the heat of battle, Pericles smiled at me and moved to another squadron."

I find several passages of my biography remarkable. But the current state of mind selects for these anecdotes, and the selection characterizes the state of mind. All passages will be extracted in order.

dr. Osgood said about P's sermon that it was a hamburger bun.

In the story, the soul expands, huge, eccentric and does not allow hasty inductions. The men who exhibit the strength of moral sentiments and genius are not normal and canonical men, but savages and Ismailists - Cromwells, Napoleons, Shakespeares and others.

beautiful doctrine oravailabilitywho gave the Whig party John Tyler for president is meddling in the politics of every parish and school district.

In Plutarch's Life of Demosthenes, the philosopher is quoted as saying that an idea runs through all his speeches, that virtue guarantees its own success.

failures of MorallyI, credulously, listened to his common sense, and wondered what was life, whose ornaments were so dear: and returning again, he no longer lived there: he was now a merchant like other merchants, and recognized my face by patronage and pity. .

Boys' fantasies exceed man's fruits a hundredfold.


A poet is very rare. The other day I spoke to Ellery's ambition and said: Imagine that in so many millions there is not one more whose thought can be turned to music. Won't you do what you were made to do?... But Ellery, though he has a good eye and a poetry that is like a fine nerve that communicates emotion, is still a very imperfect artist and, as it now appears, will never finish anything. . He doesn't even like to distinguish what is good from what is not, in his verses he wants everything to go well, — like the best, — and seeks inspiration for the worst verses. But he is very good company, with his good taste and his cold, hard, sensitive demeanor, and yet with the ability to melt into emotion or rouse into the most sincere joy. It doesn't sound like he's talking about politics, knives and forks or polished floors, if you will; in fact, the conversation always starts low and, at the slightest pause or excess in the high keys, immediately reverts to the weather report, the Concord reading room, and Mr. Rice. Every once in a while something pops up that makes you stop and think. First, I wonder if it's real or just a fleeting shadow of a thought, uttered before it's half realized; so if it sometimes seems, as it happens, that there is in him a wonderful respect for the mere moods of the mind, for very gentle and delicate ways of conduct, then I am tempted to ask whether the poet will not be very dear to man; a man can pay such costly self-sacrifice and subtlety to a poet. But feeling for him, like his poetry, runs in his veins, and he is, for the most part, a very ordinary and difficult person to learn.

(de G)


Elizabeth rightly says that we do not like to hear our authors criticized, as we love them as much for their sympathy as for their reason, and we do not want their enemies to put reason into their mouths. That's a big criticism and I'll write it in my article.


O OIt's a lot to write sentences: it's more to add a method and symmetrically write the spirit of your life. Of all people who read and discuss good books, most are content to say, I was glad; or I was dissatisfied; made me active or inactive; and seldom does anyone eliminate and express the peculiar quality of that life which the book has awakened in him. General reflection is so rare. But to arrange many general reflections in their natural order so that I have a homogeneous piece a and aimaginary,one one oneSummer Solstice-night They are,— this continuity is for the big ones. Wonderful people are wonderful here. The observations that Pythagoras made about sound and music are not in themselves extraordinarily insightful; but he goes on: he adds fact to fact, he takes two steps, three or even four, and each further step counts a thousand years to his glory.


Osman said that Satan entered the blueberries when he went to pick the berries and made him eat the belly, but when he got to the water source, he washed his hands and mouth and promised himself not to eat any more. At the same moment, the devil would come to him again in the form of berries bigger and more beautiful than any he had encountered so far, and if he passed by them, he would bring berries, and if that didn't work, then grapes. He said, of one thing he was sure, that wisdom and fruit grow on the same bush, but only one can be plucked at a time.

optimistsSir, Heavenborn said, the amount of work you put into this piece is disgraceful. As for me, not even my activity will harm my feelings. I'm going to sit in that corner and disappear unless the universe tells me to get up and work.

And what happened to the Heavenborn? What a pragmatic question! Nothing to say: however, I suppose that the new spirit that moves this group of young philosophers, and perhaps the good weather at this time of day, this sullen autumn air, may be part of their work, as it is now, as we say, dead.

Osman.Our low and flat experiences have no right to speak of what is sacred. Out of true respect, and that's all the good we have left, we don't recognize the existence of God and Nature, but we do everything to exterminate them from the category of being. If I improve, I'll make them available to you.

But I sympathize with all the sad angels that on this planet of ours knock and cry, Oh, for something worth doing!...

Life. Osman.We are all very close to exaltation. As one step freed Wordsworth's hermit in the mountains from the dazzling mist, and brought him to a vision of "Glory above all glory that was ever seen," so are all close to the vision of which Homer and Shakespeare are but hints and types, but we cannot yet take that step. It doesn't seem worth worrying about something so insignificant as the ability to do one of the small enterprises we so glorify, when the dream will soon dissipate and we will burst into universal power. The reason for all laziness and all crimes is the same. While we wait, we pass the time, some with jokes, some with sleep, some with food, some with crimes.

It is pedantic to attach so much importance to property. Those who work show how much they want. Can't I play with those markers as well as those? land and money, as well as black bread and marrow? A good fighter doesn't need a ring suit, and only indifferent writers have such a hard time fitting the pen.

"I'm not going to sign any petition to get Mr D into office: he and his party did everything they could to destroy my business and force me to cut wood for a living, and now they may be cutting wood themselves," he said. he. .my neighbor, the manufacturer. And it's that reputation that "a solid part of the community" craves. To such people it is no wonder that the fact of George Ripley's company seems wonderful, men of the highest culture leaving their libraries and going out in blue dresses and leather boots to the yard and the swamp. They find it strange, but when they see that it lasts and that the multi-year plans are based on it, they revise their own views. Antony and Cleopatra and old King George III donned their kersey and went outunknown

Jones Very told George Bradford that he "enjoys his songs, not because they are his, but because they are not".

"Transcendentalists err not in excess, but in deficiency, if I understand the case. They don't take crazy dreams for reality: the vision is deeper, broader, more spiritual than what they saw. They don't believe with much faith. strong: your faith is too vague, too weak to comprehend, too lacking in certainty.” (Rev.) Letter to Thomas T. Stone M. M. E., June 1841.

September 21.

dr. Ripley died this morning. The fall of this ninety-year-old oak causes a sensation in the forest, old and doomed as it was. He identified himself at least with the forms of the old New England Puritan church, his nature was eminently loyal, not at all adventurous or democratic; and with all his being he leaned on the deceased, so that he looked like one of the backdrops of this great camp and army that filled the world with glory, and with him disappears from sight almost the last banner and guidon banner of a powerful time. For these Puritans, however, in our last days they descended into ritualism, solemnly marking the flowering of their power with the founding and emancipation of America.

Big, dark, and serious men, I belong by natural inclination to thoughts and schools different from yours, but my affection hovers reverently over your retired footprints, your unpainted churches, your austere platforms, and your sad offices; an iron-gray deacon and a tedious prayer, rich in all-time diction.

Well, the new is just the seed of the old. What is this abolition, not resistance and moderation, but the continuation of Puritanism, though it inevitably works to destroy the church in which it grew up, as the new always makes the old superfluous? duties . What order, what prudence! No waste and no meanness, always with open hands; fair and generous. My little boy brought him a peach in a gourd a week ago, but the gourd brought home two pears. I brought him melons in a basket, but the basket came home with apples. He signed up for every charity; he was the most public citizen of this city. He gave the land for the monument. He knew the value of a dollar as well as any man. Yet he always sold cheaper than any other man...

"Unfortunately the linden and the vine bloom

And may the righteous gather in the grave."

But from his own soil he was good for nothing. Talking to crazy people was as crazy as they were; to speculate with the thoughtful and form-haters, he was lost and stupid.... Gullible and self-confident, a great smasher of the foreheads of the poor old priests who still survived since April 19th to make them witness his story as he wrote it . A man without enthusiasm, without feelings. His horror of the doctrine of non-resistance was amusing -

He was an easy man to read, for his whole life and conversation were consistent and transparent... In college, F. King told me of Governor Gore, who was a colleague of the physician, that he might be called “Saint Ripley, in derision, perhaps in sorrow, and now in his old age, when all the old Hebraism and customs are crumbling, it is fitting that he too should go, it is more fitting that in the fall of the law a loyal man should die.

Shall I not say generally of him, that, considering his constitution, his life was harmonious and perfect?

Your body is a beautiful and noble spectacle. My mother was just now moved to call him "the beauty of the dead." He looks like a sachem lying in the forest, or rather "a warrior resting with a warrior's cloak around him". I took Waldo to see him and he showed no disgust or surprise, just the quietest curiosity. He turned ninety last May, but that face has the tension and determination of a strong man. He was a very moderate man. Man is but a small thing in the midst of these great objects of nature, mountains, clouds, horizons and celestial spheres, but man by moral quality can abolish all thoughts of greatness, and his manners are equal to the majesty of the world.


Every man is undoubtedly eloquent once in his life. The only difference between us is that we cook at different degrees on the thermometer. This man was brought to a boiling point by the excitement of the conversation in the hall; that man requires the extra calorie of a big meeting, a public debate; and the third needs an antagonist, or great indignation; the fourth must have a revolution; and the fifth nothing less than the grandeur of absolute ideas, the splendor of heaven and hell, the vastness of truth and love.

The whole state of society naturally depends on this law of the soul which everyone must sooner or later read - as I am, so I see; my country during this time must always be represented in bridal, business or city, as well as in my face and my companion's fate.

"A new friend is like new wine; when it is old, you will drink it with pleasure." (Ecclesiastes IX, 10.)

(the H)

"An avenue was shaded by your eyes

Through which I wandered to eternal truth."

Compliance, patience play a big role. The abundance of the poorest place is too great - the harvest cannot be reaped. The thought I think excludes me from all other thoughts. Culture should cultivate a great sensibility, transform man into eyes, but as the eye can only see what has the shape of the eye or its own state, we hit our walls everywhere in the universe and we must bring happiness we find, and be grateful. We deserve to see. Very feeble and feeble are Nature's impressions on the senses. We will not stupefy them with intemperance and sleep. We repeat them too partially: the symbols in which I hoped to convey the universal sense are rejected as partial. What remains but to agree with the belief that without lies and anger we will finally acquire a man's voice and language.

The sun and the moon are tablets on which the name and glory of the good are written.

Nature is a silent man.

It would be well if a course in idealism were taught in our schools, so that every good Whig could see the trail of gunpowder that lies beneath the soil in which he stands so firmly. Let him know that he talks with ghosts and ghosts, let him distinguish a real man from a ghost.

"We don't wake up every morning at four to write what the whole world thinks," said the good German.

The inevitability of the new Spirit is a great fact, and nobody takes it seriously, nor sees that the hope and palladium of humanity is there; but he blushes and timidly hints at extenuating circumstances, and makes fun of the weakness or absurdity of some of his advocates - but God comes to confirm and destroy, to work through us if we are willing, to crush us if we resist. No great cause is defended on its own merits.

If I added up the Annual Records, the Red Books, the Scientific Societies, the Lloyd's Lists and the Bicknell Reporters, I would not get the age of which this pine forest speaks.

Boston.Natural History Society; Athenaeum and galleries; Lowell Institute; Lyceum; Mechanics fair; Cambridge College; Father Taylor; Statehouse; Faneuil Hall; bookstores; Tremont Theatre.

Taylor, Webster, Bancroft, Frothingham, Reed, Ward.

There is a great destiny that comes with it, as in all ages, which is colossal in its characteristics, terrible in its power, which cannot be tamed, criticized or subdued. It is shared by all the men and women of that time, because they live from it. As a huge and solid phalanx comes a generation, they have the same characteristics, and their pattern is new in the world. They all wear the same facial expression, but that's what they don't recognize in each other. It is a life that thinks of philosophers, that toils of workers, that delights in poets, that expands in love for women. Do not be afraid, this is full of romance, the wildest sea, mountain or desert - life is no longer an instinct with aboriginal strength. That's what inspires every new effort you make. That's what makes life sweet for them; that the ambitious seek power they can control; that's what the rich want to be able to buy; when they marry, it is for the love of it; when they study, that's what they study, and they read or write. It is new in the universe, it is the attraction of time: it is the wonder of the Infinite: this is the last image of the Creator: calm and perfect lies on the threshold of vast Eternity, and if, in the upper, if in the depths of nature, there is an abode for constant watchers, what would they study but this - the cumulative result, the new morning with all its dew, rich with the spoils of all past times? Isn't it funny to see firstborns of this age unaware of the profound and prophetic charm that makes the individual null; interrupting the wonder and joy of the age with their official lament that they are critical and know too much? They are not torn in the whirlpool, - carried away by their power, they know not whence, they know not where, and yet they adjust their clothes and faces the moment they fly past me with this self-criminationtedious?If only someone knew how to make rye straw! Weak people are worried about themselves - about what they have consciously done and what they intend to do, and they talk about this a lot with modesty and fear. Strong people consider themselves facts, in which the involuntary part is so great as to fill all their amazement, and they do not spare the courage to say anything about something as trivial as their private thoughts and actions. I can talk about myself as a character in a panorama that absorbs me so much.

The whole game the philosopher plays every day, year after year, is to find the top and bottom of every block that comes his way. Nothing too big and nothing too thin, but it has two sides, and when he sees the outside, he turns it over to see the other side. We never get tired of this game, as we've always marveled at the exposure on the other side of the button - the contrast of the two sides. Head and tail are called the language of philosophyFinaleuInfinity.Visible and Spiritual, Relative and Absolute, Apparent and Eternal, and many other beautiful names.

O Poet.One morning I was surprised by the news that a Genie had appeared in a young man sitting next to me at table...

It's strange how fastExperienceand the wonderful twins, Castor and Pollux of our firmament, change places; one is rising and the other is setting. Today and a hundred days Experience was on the rise, and the Idea lurked over life only to heighten the impression, the maker of fireworks, the master of mirth, and the hired poet of the mighty: but in the moment of revolution! the dream displaces the working day and the world of work, and now they are a dream and this is reality. All ancient features have been swept away by the flood, and geography and history, laws and customs, aims and methods of society are as fleeting as the colors that chase when we close our eyes. All experience has now become mere language. The idea now drags him, a shackled poet, to memorize and sing his triumph.

Chilmark.Sir, I have your message for a small debt, can you pay it off today?

By the way, you might have brought me money.


Hi.I contracted this debt when I bought and sold; now I am protesting against the market. Wordpayit is immoral.

Chil."It's better to let go of an old love before relaxing with a new one."

In Berlin, it was publicly announced at tea tables that Fichte declared that he did not believe in the existence of Heinrich Schlossen, who was worth two hundred thousand thalers. In fact, it was rumored that he was not responsible for Madame Fichte's existence.

One day I was in the courtroom talking to Luther Lawrence when the sheriff introduced several women who were witnesses in the ongoing trial into the crowd. As they ran through the crowd, Mr. Lawrence said, "Here come the light troops!" Neither Plato nor Mohammed nor Goethe said anything more severe about our beautiful Eve. Still, the old lawyer had no intention of being a Satanist. The mockery is in the astrayness of our good angel, in the violent direction in which this succession of maids and matrons come with red-hot heads to witness the gossip they know about Mr. Gulliver or Mrs. sanctuary of sanctity, feeling, and solitude in which judgments and they make the forums absurd... I am reminded of Edward Taylor's indignation at the gentle admonitions of Dr. Q. The true answer is: 'My friend, a man can be neither praised nor insulted.'

On the reels, the old world and those elusive colors of political thought, like the gleam of a dove's neck, chase each other across the wide fields of mankind, Whigs, Tories; For and against slavery; Catholic, Protestant; the turmoil lasts for a while, but the people who create it change; the mafia remains, the people who make it up change from moment to moment. The world listens to what both sides say and swear, accepts both declarations, and adopts a course neither recommends, but a diagonal line of progress that is part of both paths.

Astra companyorsolidago

OAn idealist must at least be free of envy; because every poet is but a glimpse of his own mind, and every beauty is his own reflected beauty. He is always a guest in his own house and his house is as big as it gets.

Exaggeration is a law of nature. As we do not even peel apples or potatoes to fill the measure, so Nature sends no creature, no man into the world, without adding a little excess of her own quality... Every sentence has some lie of exaggeration in it. this. Because infinite diffusion refuses to be epigrammatized, the world enclosed in a word. The thought expressed in the sentence becomes falsely emphasized by the mere separation.

G.W. Tyler supports Providence... The Whig party in the universe admits that radicals pronounce the original law, but allow no friction, and this omission makes their whole doctrine insolent. A Whig assumes an illness, and his membership is a hospital, all his legislation is for the affliction of the present, —— a universe of slippers and flannels, with saucer and spoon, swallowing pills and herbal tea. Whig preaching, Whig poetry, Whig philosophy, Whig weddings. There are no cruel Miltons who speak the truth, Rousseaus.

Blue heron, grebe and sheldrake come to Fairhaven Pond; raccoons and otters for Walden.

The merchant does not allow a book at the till, he suspects all tastes and inclinations except that of the merchandise, no conversation, no thoughts beyond the cotton, the quality of the cotton, and its advance or fall by a penny or a penny. What is this convulsion of form in the wooden cap, the wooden belt and the wooden shoes, and how could the black man not be more of a man than one of these victims? - a black, which, though low and imperfect in organization, yet is not a wooden basin, but a wild cedar swamp, rich in all vegetation of grass and moss and confervæ and ferns and flags, with showers and sunshine; mists and moonlight, birds and insects fill its desert with life and promise.

Of course, no one should be rich except those who understand it. It is supposed that the Cushings and Perkinses are wealthy, that they are inclined to underwrite the college and the railroad, to donate the Athenaeum, to open public gardens, to buy and exhibit pictures, liberalities which are done by very good and industrious men, who They got their money a penny or a shilling all of a sudden, I never would have remembered. But what are the rich for? It is an unnecessarily large and cumbersome apparatus for anyone who has not the genius to produce any other result than the simplest invention of an acre and a hut.

Every nation, to get out of barbarism, must have a foreign incentive, a graft of wild cattle, and every man must. For this he may go to college, or to conversations, or love affairs, or to the successes and mortifications of his particular biography, war, politics, fishing, or love - some antagonism which he must have as projectile force to balance his centripetalism.

Professor Cheney says there is eight-row corn, twelve-row corn, brindle, badger, Canada, sweet, white, and Missouri corn.

Fifty pounds a bushel makes corn salable, and he weighed a bushel of Bigelow corn (?) and it was seventy pounds.

O Master Cheney! I hear the melody in your speech and I see clearly that you don't need poetry. I see your silver thread shining in your home condo. Don't break your flowers. Plow your crops.

G. C. Tylerecame here with all its jingle. God's attributes, he said, were two, power and risk. It is the duty of every godly man, he said, to keep up fraud as best he can, and so to patronize Whigism, piety, and providence, and wherever he sees anything that helps to keep the people in order, schools or churches, or poetry, or what not, he must cry Hist-a-boy! and encourage play to. It was like Eli Robbins' Theory of Fun. He sleeps four hours, from three to seven. He was smarter than Mr. Greenleaf in court. He practiced medicine somewhere in the barracks, and at St. Johns, being a freak who called himself a free will Baptist, was immediately taken to preach at the meeting, which he did for fifty-five minutes, and left the audience in tears, and stood up for the revival. He drinks a pound and a half of coffee in a pint of water every night, thick with molasses, and when he has a headache he puts a piece of ice on his head with an iron ring.

"Fame is a stimulus that awakens a bright spirit

Despise the pleasures and live difficult days."

The philosopher sat facing east until a cobweb was woven around the edge of his pot of porridge. Intemperance is the only vulgarity.

I will never be surprised by Mr. Pickens, who said "that he would not go to Mr. R's church until the interesting times were over"* (that is, until ordination and personal matters were exhausted). People's personalities, their biography, brother and sister, uncle and aunt unfortunately get in the way.

A novel byOf Cliffordit made me think of aristocracy. I would love to have that andPericles eu aspasiathey circulate freely in this country as lessons in the beauty of manners which we so badly need—lessons in merit and personal manners; but this book is superstitious, and has no idea of ​​the character's despotic power... But in Miss Edgeworth, and in this story ofOfthe hero in crisis speaks with the greatest spirit and nature, so the scene is hot as blood and good for the heart.

This view we have of the selfish man, that he always values ​​the consequences, the reputation, or some kind of after-applause; but a good-natured man never looks that far. May self-nerve never be so sharp, This wretched trick of Nature is sharper than he is, And has him by his side. Fake relationships have some good in them. All our solitudes bear precious fruit, and this is the most famous of all our solitudes. I value more the tenderness of a rigid nature than all the tenderness of a sensitive person. When such a person is touched, tears are precious. The only bribe the "community" has for us is that it allows friends to get together without any commitment on either side, as our other hospitality does not. Now we see different people whose slowness in friendship clearly shows that life is not long enough, with its rare opportunities, that we and they should be worth something to each other. They are constitutionally good and great, but only after living in the house with them for years can we realize the promise we read in their eyes. They are now just the Lord's guarantee to us that the value exists and will be available to us somewhere. What can life offer me more than security?

I can forgive the deep nature everything, because they survive all their weaknesses and pedantry, and they are just as good in ten years and much better. It's strange, it's so hard to find good ones: a deep nature will have a wild roughness, a delicate one will be shallow or have a big crack, so every piece has a flaw. I suppose, if I saw all the nobility of England go through the review, I would find neither gentleman nor lady.... There must be a genius going in that direction [ie, friendship]: it must not be politeness, but kindness; not delicious, but taste; not golden, but golden. O shitty men and blonde women, is civilization scum and blue kindness?

Sarah Alden Ripley is a brilliant outsider: she stands out among the figures at this masquerade. I don't expect that seeing her will achieve anything, any thought: she too is suffocated by the crowd of all her riches, Greek and German, Biot and Bichat, chemistry and philosophy. All this is a brilliant obstruction. But she is capable of a high and calm intelligence, and of putting all facts aside for the rest of her life, as we sometimes did. But when she doesn't and it's just stormy, time is lost. I think it's worth spending time on this.

White and red.

I only see two or three people and I leave them all in my room: they spread out to the horizon. If I looked at many, as you do, or compared them commonly with others, they would seem smaller. However, are they not entitled to this magnificence? Isn't it theirs? And isn't generosity the only insight?

We cannot fix marriage, because that would introduce such carnage into our social relationships, and the most furious Radical seems to be a good Whig about marriage theory.

However, perhaps we can see how the facts are in the sky. A woman hides her form from the eyes of men in our world: they cannot, in good conscience, be trusted. In a true state, the love of a person, which every man carried in his heart, should protect every woman from his eyes like an impenetrable veil of indifference. The love of one should make him indifferent to all others, i.e. his protector and holy friend, as to her. But now there is in every man's eye a certain evil light, a vague desire which binds him to the forms of many women, while his affection is bound to one. Your natural eye is not fixed on coincidence with your spiritual eye.

Spirea tomentosa.

Why do I write another line when my best friends assure me that I repeat myself in every line? However, God must be obeyed to the point of ridicule. Public criticism, as I have always observed, is far ahead of his invention. The ear cannot be deceived. A continuous effect cannot be produced by a discontinuous thought, and when the eye fails to detect the union of a skilful mosaic, the spirit knows disunity simply because of its inability to affect the spirit. I also admit the last - that the Fingal man is very plastic, or, as it were, works more in the spirit of a carpenter than an architect. A thought that seems grandiose and dantesque to him, and that opens an abyss, he immediately presents to another transformed into a room or tidy hall, and degrades the ideas.

I told Henry Thoreau that his freedom is in form, but he doesn't discover new things. I'm very familiar with all of his thoughts - they're my own pretty original robes. But if the question is what new ideas he put into circulation, he still hasn't said what he was meant to say. I told him what I often feel, I know but three people who seem to me to fully understand this law of reciprocity or compensation - he, Alcott and I: and it is not strange that we are all neighbors, for in a wide country or a wide country No, I know of another who seems to have it just as deep and original as these three Gothamites.

But as far as poetry is concerned, I would say that when I go out into the fields on a still sultry day, in a still sultry mood, I find that the best rhythms and cadences of poetry have yet to be found, and that in that purest state that shines before us, we shall be enchanted by the rhythms of fairies and dreamy music, compared with psalms, the best measures of English poetry. Now I think that the most beautiful and sweetest conclusions and falls are not in our meters, but in the measures of eloquence, which have more variety and richness than verses... Now, unfortunately, we know something too much about our poetry, - we are not an integral part of it: is that it does not descend like a foreign invader from an unexpected side of the horizon upon us, does not drive us with our flocks and herds into a strange and horrible bondage, so that in later periods, the adopted sons of the Great King and , finally, to reveal to us that he was our true father, and this kingdom and palace is actually our homeland. Yet I allow myself to think that somewhere else there can be such ecstasy of heart, such continuity of thought, that one will see the little sun and moon turning, making day and night, making moon after moon, unseen, in the magnificence of its absorption. Now we not only know when it is day and when it is night, but we hear the dinner bell with most commendable accuracy. I am not a fool to savor the joy that comes from a wonderful new person, from Dante, from Rabelais, from Piranesi, who open the doors to new ways of being for me, and even if I inwardly nod my head prematurely, my very parsimonious understanding of old trumpet, that the basis of this joy is finally instinctive, that I can only have my own property, that the poet and his book and his story are only inventions and appearances in which my thought willingly clothes itself, I do not for that reason give up to the acute pleasure of difference and novelty.

I think the importance of beautiful landscapes is often greatly exaggerated, because the dazzling part of any landscape is where heaven and earth meet...

The man in black walked in as I spoke and my face darkened. So I said, I certainly see that a Swedish-Borgian finds pleasure in his church and is involved in its love and fellowship that haunts him night and day, but if a Unitarian is called to go out and preach to the Unitarians in Peoria, Illinois, I do not see no question so proper or unavoidable as his asking whether they will pay his travel expenses and keep him well...

In good company, - they say among the angels of heaven, - everything is not said indirectly and nothing is quite straightforward how did it happen?

It seems that the day was not entirely profane, in which I looked with interest at a natural object... At least these things are not imbued with our rural personalities and ambitions, do not pay taxes, do not own shares in City Bank, and do not need to rent the house. own sawing wood. And yet, as they rescue me from my village, I know they are drawn to me because of something they symbolize:

that they are not strangers as it seems, but relatives. Wait a while and I'll see the return of even this distant and hyperbolic curve.

Margaret Fuller spoke of ballads and our love for them: it is strange that we value the wild man so much, the Ishmaelite, and his catchphrases, claymore and tomahawk, but every step we take, everything we do, is to tame him. It's like Farley's pioneering hatred of civilization, and running away from it to cut down trees all winter and take solace in preparing for civilization! Margaret doesn't think, she says, in the woods, she just "finds herself expressing herself".

One of my stories promised above to embody the history of time - 'Life and Times'

—— must have been that of little Edward Webster, who one day, after the grace had been recited at dinner, asked his father, "Who knewwis-wisat dinner, when was he supposed to go to Washington?

Another important thing in the Religion Section would be Lieutenant Bliss's response when I asked if they had morning prayers at West Point like they did at college. He said: “We havedawnwin, which is the same thing.”

One of the best jokes these days is the one told about poor Bokum, when he went to hire a horse and deckchairs from a stable in Cambridge, and the man wondered whether he should put a buffalo? "Oh my God! no, cried the startled German, get on the horse!

I appreciate Shakespeare, yes, as a metaphysician, and I admire the unspoken logic that underpins the structure of Iago, Macbeth, Antony and the rest. It is the real poverty at the bottom of all this apparent wealth, the vertiginous speed with which, in London, Paris and Cochin, China, every transparent soul pierces through all the thin mask of ancient fact, it is disgust with this scarcity of Nature that takes those angry livers like Napoleon, Timor, Byron, Trelawney and John Quincy Adams to drive their horses so hard, in the fury of living that they forgetJuha To bendof life?...

It is an evil fact that our editors think they have a right to demand that Daniel Webster resign from office or, much more, renounce his opinion and accept theirs. It's the madness of the party. I think it a good sign, an indication of public virtue among the Whigs, that there are so many opinions among them, and that they are not organized and trained.

There are two directions in which souls move: one is trust, religion, consent to be nothing forever, rapt waiting, worship of ideas: the other is activity, occupation, following the practical talent that we have, in the belief that what we have makes us so natural, easy, pleasant, and desirable for others to lead safely out: in that direction lie usefulness, comfort, companionship, little powers of all kinds. The other is solitary, majestic, worldly. I don't see it, but they differ all the time, and you can choose any one. When I was in college, John L. Gardiner said one day that he was "seriously thinking about getting religious next week, but maybe you should join the Porcellians." two differences? for it is certain that every impulse of this feeling elevates, and yet brings into play all practical power. Here I am again in a dark corner. We have not a single consummate example of the poetic life, so whatever we say seems if life is sad and does not satisfy us, if the skies are bronze and do not pour sweet thoughts over us, and especially we have nothing to say to the castaways, to the lonely and the young, let us keep our mouths shut... .. And if the day does not seem dark to my soul, nor is the cause lost, why should I avail myself of such pernicious kindness as to admit that God has failed , because the common colors, or the tempestuous suit of gray clouds in which the day is set, should not please the rash imaginations of my fellows? Patience and truth, patience with your own frosts and denials, and a few words should suffice... If our sleeps are long, if our flights are short, if we are not feathered and painted like eagles and birds of paradise, but like sparrows. and common birds, if our taste and training be earthly, let the fact be meekly and cheerfully borne. The wise God also observes this with pleasure. Wine and honey are good, but so are rice and food. Perhaps everything that is not a performance is preparation or a performance that will be.


Exclusive.Baptists in a closed community have a packed congregation: Unitarians in an open community have an empty table. If you want to fill your house, make the door so narrow that a fat man cannot enter, and you will certainly have a lot of people.

"Champion of England" is never called until the new boxer that comes along has beaten all the others who met him in the ring. Then the existing "Champion" must emerge or lose his dignity and pension. Therefore, a wise man should never concern himself with the writings of the philosophers of the day until they hit the white and get into his body.

"O golden boys and girls shall,

How the chimney sweeps turned to dust.”

Few are trusted to talk about wealth. Mercury is our measure of the temperature of air and water, clay is our pyrometer, silver our photometer, feathers our electrometer, catgut our hygrometer - but what is our meter of man, our anthropometer? Poverty is alive. Wealth seems to be the condition of man.

The accepted view of State Street Transcendentalism is that it threatens to void contracts.

Plutarch's heroes are my friends and relatives.

As we lead it, the artist is sacrificed to some extent. Michel Angelo, to paint the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, must for a time lose his ability to read without holding a book above his head, and Doctor Herschel, to preserve his eyes for nocturnal observation, must protect them from the light of day. .

Speeches by Thomas H. Benton and Protocols of Vienna and St. Louis. Petersburg are equally within the circle of today's universe - they must be regarded as the most vital and beautiful appearance; and the theory of Heaven and Earth may be established alike on the lowest and the highest fact. Permissive characterizes God as much as the beloved.

As I looked at the Madonnas and Madeleines in the Athenaeum, I saw that the painter drew chiefly from models, and from such beauties, therefore, what models probably are, flesh, color, and emotion; but of noble, intellectual, and spiritual beauties, "great seraphic lords and cherubim" of the sex, there are no signs, except in Raphael. However, two or three Greek women, clear, serene and organically noble like any form left to us in a vase or temple, adorn my group and the picture of life. And we demand that the figure be not hazy or hazy at all, but transparent, - elevated as it pleases God, but not eccentric.


Hiponomachus recognized a good fighter by his march in the street, and an old wanderer like myself will recognize a subtle harlequin in his coarsest dress, in an Olmsted furnace, in a horned ox, in a parliamentary speech, or in a mulberry bush.

Long live the camera obscura! the fewer of us, the better we look.

Books - yes, if the worst happens: but not yet. A cup of tea, or a cup of anger, or a good book will light the pot. Birds must have gravel or eggshell, swallows and goldfinches must have wire or straw wire for nesting. Did you catch the whole beaver before you saw your amphibious home? Man is only half of himself. To see the other half, namely your facial expression. Strange, strange, we value that half more. We love expressors; we forgive them all their crimes. Full expression is very rare. Music, sculpture, painting, poetry, speech, action, war, commerce, manufacture is an expression. A portrait is this translation of things into a new language. What a passion all people have to see for themselves or others. Now you see how small is the list of memorable expressions in books, paintings, houses or institutions, after so many millions have choked on the idea!

Elizabeth Hoar consecrates.I have no friend I'd rather be immortal than her, an influence I can't do without, but I must always have on hand to help. When Margaret mentioned "the expression of unadulterated purity," I said, "That's hers." M. replied, "Yes, but she knows." I reply, — Whether she knew it or not, the impression she leaves is that her role has been assumed, that she has irrevocably joined the sacred, — the Muses and the Gods. Others often suggest that they still maintain a balance; their genius draws them to happiness; they are thinking of an experiment; they have not relinquished the power of choice. Opium and honey, dagger and madness, they love and must still lie deep inside, like shadows and possibilities. But Elizabeth made up her mind and flew to another firmament, and they do not exist for her. Bonaparte disliked ideologues: Elizabeth is no poet, but her sanctity is essential and she must be felt, like the heat of a furnace or the gravity of a stone: and Bonaparte would have respected her.

Is identity boring? Not if we can take care of life. It always stuns us with sweet wonder. A million times since the sun rose, the words "I thank you" have been spoken. Yet they are just as graceful and musical to my ears when uttered with lively feeling, as if they were coined for the first time.

People say law, but they mean wealth.

Genius.Giftedness remarks are piercing; but, ingeniously, wells that connect at the bottom of the mine. but ah! this opinion scud.

Anything.We sit and talk here in the dark, but don't we all know that the sun will shine again and each of us will go to our work? God will resolve all doubts, he will fulfill all measures. I would like my book to be read as I have read my favorite books, not with explosion and awe, wonder and rocket, but with a friendly, pleasant influence that creeps over a traveler like the scent of a flower or the sight of a new landscape. I don't want to be hated and challenged by the kind I fear, nor to be kissed and hugged by young people whose thoughts I encourage.

Partridge berry, white alder orHarvest.

Life totals must be worth it when fractions and particles are so sweet.

The daguerreotype is good because of its authenticity. No one fights with his shadow, nor will he fight with his miniature when the sun was the painter. There are no distractions here, and the distortions aren't artist errors, but just movement, imperfect lighting, and the like.


I wish I could, from afar I know I cannot, give the lights and shadows, the hopes and glances that occur to me in these strange, cold, attractive and repulsive conversations with Margaret, whom I always admire, the more I venerate when I am closer to her. see, and sometimes I love, - but who do I freeze, and who freezes me to silence, when it seems that we promised to get closer


(From a free sheet in G)

It is not a suggestion, but a tone that indicates. Does a man speak or imitate a man? Universal Whiggery is meek and weak. Every proclamation, dinner speech, account of a victory, or anti-government protest he publishes betrays his thin, watery blood. He is never calm, not angry, not scary, not cold or hot. Instead of looking passionately towards his own goals, he dislikes the policies of Washington and Jefferson. He speaks expectantly rather than with the flood of his wants and needs, he waits for his opponent to speak so that something can be disputed, and failing that, having nothing to say, he is happy to shout. What do Washington or Jefferson have at this time?... They lived in the vegetation and shyness of a political experiment. The kitten's eyes were not yet open. They shocked their contemporaries with their bold wisdom: you are not something that would shockeu?If not, shut up, because others are.

Passion, appetite seem to have confidence and reality; but Whiggery is a great fear.

(the H)

I saw Fanny Elssler at the ballet in BostonNatalie.She should show, I suppose, the full compass of her instrument, and add to her grace of smoother motion, or the "wisdom of her feet," the feats of the tightrope dancer and the acrobat: and perhaps in general the beauty of the exposition is enhanced by what is strong and strange, as when standing upright on the ends of the toes or on a toe, or "accomplishing the impossible" in the pose. But the chief beauty lies in the extreme grace of her movements, the variety and nature of her attitude, the playfulness and conquering spirit of all her little coquetry, the wonderful straightness of her body, and the freedom and determination which she can so easily assume. and, what greatly impressed me, an air of perfect sympathy for the house, and that mixture of respect and conscious superiority which puts it in a perfect frame of mind and an equal part of it. When she woos, her sweet, slow, lingering spread that goes down and down still as the curtain falls, until she seems to have invented new depths of grace and condescension - well deserves the profusion of bouquets of flowers thrown on the stage.

As for the moral, as it is called, of this exhibition, it is entirely up to the spectator. The foundation of this exhibition, as of all human talent, is morality, sport and the triumph of health or the virtue of organization. Its charm for the house is that it dances for them or they dance in it, unable to dance themselves (for some lack of form and education). We have to be expressive. Hence all the joy and delight that the show provides and the intimate possession that every observer feels of the dancer, and the joy with which he hears good anecdotes about her spirit and her benevolence. They know that this extraordinary grace must rest on some hidden foundation of inner harmony.

But, besides his dancing genius, there are that person's incidental vices, his own false taste, or his mere art of pleasing the ground, which must displease the sensible. Immorality the immoral will see; the immoral himself will see only this; clean people will not pay attention to this, - because it is not intrusive, - maybe they will not see it at all. I should not think of the danger to young women who, with their father or brother, leave the gay and sheltered drawing rooms for this theater, only to return there in a few hours; but I can easily surmise that it is not the safest refuge for students who have left metaphysics, conics, or Tacitus to see these dangerous satin slippers, and cannot forget this graceful silver swimmer when they retire again for the graduation of the Seasons. .

It is a great pleasure to see the best of all kinds, and as a good student of the world I do not want to miss anything that is excellent in its unseen, unseen kind.

I also heard admirable music in the city. It seemed, as I groped for the meaning, as if I were listening to the story of the fairy knights' adventures - some Wace, or Monstrelet, or Froissart, was telling, in a language I very little understood, the tiniest and smallest details. funny of tournaments and loves and fights and faith and tears and fates of airy adventurers, small as moths, thin as light, quicker than shadows - and these anecdotes were illustrated with all kinds of mime and scene painting, all fun and humor and sadness, and, from time to time, the people described themselves entered and answered, danced, fought and sang to themselves. I saw Webster in the street, - but he had changed since I last saw him, - black as a stormcloud and haggard; the anxiety that grips this generation among the young and thinking class crept into the great bar, and very evidently, very evidently, he was one of us. I wasn't surprised that he narrowed his eyes when he saw me and didn't look at my face. The worms have crawled to the highest branch of the wild elm tree and are descending from it. No wonder his elm is a little restless.


Water understands civilization well -

Wet my foot, but nice;

It cools down my life, but with humor;

not confused,

Not a broken heart.

Well used, it adorns joy,

Adorneth, double the joy.

Misused, it will destroy;

In perfect time and measure

With a face of golden satisfaction

Destroy with grace.

Already o Excellent Rarity of bom Expressions.Fanny Elssler is a good expression. She can say in her own language what her neighbors cannot say in theirs. Part of the reason why Elssler is so endearing to gay men is that they are constrained and constrained by the decency of city life, and she shows them freedom. They walk through their cotillions in Papanti's montages, but Fanny's hands and head and body dance as well as her feet, and are much refreshed to see.

I went to the city with some crazy people: the worst thing about this company is that they always bite you, and then you get mad too.

The aim of the aristocracy is to secure the ends of common sense and beauty without vulgarity or deformity of any kind, but they use a very operetta method. What an apparatus of means to ensure idle talk...

I would not like to sit in your house, I would not like to be caressed by you, while this hellish infantry [fine clothes, dinners and servants] keep me from that dear and spiritual conversation I desire. The time will come when these obstacles, arising from I don't know what cause, will disappear; if I have poverty of spirit, I will warm myself with the wine of God and walk with a firmer step; if it is some unreasonable demand on your part, experience will reduce your conditions to the level of practicability. Tom, tone is everything...

In writing, the moment of casting is of the utmost importance, just as in Daguerre's portraits there is no point in having that exact man in front of you, if his facial expression has escaped.


Yet isn't it funny what we're doing in this idle, apathetic trick we gradually fall into from endless writing and writing? After a day of humiliation and beatings, if I manage to write this down, I immediately feel relieved and can sleep peacefully. After a day of joy, the beating heart soothes the diary again. If all the angels give me thanks and if I pray, if then I manage to capture an outpouring of humility or hope and put it into syllables, piety is over.

When a great man comes, he will have that social force which Dr. Kirkland, Dr. I am enlarged: how boring I was! Has my horizon not been broadened and new lately? This man! this man! Where he came from!

(Video) Forced Into Politics: Daniel Webster, Ralph Waldo Emerson and the Fugitive Slave Crisis - HTG Online

One more thing. As the solar system moves across the sky, certain stars open in front of us and others close behind us. Such is the life of man...

November 22.

Would Jesus be admitted to Almacks? Would they admire the manners of Adam and Eve in the Thuilleries? In the lonely wood I remember London and think I would like to be initiated into exclusive circles. There are two ways: one, conquer them and go like Attila to Rome, or like Napoleon married in the Austrian house: he has this condition to be of the highest kind, such a conquest as a great genius makes, and thus the individual demonstrates his natural aristocracy, the best of of the best.... He must hold his place subject to this condition of instantly refreshing the old merits with new, or make his first blow one of those blows for the empire which maintains the position....

Fashion is a big field and goes from the kingdom of heaven to the borders of hell. Mr. Philip Sidney is the presiding deity.

You came to this company out of spite. How is that? We came for love, to see each other and talk. You've come to give us things that are already written in your notebooks (and by the time you've counted them, you're exhausted). The best of our conversation is planned here, and therefore we go farther than we come to the life we ​​awakened in each other; but you, when your quiver is empty, must sit silent and alert for the rest of the night. Everything you say makes you poorer, and everything we say makes us richer: you go home, when the company is over, abandoned: we go home (without thinking of ourselves) full of happiness in pleasant dreams.

Certainly there is a class of citizens discreet as men who keep secrets, good providers of their houses, whom you know where to find: but do not measure by your law that savage influence which, indeed, I met in space and time, but knew at once that it couldn't be closed there; a vast, indeterminate nature, running every moment beyond all limitations and treated like oxygen and hydrogen, of diffuse elasticity, universal and irrevocable. He could keep no secrets, he could keep no property, he could keep no laws but his own.

Margaret is "a being of undetermined position in the universe". So proud and insolent, yet so meek; so worldly and artificial, and with the most refined feeling and taste for all the pleasures of luxurious society, and yet he lives longer than any other for longer periods in a trance of religious feeling; a person who, according to his own self-image, expects everything for himself from the Universe.


Milton describes religion in his day as deserting the merchant when he enters his shop, to meet him again when he leaves. ... In a church as pure as the Swedenborgian, I cannot help feeling the neglect which leaves sanctity out of commerce. These omissions curse the church.

We forget, picking up a contemporary book, that we see a house being built, not a house being built. A look at my own manuscripts might teach me that all my poems are unfinished, piles of sketches but no masterpieces, yet when I open a printed volume of poems I am imperatively looking for art.

I think the Society has the greatest interest in seeing that this movement called Transcendental is not a game for boys or girls, but has a very near and dear interest; which has a necessary place in history, is a fact which must not be ignored, nor is it possible to prevent it, and, however discredited it may be to imprudent people and moderates and conservatives by the weakness or ineptitude of those who participate in it in the movement, it is , however, the pledge and herald of all that is dear to the human heart, great and stimulating to human faith.

I think the genius of this age was more philosophical than any other, more correct in his aims, more truthful, less fearful, less fable, less mixture of any kind.


Durability is the nobility of human beings. We love that lover whose most joyous love song, whose most ardent pledge of romantic devotion is realized through all the days of all the years of arduous long-suffering, of ever-restoring benefit. The old earl said to the old countess of Ilchester: "I know that wherever you go you will trust and respect me, and you know that I will respect you wherever I am."

We read either for antagonism or for confirmation. It doesn't matter how the book affects us, whether it contradicts and infuriates, or teaches and inspires. "Bubb Dodington" is from the first lecture I read today. Good anger brings out all of a person's powers.

Everyone, old people, girls, boys, play doctor with me and write me prescriptions. That's how they've always worked.

Life you Boston; A game you two youth eu Dob.Toys, dance school, parties, photo galleries, sleigh rides, Nahant, Saratoga Springs, lectures, concerts, —setsthrough them all; loneliness and poetry, friendship, desolation, fall, meanness; credibility, old age, death.

It must always happen in a republic what has happened here, that steamers and stages and hotels vote one way, and the nation another: and to every gathering of readers and writers it seems intolerable that Broad Street Paddies and saloon politicians, drippers and bums and all sorts of ragged and unclean and swearing without a dollar in their pocket shall control the property of the country and make the legislator and the law. But is it anything more than their share while you selfishly own the property? They oppose you: yea, but first you oppose them: they, indeed, maliciously, menacingly, with songs, thieves, and mobs; you astute, persuasive and well-mannered; you cheat and they attack; you sleep and eat at their expense; they vote and threaten and sometimes throw stones at yours.

Have you ever been daguerreotyped, O immortal man? And did you look with all your ferocity into the camera lens, that is, per the operator's instructions, at the brass peg just below it, in order to give the picture all the benefit of your wide, bright eye? and in your zeal not to blur the image, you held each finger in place so energetically that your hands clenched as if in struggle or despair, and in your determination to keep your face still, you felt every muscle tighten. everytime; brows furrowed in a Tartar frown and eyes fixed as they are on attack, madness or death? And when at last you were relieved of your drudgery duties, did you find the curtain perfectly drawn, the coat perfect, the hands straight, clenched for battle, and the shape of the face and head? — but unfortunately the full expression has escaped the face and portrait of the mask instead of the man? Could you not, by holding it fast, hold back the course of a river or a small stream and prevent it from flowing? I told Garrison that I thought he must be a very young man, or time was too heavy on his hands, who could afford to think and talk much about his neighbors' weaknesses, or play the 'son of thunder' as he called him. I am one who believes that all times are pretty much the same, but I have a lot of sympathy for that. We want to be expressed, but you take away from us the war, this great opportunity that allowed the accumulations of electricity to flow from both poles, positive and negative, - well, now you take our glass of alcohol, as before you took our glass of anger. We became the singing moths of peace, our rudder was the frying pan, and now we must become moderate streamers. You take away, and what do you give? Jefts has been nailed to roll his barrel of rum in the creek, but when he wakes up the day after tomorrow cold and poor, he'll feel like he's got something for something! No, that is mere theft... If by happy violence I could raise him to religious bliss, or to a Socratic trance and cripple him in ideas, or in the pursuit of human beauty, a divine lover, then I should much more than make up for what I took. I shouldn't take it; he would take shelter, or rather leave this litter and stable in which he wallowed, to be dressed and in good conscience to go to the assembly and the conversation of the people. I fight my way, but you, O paddies and roars, must not give way. I drink my tea and coffee, but as for you and your cups, here's the oath and the Temperance Society. I walk on Sundays and read Aristophanes and Rabelais at church hours: but for you, go to church. Good or bad, we must have an outlet for our nature... Make love a crime and we have lust. If you cannot raise us to the love of science, and make gross matter our enemy, which we shall be pleased to handle, master, penetrate, condense into the unshakable, dissolve into light, then we must quarrel, play, play, or go to bullfighting . If we cannot get the full demonstration of our heart and mind, we will feel wronged and confined: philosophers and gods we will hate the most, as higher keys. We want to get the gas that allows us to overcome their exhausting behaviors, lift a leg, put teeth, throw away weapons, dance and sing.

[Here follow many passages printed in "The Transcendentalism" and "Lecture on the Times".]

Society must be forgiven if it doesn't love its rude debunkers. The Council of Trent did not like Father Paul Sarpi. "But I show you," says the philosopher, "the leprosy that is covered with these merry coats."

"Well, I'd rather see a pretty mask than clunky skin," replies Beacon Street. Don't you know this is a masquerade? Did you think I thought of these harlequins as kings and queens, the gods and goddesses they represent? I'm not that kind of kid. Deep down in determined guardians there is tremendous skepticism.

The Rhineland of our Theological School has strangely been lost in the sand. A man enters the seminary, but does not know what will happen to him there, nor where he will get out of this winding path. Some reappear in commerce, some in the navy, some in Swedenborgian chapels, some in landscape painting.

Rely to the end on spiritual weapons and not on physical ones. The battle against slavery must not be fought on the chariot question: the doctrine is daily advancing among all men, that the high chair, the platform, the sash of gold lace, the sword, the title, are not to protect the individual. . ; but only himself, his skill, his knowledge, his character. A clown, an idiot, may sit beside him: he is born with an army of guardians in the faculties and influences of his spirit: how can they defile him? Today a man is generally proud to sit on low seats, in mean clothes, in mean company, with mulattoes and blacks; and anti-slavery legislation or society will not have to interfere.

"What are you doing, Bunny?" said Judge Webster to his eldest son.


"What are you doing, Daniel?"

"Helping Zeke."

A tolerably accurate account of most of our activities today.

Sometimes it seems to me that education ends too quickly in this country. As soon as we learn to read, write and code, we are kicked out of school and left to fend for ourselves. We are writers and tastemakers, and we write without any checks, tell any crazy joke, indulge in every oddity, quirk, or stubbornness that comes to mind, and even feed our complacency into it, and thus create nothing. , as the good ones do, horses spoil by running away and straining. I can't help but see that Dr. Channing would have been a much better writer if he had established a strict writers' court, a high established intellectual empire in the land, and known that bad logic would not pass, and that the hardest demand was made on all who entered these lists. So if a man can write a paragraph for a newspaper, next year he writes what he calls a story and considers himself a classic incontinent, and his contemporaries will not question his claims in a magazine or critical review either. It is very easy to reach the level of culture that reigns around us; it is very difficult to convey, and Dr. Channing, if he had found Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge and Lamb around him, he would have easily been hard on himself and climbed a notch higher while he was where he was. I mean, of course, the true intellectual court, not the literary board of Edinburgh wit or the dull conventions of the Quarterly or Gentleman's Reviews. Someone offers to teach me math. I would love to learn. The man is right. I wish this country's writers would start where their culture now ends.

Should writers be blamed for writing for English audiences? No, but congratulations. This shows that they monitor theirs and propose to themselves the best existing standard.

Our contemporaries.As Charles said, we have a set. It takes time to learn their names and understand their humor to get the most out of them. We all know the same stories, read the same books, know the same politics, churches, geniuses, criminals, bores, pranksters, gossips, so there's nothing to explain, but very quickly we can strike up a conversation and start and give the information of roadside we want, without the need to collect a lexicon and dragoman when we want to ask for directions to the next village.


It's good not to leave conscience dormant, but to keep it stimulated by the presence and renewed action of reforms and ideas.

Ellen H. asks "Isn't reform always in bad taste?" Oh no, a poet, a saint is not only elegant, but also elegant. He is only half poet, half saint. So now, the saint in us proposes, but the sinner in us executes so miserably. But who can be deceived who trusts in thought? That deep depth to which it leads is the Heaven of Heavens. On that pillow, softer than darkness, whoever falls cannot get up.

I told C. and M. that Aunt Mary was not an easy flute, but a very national and clan instrument; bagpipes, for example, from which only a local climber could extract music. Sometimes it seems to me that the bitterness and prosaic side of our condition only comes out in our conversations or in trying to paint a picture of ourselves for others. Quiet and alone, I don't have such a sad and unredeemed side.

Move two kilometers away if you are influenced by fashion...

Why must I continue to delay my existence and not occupy the ground to which I already feel that I finally have a right? Why do I put up with calling others, andofothers, to distance myself from what is most mine? Because, dear friend, it is still a thought, it is not yet a spirit. You haven't served him yet.

A basement is a good foundation when a house is being built, but what is a foundation without a house if not an eyesore and an eyesore? Sensations are good as an organ, servant, body of the Soul, but the world of sensations is the world of headless people. Once they dined that they might pray and praise, and so the very function of supper was prayer and praise: now they dine that they might dine again, and pray and praise (as they call it) that they might dine. Hence the phenomenon - which everywhere calls attention to an aimless society, a aimless people, a aimless world. The country is sick with this disease. Man is made for activity, and action in any sense has something of health and pleasure in it.

Calculus, if it went far enough, would also go into enthusiasm. We only seek the arithmetic to go on, not to stop and run, and the corrector's and the poet's conclusions will be the same. We are not Manichaeans, we do not believe in two hostile principles, but we think that evil arises from disproportion, interruption, the error of the means to the end. Is transcendentalism really that bad? And is there a Christian, or a civilian, a lawyer, a naturalist or a doctor so courageous that he does not finally trust in Transcendental Truths? Don't you dare say it, blind man.

We can talk about this issue with anyone because we believe that we are deeply involved for any man to brag and talk to others...

two tupigliato a lot ofAnd where did you get all that rubbish, Messer Lodovico Ariosto? said the duke to the poet. "Here in your court, Your Highness," he replied. I confess that all my universal pictures are only very particular sketches; that I live in a small village and am obliged to guess the composition of society from a few and very obscure specimens, and to retell the French revolutions by means of anecdotes, etc., etc. a class according to your own experience. I've already seen a few, I could do with a smaller number, and I'm afraid of seeing thousands when in fifteen or twenty I already have many duplicates.

We are very close to greatness: one step and we are sure: can't we take a leap?

Daguerre.The oddity of the find is that Daguerre should have known there was a painting, but he couldn't see one. When the plate is taken out of the camera, it looks the same as when it was placed there, perfect silver: it is then placed over vaporized mercury and the image emerges.

"I'm sure the daguerreotype is the true republican style of painting. The artist stands aside and lets you paint yourself. If you make a sick head, not him, but you are responsible, then daguerreotypical people have a time quite festive. They go home confessing and repenting of their sins. The Daguerreotype Institute is as good as the National Post.

False estimates are not in nature; a pound of water in an ocean storm or flood has no more momentum than in a summer pond....

We are equal to something, as long as it's just silence, waiting and death. Lets do this. The piece must also have tones. When musicians first learn sheet music, everyone wants to scream, and country bands tend to be fairly loud. Later, he learns to rest and sing in low tones. Perhaps we can trust the Composer of our great music to give us a voice when our help is needed, and to apply bellows to other stations when we must disturb the harmony...

Do what you can, and the world will feel it: say what you must, and that alone, and the echoes will resound with the music.

there is so muchsadnessthat I am convinced that if any sign of decay, of imperfect chemistry, or the like, could appear in nature, men would be very disposed to believe that the best age is past. But the youth of nature that amazes the imagination drives this thought away.

There are three wishes that can never be fulfilled: the traveler's wish, which says:allthe rich man who wantssomething more;and a sick person who wantssomething

The wishful or unspoken are certainly better candidates for that idea that creates a new world than the calculating ones.

The steam must be firm.

Every man somewhere solid.

Poor people in six hours, six weeks, six months, six years.

Scholars must not use their memoirs at balls.

Can't you believe you're constantly getting ads about what's most important for you to know; but do you, in the noise and hum of the senses, pay no attention to the sight? Miracles are so constantly happening in private spiritual experience that man pays no heed in his stubborn partisan rage to celebrate and claim the miracles of the Church. By attention and obedience to the heavenly vision, he would bring his perception to a finer delicacy.

Why Cupid did not attack the Muses can be found in Rabelais, Volume 3, p. 25.


On this wondrous day, when Heaven and Earth seem to shine with splendour, and all the wealth of all elements is put to the aid of making the world beautiful, as if Nature pleased her offspring, it was ungrateful to hide at home. There are not enough dull days in the year for writing and reading, for you to waste this brilliant season when Florida and Cuba seem to have left their places and come to visit us, with all their splendid hours, and we almost expect to see the jasmine and cactus. sprouting from the earth instead of these last lincurs and asters that are around to witness this last glory of the year? All the bugs are out, all the birds are out - the cattle themselves lying on the ground seem to have great thoughts, and Egypt and India look out of their eyes.

Dare I address a person who will only see me as a psychological fact?” said the woman with the G.R. string, and said well. But, alas, the amazement that the writers inspire turned out to be so unfounded! They must command the greatest respect when seen and when they can thunder so loudly in the distance, and not so silently in the chamber. "Ah! if only you knew John as well as I do!" said Mrs. M - The good Paul whose letter was so powerful, and his bodily presence vile and despicable, has many imitators.

OShelley doesn't influence me at all. I was born a little too soon: but his power is so manifest over a large class of the best people that he should not be neglected.

There are tests of character enough if we really dare to apply them. Do you place your expectation of happiness on some circumstance or event that is out of your control?

vagueness ofOne day I heard Jupiter speak of the destruction of the Earth...

A soldier.Is it possible to see a soldier today without the slightest – and the least possible – sense of humor?

The spiritual measure of inspiration is the depth of thought: how deep? — what is his power to disturb me and raise me up? and neverWHOhe said? But the world responds, "Paul was inspired" and longs for space and fun for him in my conscience. I answer, I do not know the man. This then makes a request to Jesus. But the great soul says: He will not enter, no one will enter, how good, how holy.

Skepticism regards ignorance as organic and ineradicable, believes in the existence of pure evil, believes in a poor broken God who does all he can to suppress disturbances and sustain the world in our day. He believes that it is really necessary; it is usually argued from the exception rather than the rule; and, if carried to a legitimate extreme, the country would reek of suicide.

Believing in luck, if it weren't solecism, to use that word, would be skepticism.

Illness also has its hero and its brilliant justification. Fontenelle, born fragile, a frail and delicate creature, was preserved with care and care for a hundred years to be the delight of France and Europe - placed, they said, like a china vase in a cupboard and fenced and guarded, they keep the softest and most tender. more volatile scent. Mr. Pope, too, was born sick and crippled, but by the care and study of these facts, and by involving himself, wherever he went, in tending and caring for the home, he lived long and enjoyed much and gave others much to enjoy.

failures of Morally Feeling.Our contemporaries do not always accompany us, but now people are constantly surprised when a foreigner, brought up in the most different ways, dreams the same dream.

We love more and more to see some graceful young man, free and beautiful as a palm tree or a pine tree, who curiously and intelligently listens to our theory of the world and has his own, and does not hiss with our hiss, but just has the same native language.

However, do not confuse a good tulip with a good tree. Do not flatter yourself when you have the liveliness, innocence, and charm of youthful manners, and have for a time had such an ear for the most difficult matters, do not trust this polite and easy young man as a native and hereditary scholar. The newcomer throws all the merits into the eclipse in no time, and the heart gladly gives itself up to the hope of endless and heavenly times that are within its reach. But no one can adhere to it except men who are born of the idea they express.

All leaves they are ways of anticipating tempo.Always this exclamation "Time, Time; give us time: men are not prepared for it", means lack of spiritual strength. Time is the inverse measure of the amount of spirit. If you are sure of your truth, if you are sure of yourself, you now ascend into eternity; you have already reached that point, and what ahe takes placewith you what other men promise.

In poetry we say we need a miracle. The bee flies among the flowers and obtains mint and marjoram, and creates a new product which is not mint or marjoram, but honey: and the chemist mixes hydrogen and oxygen to give a new product which is not hydrogen or oxygen, but water: and the o poet listens to all conversations and receives all objects of Nature to return them, not them, but a new, perfect and brilliant whole.

We confess, O Miss P., that there is a difference between the spirit in which these wretches, struggling to throw off the yoke of traditional worship, and crying out in their pain and hope, speak at the Chardon Street Convention, and the spirit in which one who has long since freed himself from those, he turns his fears around and consciously hurls sarcasm at ancient and revered names.

Influence Who each What One ter they a Slab One."You believe in magnetism, in new and supernatural powers, powers contrary to all experience, and don't you think that iron Caesar can shake iron?...

New vegetables are always made from the stuff of rotten vegetables, and the triumph of thought today is on the ruins of some old victory of thought. I saw a man who religiously burned his Bible and other books: and yet the publication of the Bible and Milton and the rest was the same act, namely, the burning of the books of the world at that time, which was also the cremation of more.

Our American geography is so large that noise does not make noise. Who hears of the US military? or about the terrible sophomores who are said to be rioting in our colleges? or law students, or medical students, or any other local arsonist who, when we were young, alarmed entire neighborhoods? The US government is fast becoming innocent.

What can be confirmed about objects that are magnetized? Today, seen intact, they are larvae; they are so low and earthy and bestial, they bark and sway, a good man or a poet rejects those who approach them, as if they were their tormentors one day. But tomorrow, the great spirit has opportunity to approach them happily and unsuspectingly, and they receive its light and influence in all the channels of their being and are filled with it, enriched and ennobled by this virtue, they are divine, and he is doubly himself. It seems that the land has immediately emerged from its primordial curse and that a new day has dawned.

Great causes are never judged, attacked, or defended on their merits: they require such a long perspective, and the habits of the race are marked by a strong predilection for particulars. At stake is Europe or Asia, and the battle is over some scorned village or doghouse. A man shares a new light that illuminates the world and promises the establishment of the kingdom of heaven - and ends up baking unleavened bread or tending to his beard, or making a fool of himself about his hat or his shoes. Man is provided with this ultimate box of instruments, senses, perceptual and executive skills, and they betray him every day. He transfers his allegiance from Instinct and God to this clever little committee. The man is exaggerated. In every conversation you see how the main objective is still lost sight of by all but the best, and with little to no apology, a digression into a squeaking door or a buzzing fly. What heavenly eloquence could hold an audience's attention when a child cried! A man who has a truth to express is carried away by the beauty of his own words and ends up becoming a poet or a critic. And Genius sacrifices for talent every day.

[Here follows a passage about Osman, the ideal man, and his broad hospitality towards people half-mad for bad reforms, which was printed in the last pages of "Manir".]


Genius is very good, but it is involved and undermined by Wonder. The last fact is still the Astonishment, - mute, abysmal, limitless, endless astonishment. When we meet an intelligent soul, all we want to ask them - say it however we like - is, 'Brother, have you ever wondered? Have you seen the Fact?” Leaving the forest where we have always lived, unexpectedly in the ocean, surprises us, because it is a symbol of that....

Originality.All originality is relative.

Young people complain that everything around them must be denied, and therefore, if they are weak, they need all their strength to deny, before they can lead their own lives. Aunt Betsey and Uncle Gulliver insist on their respect for this Sabbath and for that Rollin's History or Fragment Society or some other school, or charity, or morning visit, which, to preserve their integrity, they resist.

Nature never struggles with the difficulties language encounters in expressing it.

Man generates man who generates man, regardless of the world of contradictions that the metaphysician finds in this simultaneous procession of body, soul and mind.

Is character an educated will? "But bad thoughts," said M., "who would dare to reveal all the thoughts of an hour?" Really! this is bad? I admit that I must not voluntarily open a window in my breast to a witness worse than I am and less intelligent, but to a witness more intelligent and more virtuous than I am, or as intelligent and well-meaning, I have nothing against revealing my heart.

It is certainly the progress of character in that direction, namely, to introduce Beauty, the order of Beauty, into that invisible and private world of my thoughts, and to make them public and celestial in my discipline. It is part of my friendship to convey your goodness and sacred boundaries to my quiet solitude, and not to confuse the distinctions in my imagination which I respect in my reason.


The vast majority of people are not original, because they are not primary, they have not made their own vows, but they are secondary - they grow and age by doing and following; and when they die, they worry to the last about what others will think and whether Mr. A and Mr. B will attend the funeral. The poet broke the pieces and arrived at the all-embracing miracle: moreover, he conspired with a high aim and felt the holy joy with which man discovers the final unity of the Seer and the spectacle...

As for poetry too. There is really only one miracle, the permanent fact of Being and Becoming, the incessant prominence, the passage from the Great to the particular, that miracle, one and the same, whose most universal name is the wordSwamp.Take a step or two or three where you like, from any fact in Nature or Art, and you are at the end of that fact; as you can penetrate the forest in any direction and go straight, you will reach the sea. But all the details of the poet's merit, his sweetest rhythms, his subtlest thoughts, his richest images, if you could pass it into your consciousness, nay, if you could exalt your consciousness, would be arranged in a common chemistry of thought. , and obey the laws of the cheapest mental combinations.

In every moment of action and passion, you have to be human, you have to be the entire Olympus of the gods. I caught you, O Waldo Emerson, last night, running page after page of a little book by a certain Menzel, panting and straining to feel some multitude, better or worse, of German authors. I thought you knew better. Join, sit fast, be quiet.

antitranscendentalistasHowever, we shouldn't blame those protesting these refineries. It comes from one of two causes: either an instinctive fear that this philosophy endangers sensual propriety and comfort; or distrust the sincerity and virtue of people who preach the impractical elevation of life.

If from the beginning it is a good sign, a hymn to innovators who must encourage them. And let them not be too anxious to show men how their new world will be realized, but let them know that as the Lord lives, all will be well with those who obey the spiritual law.

If of the second, - well, perhaps the world is right and the reformer is not healthy. There's also an instinct about it. In vain do you gild gold and whiten snow in your sermon, if, when I see you, I do not look with your pure eye upon the company of angels and angelic thoughts within me.

No man can write anything who does not think that what he is writing for that age is the history of the world,... or do anything good who does not think his work is of the highest importance. My work may not belong to anyone, but I shouldn't think about anything, otherwise I won't do it with impunity.

Whoever does what he thinks is bad is bad.

How beautifully we are told in Hebrew history that the Lord's anger was kindled against David because he took a census. Philosophy also takes inventory of its possessions: and the inventory is pride: it is a negative state. But poetry is always affirmative, and prayer is affirmative.

How many lives are affirmative? How many dare to show the whole hand? For the most part, we hide and avoid each other's inquisition as best we can. I am for the preservation of all those religious writings which in their origin were poetic and ecstatic expressions of which the first user did not know what he was saying, but were spoken through him and from above, not from his level; things which appeared to be a happy accident, but which were no more fortuitous than the human race, are a fortuitous formation. "It is necessary," says Iamblichus, "that the ancient prayers, like the sacred ones, should always be preserved the same, without taking anything from them or adding to them anything that has been performed elsewhere." This is, no doubt, the reason why Homer declares that Jove loved the Ethiopians. And Iamblichus answered the question, "Why do we prefer meaningful names like barbarian to our own?" says, among other reasons: "Barbarian names have much emphasis, great conciseness, and less ambiguity, variety and multitude, and then: "But barbarians are stable in their manners, and steadily continue to use the same words. Therefore they are dear to the gods and speak words that are grateful to them." The ancients also spoke of the Egyptians and Chaldeans as "holy nations".

Thus, the words "God", "Mercy", "Prayer", "Heaven", "Hell" are those barbaric and sacred words, to which we still have to return, whenever we want to speak in an ecstatic and universal sense. ? There are objections to them, no doubt, for academic use, but when the professorial garments are removed, Man will return to them.

Granite comes to the surface and rises to the highest mountains, and if we could dig it, we would find it under all the layers of the surface...

The question of property calls for seers... The staunchest Whig and the poorest philosopher are all on the side of property, all support the current abuse, all proprietary or envious: no one is on the other side, no one can give us any insight into it. the remedy, none deserves to be heard against the property; only Love, only the Idea, is on the right side against the Property we hold.

Good scholar, what are you for if not hospitality to each new thought of your time? If you have property, if you have free time, if you have accomplishments and a look of mastery, you will be the Patron of every new thought, of every inexperienced project that is born of good will and honest research. Newspapers will, of course, vilify what is noble, and what are they for but opposing newspapers and all other languages ​​today? Thou belongest not to this day, but to an age, as the raptured and truly great man belongs to all ages or to Eternity. If you depend on newspapers, where is the scholar?

Insinuations, fragments, glimpses of enough people and more than enough, but courageous people who can carry out a project that they did not learn from anyone, but that was born with them, there are not. Perfect and realize for yourself Orson, if he be Orson; Valentine's Day, if Valentine's Day. Let's at least see a good Orson and find out the best and worst of him.

(the H)


Queenie's dream of a statue so beautiful that the blossoming child in the next room looked pale and pale, and of the statue's speech, which wasn't exactly speech either, but something better, that at last sounded identical to the thing that she spoke herself. The pretty girl who sat beside her, and whose face flushed with her earnest attention, described - life and existence; -and then, with a few light movements of head and body, she gave the most powerful image of decay, death and decay, and then again became all resplendent with signs of resurrection. I thought that was a fair description of that eloquence we are all entitled to - right? - that it will not be an empty story, but the suffering of the action and the action it describes. It will make listeners intentional and privileged.

Blue dome edged in silver with mountains of snow.

(de G)

November 22.

EdithsA young woman entered the house, but she looked more than a thousand years old. She walked into the house naked and helpless, but she had more than the strength of millions to defend herself. She brought the customs overnight.

[On the second day of December, Mr. Emerson began lecturing in "The Times" at the Masonic Temple in Boston:

I, - "Introduction", was printed in the first volume of the Acts as "Lesson about the times"; II, — , "Conservative"; III, "The Poet" (a large part of it is in "Poesia e Imaginação", dSpeeches eu BiographicalIV, "Transcendentalist"; V, "Modes"; VI, "Character"; VII, "Relationship with nature"; VIII, "Perspectives".]

(of J)

Robin napa.Little John asks Robin “Where are we going? Where are we going? Where are we going to steal, beat and tie?" Robin says:-

"Look, don't hurt your husband

He cultivates it with his plow.

"These bishops and these archbishops

You will beat and bind them;

The High Sheriff of Nottingham,

Keep that in mind.”

When Jones Very was at Concord he said to me: “I have always felt when I heard you speak or read your writings that you saw the truth better than others, but I felt that your spirit was not right. It was as if a vein of colder air had blown over me." He seemed to expect me to recognize and fully participate in his mission. Seeing this, I asked him if he did not see that my thoughts and position were constitutional, that it would be false and impossible for me to say his stuff or try to occupy his territory as if he were usurping mine?" After an honest and thorough explanation, he admitted. Later, when I ran into him one night at my talk in Boston, I invited him to come With me to Mr. Adams's house and sleep, which he did. He slept in the room next to mine. The next day, very early in the gray dawn, he came into my room and talked while I dressed. He said: "When I was at Concord, I tried to say you were right; but the spirit said, you were wrong. It's like I said, It's not morning; but the morning says, It's morning."

"Use any language you like," he said, "you can never say anything but what you are."

All writing is by the grace of God. People don't deserve to write well, they're so satisfied with bad. I cannot find any beauty in these sentences you show me, because I see death in every sentence and every word. There is a fossil figure or mummy that permeates this book. The best tombs, the greatest catacombs, Thebes and Cairo, the pyramids, are tombs for me. I love gardens and nurseries. Give me initiative, spermatic, prophetic and creative words.

I'm probably a better spectator because I'm such an indifferent actor. Some who heard or read my accounts misjudged me as a good actor in a scene I could describe so well; but when they came to talk to me, even those who thought they sympathized with me found that I was as stupid to them as I was to everyone else. In this, both I and they must be passive and condescending, and take our wealth. And now that I've said that, I won't suffer from this misfortune anymore.

It never pays to worry people about your regrets. We throw away our nonsense and nonsense as quickly as the beetles fall in July and abandon the apple tree they so threatened. Nothing dies as quickly as a mistake and the memory of a mistake. I am clumsy, sour, moody, rude, pedantic, and extremely unpleasant and oppressive to the people around me. However, if I am born to write a few good lines or verses, they will last and my woes will completely disappear from memory.

A woman should not be expected to write, wrestle, build or compose music; she does everything by inspiring man to do everything. The poet meets his expectant eyes in all his odes, the sculptor his god, the architect his house. She looks at him. She is a demanding genius.

We are looking for self-sustainability, no less.

The stalwart Reformer arose from his bed of moss and dry leaves, bit his roots and drank the waters, and went to Boston. There he met beautiful girls who smiled kindly at him, then gentle mothers with their children at their breasts who told them how much love they carried and how confused they were in their daily walk. What! he said, and in rich, embroidered rugs, with fine marble and precious wood!

Who is so high as to receive a gift well? We are happy or regretful for the gift...

(of J)

December 12.

We cannot forgive others for not being ourselves. However, not everything is my dream right now; but this too, that confirmation in itself is good, and I think this is as much in what is called Whiggery as in Protestantism, for the latter falls under cold reproaches, and love is confirmation. Whigs love; Protestants have a lot to hate. Loyalty is an affirmation; Idleness is negation. But off to your exhibits! There is a bit of imagination and ostentation in his talk. Those who think so much about action have nothing to say, no rhetoric they like, but it is elementary, strong. It's like that great amount of heat that ice absorbs turning into water without any marking on the thermometer...

And yet, Raphael's painting is bold and beautiful, affirming andSummer Solstice nightand every thought of mine I speak with naturalness and joy. Let me not be witty, but only faithful, bold and happy, and I will turn all nature astray.

We waste time trying to be like others, blaming ourselves for not being like others. If something surprises us out of our correction, we behave well and strongly, because in our fear we lose the memory of others.

Those who defend the establishment are smaller than it. Those who speak from thought must always be greater than any actual fact. I see nothing powerful behind the Whig, nothing more than the banal fact of their land titles and stock certificates. But through the theorist's eyes, looking back at me is a terrifying, gigantic spirit that will not be undone if I command it, that has much more to say and do than it has said, and that can do great things as easily as small. .

At the feudal table, the humblest serf sat in the company of his lord, and thus had a certain compensation for his servitude in the education he had acquired thanks to the show of intelligence, grace, and courage of his superiors.

Mr. Frost thought there wouldn't be many of these thugs who declared themselves against the state, etc. I told him he was like the good man from Noah's neighbors who said, “Go thunder with your old ark! I don't think there will be many showers.”

Osman.It seemed to me that I was keeping a secret too big to be entrusted to a man; that a divine man dwelt near me in a hollow tree.

Dandi,Godelureauin French, Napoleon's favorite word. Napoleon was calm, serious, and well calculated to bear the gaze of millions: and d'Abrantès describes the brightness of his smile.

And cakes skillfully forged by women's hands,

Well submerged in the liquid of the golden-winged bee.


And I would only be aware of the sin;

They calmly endure the deserved punishment.

Ovid,amor2, VII, 11.

Historians of the Reformation are not necessarily fans of the Reformation among their contemporaries.

Among the forces of circumstances, none is as striking as the provocation of opinion in certain companies. Each skill can be learned on its own, such as composure and good behavior in all companies; but the best way is to be inspired by a feeling which will ennoble unintentional conduct.

A man will rise who eats the food of angels; who, working for universal ends, finds himself fed he knows not how, and clothed he knows not how, and yet his own hands make it. The squirrel gathers nuts and the bee gathers honey, each not knowing what he is doing, and so they sustain themselves, without any degradation or selfishness. I should see in a man that he is adorned, beyond this innocence, with conscious efforts for the common good.

Trees extract nineteen-twentieths of their food from their aerial roots, leaves.

Opis anddo Romanismo para Tieck, Winckelmann, Schlegel, Schelling, Montaigne, Dan, Coleridgeman.

Midsummer night's fun can easily seem profane to me, and I shall regret ever having enjoyed such toys: and Dante must languish before the great life and show himself a permissible greatness.

Those who are used to leading are not completely indifferent if their word or deed for the first time is not important for society. However, a human being always has the compensation of acting religiously and then switchingshinein the company of his city, by reputation and weight in the company of the universe.

Every word we speak has a million faces or can be turned into an indefinite number of applications. Were it not so, we could not read any books. Your observation would only fit your case, not mine. And Dante, who described his situation, would be incomprehensible now. But a thousand readers in a thousand different years will read his story and find in it an image of their own story, making, of course, a new application of each word.

All Bernard's sagacity and study did not allow him to answer M. de Gulliver's question. Once, twenty times. Mr. de Gullivere was anxious to ask scholars for the information he surely should have given; but poor Bernardo always wondered if he should not have been told just this particular fact. Afterwards he found that it was the same with his actions: he was very able and very willing to do a thousand things: but for the particular action which was now to be done he was not ready: and so he played with everyone. people in this world. Another thing that Bernardo noticed, and said to Xavier, - who was convinced that he had received the Sorbonne laurel by chance, and not by right: "For I", he said, "was not created by nature to be a native genius , but to take advantage of the genius of others. They made me read Virgil, and not write my own Bucolicas; for whenever I have anything to say, it is dressed in the language of some poet or author I read, or perhaps one of my friends with whom I I talk every day. Thought wasn't born strong enough to put on."

The loan, it seems, is being cancelled...


We believe in the existence of matter, not because we can touch it or imagine it, but because it agrees with us, and the Universe is not kidding us, it really is.

A man who has earned a reputation for being benevolent in his spending! big mistake...

As much as one person influences us, we are so few. The presence or absence of Milton will very sensibly affect the outcome of human history: the presence or absence of Jesus, how greatly! Well, tomorrow a new man may be born who, like Milton, will not be indebted to the Old, and will be more completely devoted to the New than he was, though dressed in beauty like him.

When we take a stand on Necessity or on Ethics, shall we follow the Conservative or the Reformer?... The view of Necessity is always benevolent, it admits of wit and kindness. The vision of Liberty is sour and dogmatic. Both can be equally free from personal consideration. us if we do not preach the gospel.

I like spontaneous people of both classes: and those on the conservative side have as much truth and progressive power as those on the liberal side.

Don't be so big on your only objection. Do you think there is only one? If I had to leave the church every time I heard a false opinion, I couldn't stay there even five minutes...

According to Boehmen, the world was nothing more than the imprint of the seal of the invisible world hidden in his own chest. (See Penhoen, vol. i, p. 123.)

When, in our dissatisfaction with the pedantry of scholars, we favor the planters, and when, doubting their conservatism, we listen to the harsh words of the bloodhounds and the Irish, it is only subjective or relative criticism, that is a lie to us. too much acid or shade to our sun; but stick with them and you'll find out right away that they're the very people you left behind. The coat tricked you.

What a plague this doubt is. We are so keen - that we are wretched, and, as E. H. says, we can neither read Homer nor fail to read it.

"Kepler's science was a strange union of that high science of antiquity which was created in inspiration of that modern science which measures, compares, analyses." (Penha.)

Leibnitz predicted zoophytes; Kant predicted asteroids; Newton's decomposition of diamond; Swedenborg, Uranus. (Penhoen, vol. i, p. 159.)

They say that mathematics leaves the mind where it found it. What if life or experience did the same?

Writing is also a skill and leaves a person where he found it. And Literature and Nature and Life.

All that a man has, he will give for his erect posture, never to be ashamed again, - society measures it. I go to you and expand, and I go to another and I shrink.

Look out the window and it's the Eternal Now. Look at men's faces and they change by the minute.

Reading Herrick, I feel how rich nature is. This poetic art, - I see there is enough work and beauty here to justify a man leaving all else and sitting with the muses. Didn't Caesar say to the Egyptian priest: Come, I'll leave the army, the empire and all if you show me the sources of the Nile? Well, all topics are indifferent: you can get to the center by drilling the shaft from any point on the surface, just as easily. And yet, in this example of poetry, the provocation is not that the Law is there, but that the means are tempting.


(Including also books mention you

Vishnu Sarna; Zoroaster; Confucius; Hesiod; Heraclitus; Empedocles; Squirrel; Platothe banqueteuPhaedrus;Aristophanes; Aristotle; Ovid,Ars lovers;Lucan,Pharsalia;Hermes Trismegistus; Plotinus; Porphyr (Taylor),Already Abstinence of Animal Food;Jamblih,Life of Pythagoras;Synesium; Proklo; Olympiadorus; RobertWace;T)ante, Paradise;Received; Hafiz; Monsters; Froissart,Chronicle;Ariosto; Rabelais; Free Paolo Sarpi; Kepler; Burton; boehmeo Aurora;Herrick; Izaak Walton; Mural; Dryden; Locke; Leibniz,alreadyPenhô; Fontenelle; Rollin,History;Bentley; Thomas Hearne; Pitt (senhor Chatham); Winckelmann,History of Ancestral Until;Merck,Correspondence s Goethe;Laplace; Raposa; William Pitt; Goethe; burns; St. Simon; Dodington; the duchess of Abrantès,or Souvenirs already oitd.; konzerviranje; Shelley; Southey; Schleiermacher; mlatilice; Tieck; Schelling; Menzel,alreadyGeorge RipleySamples of pages Literature;Ritter; Sir William Edward Parry,arctic trips;Carlos Cordeiro,Essay;Manzoni,!promised just married;Dr Channing,miltoneuNapoleon;Carlyle,heroes eu Hero French Revolution;Nichol,Architecture of o Or;gospođice Edgeworth,Romani;Beranger,Songs;Jorge Areia,cards;from Tocqueville; barchon de penhoen,History of German Philosophy of Leibniz to do Hegel;Westland Martin,O patrick s Daughter;Robert P. Ward,Of Clifford;Tennyson,O Locksley Hall;Hawthorne; Frederic Henry Hedge; William Lloyd Garrison.








em 1842

(From E, J, K and N magazines)

He gave me a book and wrapped me in a dress.


[It's a happy open year. A daughter (Edith) must have joined the family. Little Ellen, the eldest, was successful. Waldo, who is now five years old, gave his father and mother every promise for the future, while

"The kindest guardians marked by serenity

His initial hope, his liberal outlook,"

for every friend that came to the house, and Henry Thoreau, who was then one of the family members, was delighted with the child. Mr. Emerson went to Boston once a week, on the stage outside his door, giving the last lectures of the course in "The Times". The boy was suddenly stricken with malignant scarlet fever and lived but a few days. Bent over by the blow, Emerson still had to fulfill his speaking engagements in Providence as well as a short course in New York. It was a happy diversion for him, away from the societies that welcomed him home at every turn, and he met new and sincere young friends at the lectures. His brother William, with his good and refined wife (Susan Haven of Portsmouth), welcomed him into their home on Staten Island. About him Mr. Emerson wrote to his wife: "William is not an isolated man such as I have met or loved before, but under the name 'judge' he seems to be an important part of the web of life here on the island."]

(of J)

January28 of 1842.

Last night at a quarter past eight my little Waldo took his life.

January 30.

What he was looking at was better; what he didn't look at is insignificant. On Friday morning I woke up at three o'clock and every rooster in every yard was crowing with the most unnecessary noise. The sun rose in the morning sky with all its light, but the landscape was disgraced by this loss. Because that boy, in whose memory I slept and woke up so many times, memorized the morning star, the evening cloud, let alone all the details of daily economy; for he touched with his lively curiosity every trifling fact and circumstance in the house, the hard coal and the soft coal I put in my furnace; firewood, of which he brought his small share for his grandmother's fire; the hammer, tongs and file he used so fondly; the microscope, the magnet, the little globe, and all the little things and instruments in the study; gravel mounds in the meadow, nests in the chicken coop, and lots and lots of occasional visits to the doghouse and barn. “He had his own name and way of thinking, his own pronunciation and way of everything. And every word came out of that language. A boy of precocious wisdom, serious and even majestic demeanor, perfect tenderness.

Every bum that ever roamed is abroad, but the little feet are still there.

He relinquished his innocent little breath like a bird.

He dictated a letter to his cousin Willie on Monday night, to thank him for the magic lamp he had sent him, and said, "I would like you to tell Cousin Willie that I have so many gifts that I don't need them that he should send them to me." me more, unless he wants it badly."

The boy was in full swing in this world; never, I think, had a child so much fun; his parents and the people around him totally respected him and didn't bother him; and he was very fortunate so far as influences near him were concerned, for his aunt Elizabeth had adopted him from infancy, and always treated him with that simple, wise love which belonged to her, and, as she boasted, never gave him sugar. plums. So he was conquered by her and always marked her arrival as a visit to him, and left little friends, toys and everything for her. So Mary Russell was his friend and teacher for two summers, with true love and wisdom. So Henry Thoreau had been part of the family the year before, and he had delighted Waldo with a variety of toys - whistles, boats, pipes - and all kinds of instruments he could make and repair; and he possessed their love and respect by the tender firmness with which he always treated him. Margaret Fuller and Caroline Sturgis also tagged the boy and hugged and talked to him whenever they were here.

Meanwhile, every day his grandmother gave him reading lessons and patiently taught him to read and spell; with patience and love, because she loved him very much.

Pain makes us children again, - destroys all differences of reason. The wisest know nothing.

It seems that I should invoke the winds to describe my boy, my boy who withdraws quickly, a child of such a large and generous nature that I cannot paint him in detail as I would anyone else.

"Are there other countries?"

"Yes. I want you to mention the other countries"; so I went on to name London, Paris, Amsterdam, Cairo, etc. of an answer; they were the same ones that would make you wonder."

He called the parts of the playhouses he always built pretty, pretty names, like "interspeglium" and "coridaga", which names, Margaret said, "the children couldn't understand".

If I go down to the bottom of the garden, it looks like someone has fallen into the creek. Every place is good or tolerable where he was. Once he sat on the bench.

He proposed to build his house in summer with thistles and in winter with snow.

"My song," he said, "makes the thunder dance," as it thundered when he blew his willow whistle.

"Mom, can I have this bell I made to hang over my bed?"

"Yes, you can stay there."

“But, Mother, I'm afraid this will upset you. It can be played in the middle of the night and will be heard across the city; he will be taller than ten thousand hawks; will be heard across the water and in every country. It will be heard around the world. It will sound like a big thing of glass falling and everything shattering.”

Masses; Is the cohesive force the same as the force of gravity? Is the law of masses the same as the law of particles? And there is a certain mass momentum that I easily recognize in literature. Chaucer works on me when I read too many pagesRomaunt of AmororCanterbury Storiesfor its mass, as much as for the merit of individual passages. Similarly, Shakespeare does extraordinary things: he adds to the architecture the preciousness of the materials and the beauty of the individual chambers and chapels. Milton too. So, as I observed from Pythagoras, I feel about all the great masters that they differ mainly in their power to add a second, a third, and perhaps a fourth step in a continuous line. Many men have taken the first step. With each additional step, you increase the value of your first one immensely. It's like the price jockeys sometimes put on a horse; a price is agreed upon in the barn, and then it is turned into pasture and allowed to roll, and each time it rolls by itself ten dollars is added to the price.

Mass again. If you approach the White Mountains, you cannot see them; you have to walk thirty or forty miles to get a good view. Well, it's the same with men, and with all the good things in our lives, it's a total and far-reaching effect,tempoit guides us, not their first fear.

So our intercourse with our friends is not merely one of special good services, but one of the purest pleasures in life is the mutual consciousness of a long and even exchange of good services between two people; so that a good man seems to derive from his capital of love simple and compound interest, and a special and mass benefit from his good works.

Will is special, habit is a tremendous force; The speech is special, the manners of the masses.

Carry your body so I can see it. You keep showing me that mask.

I saw a poor boy, when he came to a bunch of violets in the forest, he knelt on the ground, smelled them, kissed them and left without picking them.

As if I needed eyes to see. Look at that tree which the sun took from the earth by its unceasing love and longing for him, and which now spreads a hundred branches, a thousand branches, in gratitude, basking in its presence. Can't you see it? He sees everywhere, with every leaf and every flower.

I'm not a man to read books, but I receive what books write to communicate, said the poet.

My thoughts run in vain trying to reach those distant people. Then I see facts or objects that serve as horses. My every thought grabs one of them and, since I'm mounted, it goes straight to the people.

When Osman came to read Proclus's page, he was eager to read and wanted to hear the sound of the cottage horn so that he could put into practice what he had learned about the elegance of dancing in a temperate life, but the horn delayed his call. , he thought that his moderation should now begin, and would establish peace and order in his thoughts.

Exercises are also good. They can help you to embitter well, if not empathize; better than moderation", as. Proclus would say. Longbeards and Shortbeards, who came here the other day with the intention, it seems, of making us artesian wells, have taught me one thing.

Ben Jonson is tough and Tennyson is good, but Ben's looks are better than Tennyson's...

My life is optical, not practical. I go for a walk for exercise, not out of necessity. I speculate on virtue no worse than love. Isn't it like examining Michael and Gabriel through binoculars?

It would be easy, wouldn't it, to give each meeting its own color and character if your intelligence and acumen were better than those of the speakers? Wait for the noisy man to finish, then speak and leave him out: he will feel left out. It will happen there what happens in every hall, that the lesser will yield to the greater and feel that his contribution is unnecessary.

Such a feeling that dwells in these purple depths of Proclus turns each page into a marble slab, and the book looks monumental. What magnificent dreams and projects they propose. They show what literature should be. Rarely, rarely, does the Imagination awaken; only he knows astronomy and geology, the laws of chemistry and animation. He, the Imagination, knows why the plain or meadow of the Universe is strewn with those flowers which we call suns, moons and stars: why the great Abyss is decorated with animals, men and Gods; because in every word he utters he rides on them as on the horses of his thoughts.

Reading this, I see that a man should give up writing to his citizens or countrymen and express his history and spiritual movements in images that have a personal meaning for him.

A lady came in with as much distance, awkwardness or disgust on her face as she could bear. All her speech was in the dialect of her church, unintelligible to others as fast talk. Such a person ceases to be a woman to be a member of the church, and is necessarily treated like a madman in all companies. However, everyone should respect her eminent truth.

Nature is very clear in her teachings on one point, that you must not accept anybody's person; for as much as it distinguishes any man by intelligence or character, it deforms him in the same measure in some particular eyes.

And you see, Shakespeare's mountainous grandeur is given to a man of ordinary life, and not to himself, it seems, conscious of his possessions.

(the K)

Friday night,February4.

I heard that Sheridan did a good jobexperimental writingwith a view to taking what might fall out, if any intelligence appeared on all the waste pages. I, in my dark hours, can scratch the page, If by chance some hour in my recent life I can project a hand from the darkness and write a record. Twice today it has seemed to me that the truth is our only armor in all the passages of life and death... I will speak the truth also in the secret of my heart, or,to meditate o trueagainst what is called God. Born and raised as we are in the traditions, we easily find ourselves in a situation where we deny what we hold sacred. I must resist tradition, however subtle and intrusive, and say: Truth against the universe. Truth has its once-in-a-century vacation, when it releases its children in triumph for all souls.

Saturday morningFebruary5.

There are many gross and obscure natures whose bodies look impure like ruins or groceries, but character makes flesh and blood lovely and alive. Sweet devotion to the Supreme Law enshrines youth and old age alike, ennobles the whole body, gives grace to wrinkles and gray hair... Character, in short, is conquest, and if there is noe,no character.

February 21.

Back home from Providence to an abandoned house. Dear friends, find me, but the wonderful Boy is gone. What a desire for miracles! As her entry into the room we are in would not surprise Ellen, it seems to me the most natural of all.

In Providence I met Charles Newcomb, who made me happy with his conversations and reading his stories.

March 18.

Home from New York, where I read six lectures in the Times, namely, Introductory; Poet; Hard to kill; transcendentalist; Ways; Panorama. They were read in the "Library of the Society", three or four hundred people attended, and after all expenses were paid they brought me about two hundred dollars.

In New York I met Henry James, John James, William Greene, Mrs. Rebecca Black, Thomas Truesdale, Horace Greeley, Albert Brisbane, J. L. H. McCracken, Mr. Field, Maxwell, Mason, Nathan, Delph, Eames, as well as Bryant and Miss Sedgwick, whom I already knew.

Letters from loved ones found me there. My talks were as well received there as they were elsewhere: very good and poetic, but a little muddled. Someone thought he was "as good as a kaleidoscope". Another, a good Staten Islander, would listen, "because he heard I was a rattlesnake."

March 20.

OTo chooseit must be maintained or terminated, and I must settle the question, it seems, of its life or death. I want him to live, but I don't want to be his life. Nor do I like to hand it over to Humanity and the Reformers, because they trample letters and poetry underfoot; nor in the hands of scholars, because they are dead and dry. I don't likeSimple SpeakeralsoEdinburgh Analysis.The spirit of the latter may be conventional and artificial, but the spirit of the former is rough, sour, poor, lives in a basement kitchen, and commits suicide.

In New York, Thomas Delf modestly asked, as if the question weighed heavily on his conscience, whether there might not beTo chooseat least one article that should be a statement of principles, good for doctrine, good for teaching, so that it is both firm and clear to the eye of the constant reader and an advanced evolution of truth. A very reasonable question.

Life goes on...

When I read Lord of the Island last week in Staten Island and met my friend, I felt the same shame that I had allowed myself to be a mere hunter and follower. Why are you upset, oh dear?

Lately in New York, as in cities in general, we seem to be losing all substance and becoming surfaces in a world of surfaces. Everything is external, and I remember my hat and coat, and all my other surfaces, and nothing else. If a reasonable question is suddenly directed at me, what a refreshment and relief! I visited twice and parted with a very polite lady, giving her no reason to believe she had found anything in me other than a range of surfaces, like the whole of Broadway. Still hurts.

"What are brothers for?" said Charles G. Loring, when someone praised the man who helped his brother. William Emerson is a faithful brother.

The smallest differences of intellect are immeasurable. This beloved and now deceased Child, this beautiful Painting everywhere, how it expands in its dimensions in this beautiful memory to the dimensions of Nature!

Ellen asks her grandmother "Couldn't God be alone with the angels for a while and let Waldo come down?"

The chrysalis that he brought with care and tenderness and gave to the mother to keep is still alive, but he, the fairest of the children of men, is gone.

I understand nothing of this fact, except its bitterness. I have no explanation, no consolation that comes from the fact itself; turning only; just forgetting about it and looking for new objects.

March 23.

Today, Nelly thinks that "the snow is on the ground and the trees are white as a tablecloth and white as roasted corn."

A scholar is a man who is worth no more than another man in the street; just as the sound of a flute is not louder than the sound of a saw. But as the note of a flute is heard at a greater distance than any noise, the fame of a scholar extends farther than the merits of a banker.

Osric has always been great in the present tense....

Tecumseh: AA cultured and clerical person, with a deft ear, and with Scott and Campbell in full possession of his memory, he wrote this poem with a feeling that the delight he experienced in Scott's efficient list of names could be reproduced in America from the enumeration of sweet or sonorous indigenous names. The costume, as is common in all these essays, displaces man from nature. The most Indian thing about an Indian is certainly not his moccasins or calumet, his wampum or his stone axe, but traits of character and wisdom, skill or passion, which would be intelligible to all men, and which Scipio or Sidney or Colonel Worth or Lord Clive would probably exhibit as Osceola and Black Hawk. As Johnson observes that there is a mean style in English above vulgarity and below pedantry, which is never out of date, and in which Shakespeare's plays are written, so there is a mean style in human language, peculiar to all nations, and spoken by the Indians and the French, so people are personal forces.

Colonel Worth recently declared Halleck Tastenugge one of the best officers in the infantry, and William Greene said he found the spirit among the Indians.

Hell is better than heaven if the man in hell knows his place and the man in heaven does not. It is in vain that you pretend that you are not responsible for a bad law because you are not a judge, nor a party to civil proceedings, nor a voter. You eat the law on a piece of bread, you wear it with a hat and shoes. A man is his attitude: attitude makes a man.

Instead of wondering if there is one Bible, I wonder if there aren't a thousand.

Working in the bare fields

Where no bush offers shelter,

Stoji of needy manpower hesitation,

He knocks and blows his numb hands,

And in the crushed snow

He taps in vain to warm his toes.

Though it is in vain to heat it,

Poverty must weather the storm;

Friendship has no help -

Constant health your only friend;

Leaving you to live in pain,

Giving strength to work in vain.


once a preacher. In the Civil War, Colonel Greene commanded the 14th Infantry M.V.

Brisbane, New York, pushed forward its Fourierism with all the power of memory, talent, honest faith and impudence. It was a sublime piece of mechanics….

Here are good Alcott's preparations to go to England, after as long and strict an acquaintance as I had with him for seven years. I first saw him in Boston in 1835.

What shall we say about him to the English sage?

He is a man of ideas, a man of faith. Expect scorn for any usage that is simply that. His social nature and his taste for beauty and magnificence will lead him to tolerance and indulgence even towards men and magnificence, but law or practice he is doomed to measure by his essential wisdom or folly.

He delights in speculation, in nothing so much, and is very well endowed and armed for that business with a voluminous, precise, and elegant vocabulary; may I say poetic; so I don't know a man who speaks English as well as he does and is also as inventive. He speaks the truth with sincerity; or the expression is suitable. However, he only knows that language. He hardly needs an antagonist - he just needs a smart ear. Where he is received by kind and intelligent people, his speech reaches a wonderful height, so regular, so lucid, so playful, so new and defying all limits of tradition and experience, that listeners seem to have no more body or gravity material. , but they can almost soar into the air at will or leap out of this poor solar system at any moment. I speak this exclusively of his speech, because when he tries to write, he loses, in my opinion, all his power, and I feel more pain than pleasure in reading him. OPostexpresses the feeling of most readers in his coarse joke, when he said of hisOrphic sayingsthat they "looked like a fifteen-car train with one passenger". Besides, he has more mind and temper in his speech, so that the mastery, moderation, and foresight, and yet success, with which he develops his thought, are not to be overcome. This is important for a novelty dealer as he is, and for someone who is seduced, as he often is, by adherents of old books or old institutions. He is so fond of the exercise of this faculty that he will readily talk all day, most of the night, and again tomorrow, for days on end, and if I, who am impatient for much talk, persuade him to go for a walk in the woods or in the fields, he stops at the first fence and quickly suggests that he sit down or go back. He seems to think that society exists for this function, and that all literature is good or bad as it approaches the colloquium, which is its perfection. Poems and stories can be good, but only as notes; and the only proper way to write the literature of a nation would be to gather the best leaders of the commonwealth, get them to speak, and then bring in stenographers to record what they say. He leans so readily and naturally on moral sentiments in every conversation that no man will ever derive any benefit from him unless he be a saint, as Jones Very was. All the other Alcotts will go wrong.

It must be admitted that he likes speculation more than action. Therefore, he does not satisfy everyone and displeases many. The conversation is over, it's over. He lives tomorrow, as he lived today, for later discussion, not to start, as he seemed to do, a new heavenly life. The ladies thought he liked cakes; very possible; most people do. However, in the last two years he has changed his way of life, which for such a Zeno might have been a little easy and self-indulgent, so much so that he has become ascetically moderate. He has no vocation for work, and though he preached vigorously for some time, and made some efforts to practice it, he soon found that he had no genius for it, and that it was a cruel waste of time. This depressed his spirit to the point of tears.

It is very noble in its behavior towards all people, it has a calm and noble appearance and behavior in the street and at home. Simple in manner, yet graceful and stately, with a great sense of his own worth, such that he would not willingly give his hand to a merchant, though he were never so rich - but with a strong love of men and an insatiable curiosity. over all who excelled in intellect or with their character. He is the most generous and hospitable of all men, so that he was as generous in his long poverty as Mr. Perkins was in his wealth, or should I say, much more generous. And because of his hospitality, anything in human form that came through his door as a suppliant became the owner of the whole house that was there. Furthermore, every man who converses with him instantly realizes that, although this person has neither skill nor patience for our trivial domestic affairs, yet, if there were great courage, great sacrifice, self-immolation, this and no other is the man. for the crisis - and that with such grandeur, but with such restraint in its appearance.

Such a man, with no talent for domestic needs, with none for action, and whose taste is just for what is rarest and most unattainable, could never be popular - could never be a doll, nor a beauty, nor a money-giver. or gifts, not even a model of good everyday life to offer virtuous young people. His greatness consists only in his attitude; of course, he found very few who would appreciate or value him; and many to despise him. Someone called him "the moral Sam Patch".

Another circumstance marks this extreme love of speculation. He carries in his hands all your opinions and all your condition and way of life, and as you talk to him it becomes clear that he has not taken root, but is an air plant, which can be carried easily and without any harm. . effects anywhere. He is ready at any moment to leave his current residence and job, his country, on the contrary, his wife and children, in a very short time, in order to translate into practice every new dream that has arisen in speech bubbles. If that's the case with your way of life, it's even more so with your opinion. He never remembers. He never confirms anything today because he already confirmed it before. You are quite surprised, leaving him in the morning with a set of opinions, to find him in the evening quite free from all recollection of them, as convinced of a new course of action and disregarding his old WHO he can.

Another effect of this speculation is that he is preternaturally cunning and resourceful to the point of being somewhat Jesuitical in his operations at times. He despises facts to such an extent that his poetic representations have the effect of falsehood, and those who are deceived by them ascribe the falsehood to him: and he sometimes plays with actions of no importance to him in a way that is not justified by any observer, but those who are competent to do justice to his real generosity and conscience.

Like all virtuous people, he is devoid of any semblance of virtue and thus shocks all virtuous people by the recklessness of his behavior and the enormity of his expressions...

This man dealt in his spirit with all the vast and magnificent problems. None came to him so highly recommended as the most universal. He was delighted with the story of Prometheus; in all the obscure and gigantic images of the most ancient mythology; in the Indian and Egyptian traditions; in the history of magic, palmistry, temperaments, astrology, everything that showed any impatience with customs and limits, any impulse to venture into the solution of the total problem of human nature, finding in each of these experiences an implicit promise and a prophecy of the worlds of science and power that are still unknown to us. He seems often to understand the images of the ancient alchemists: for he stood pensively on the verge of discovering the Absolute month after month, always and occasionally asserting that it was within his reach, and not in the least perplexed by the uniform defects.

Another bent of his mind was to bring about reform in man's life. It was a monotonous topic from years of conversation that kept coming back. This brought him into constant contact with planners and saints of all stripes, who preached or practiced any part or particle of reform, and into constant coldness, conflict, and lack of fellowship with the scholars and refined men usually found in the ranks of conservatism. Very soon the reformers he joined would disappoint him; they were miserable people, and in his rudeness and ignorance he began again to crave literary society. In these swings from scholar to reformer, and back again, he spent his days.

His vice, the intellectual vice, arose from this constitution and was one to which almost all Spiritualists are subject - a certain intrusion into private thoughts which produces monotony in conversation and selfishness in character. Constantly subjective himself, the variety of facts which seem necessary to the health of most minds gave him no variety of meaning, and he quickly ceased playing with objects in order to arrive atowhich has always been the same, i.e.Alcott you reference to do o World of Today.

From a stray leaf I copy this: —

Alcott sees human law truer and more comprehensive than anyone ever has. Unfortunately, his conversation never loses sight of his own personality. He never quotes; never mentioned; his only illustration is his own biography. Your topic yesterday is Alcott on October 17th; today, Alcott, October 18th; tomorrow the 19th. It will always be like this. The poet, raptured in future times or in the depths of nature which they themselves admire, lost in its law, enchants us with lively charm; but this noble genius discredits my genius. I don't want these people to exist anymore.

And the night visions? Our lives are so secure and regular that we hardly know the thrill of terror. Neither public nor private violence, nor natural disasters such as earthquakes, volcanoes or floods; nor the expectation of supernatural agencies in the form of spirits, or purgatory and demons and hellfire, disturb the slumbering circulation of our blood in these quiet and well-spoken days. And yet dreams present to us what the day leaves out. Eat a hearty dinner, make your bed tight, throw an extra quilt over your three blankets, and lie on your back, and you could have that neglected part of your education taken care of in an hour or two. To think: I found myself in the attic disturbed by the noise of someone sawing wood. As I walked towards the sound, I saw a madman I knew very well lying in a crib, and the noise stopped immediately: there was no saw, just a fluttering among some things, fur cloaks and empty baskets lying on the floor. When I tried to get closer, the muffs swelled up a little, as if from the wind, and flew into the corner of the attic, as if they were alive, and some animation appeared in all the objects in that corner. Seeing this, and instantly aware that here was Witchcraft, that here was the Devil's Will, which showed itself clearly in the commotion and sound of the wind, I could not move; my limbs were frozen with fear; I was brave and would have advanced, but I could not move my limbs; I eliminate a challenge I couldn't articulate and wake up to the ugly sound I made. After I woke up and recalled the impressions, my brain tingled with repeated vibrations of terror; and yet it felt pleasant, for it was a kind of rehearsal for a tragedy.

What place for Fourier's phalanxes, for great and distant schemes of happiness, when I can be surprised at any moment by pleasure?

It was Edward Palmer, with a little grace but a great deal of nobility, always uniting in his person and conversation truth, honesty, love, independence, and still listening to men and that credulity in Brisbane days, conventions and projects. His appearance is somehow very priestly and ecclesiastical. He looks like a universalist priest. But even if his intellect is somewhat low and limited, matter-of-fact and a good roadster, he still has great depth of character and grows on you. It was pathetic to hear about his small circle of six young men who met in a small room in Boston one night long ago and discussed their project.There's no moneyuntil all saw that it was true, and had a new faith in the Omnipotence of love. In Alabama and Georgia he seems to have stopped at every printing press, and the only signs of hope and comfort he found were newspapers, like the Brisbane ones he found in these dark universities. When will we see a man whose image merges with nature? so that when he leaves, this same little man will not be the least bit funny!

Edmund Hosmer is a noble creature, so virile, so kind, so faithful, so disdainful of all appearances, who always looks respectable and excellent to you in his shabby old cap and blue dress trodden with swamp slime, and makes you respect and honor him in everything. A man to deal with and who must always be careful not to be mistaken; with his admiration for his wife, tormented by the care of their poor house and ten children. Edmund says that when he first saw her he didn't realize that she was very different from other women, but now he thinks she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen! And then you start thinking too when you see her... at her home at her work, or hear her irrational stories about her sufferings and her actions, opinions and tastes.

Friendship, five people; What; An association and a great phalanx of the best of the human race...

Opus super sticksaid the Transcendentalist to the man who gave him the money: or, All my care is with expenses.

"The devil is God's bulldog", said the good Barca Negra.

April 3.

"Parmenides showed that the peculiarity of divine souls consists in their being younger and at the same time older than themselves and other things." — PROCL.

The population of the world is a conditional population. These are not the best, but the best that could live in the existing state of soil, gases, animals and morals.

Will new thinking turn England's majesty to tatters?

From the wisest man's doctrine an enormous deduction must be made to arrive at its truth. All his dogmatics are mere platitudes and grammar. What a mass of stupidity in St. Paul, and again in Swedenborg, which has nothing to do with the rain, the sun, and the bird. However, the truth will lose its grip, as will faith, once you are clean.

He should not see the poorest culinary oven, but he saw its relation to the mercy which is the source of nature.

Swedenborg is a true poet. In his eyes, everything blends together... In his eyes, the eternal course of things is always unfolding, there is no material core, only a spiritual center.

April 5.

Alcott brought here today a manuscript written by his brother Junius, which contained three good things, - first, that it was an Oration, written in this prayerless age; second, to thank God for their continued love for each other; and thirdly, he gives thanks for the knowledge he has gained about himself from his children.

'True; They do.Aren't you scared when you see that gypsies are more attractive to us than apostles? Because, while we love the good, not theft, we also love freedom, not preaching.

The weakest child is a channel through which flows an enormous energy that we call life, destiny, love, conscience, thought, hope, feeling.

I began to write about poetry and immediately thought of Swedenborg as the person who, of all men in recent times, is the pre-eminent translator of nature into thought. I don't know a man in history whose words fit together so evenly. Metamorphosis continuously plays in front of him. And if there are psychology museums in Heaven, the most experienced angel could hardly find a better example than Swedenborg's brain of the tendency to interpret morals in material terms. "..

Swedenborg never shows any emotion, - a cold and unfeeling man.

What we admire is the magnificent and beautiful Necessity that made him see these Heavens and Hells of his. Heaven, which has surpassed your and every human mind in proportion to each one's apprehension, is more excellent than the image of it; hell, which is his negation, is more terrible than he managed to draw.

Swedenborg will be a very dangerous study for anyone but a mind of great elasticity. Like Napoleon as a military leader, a master of such an extraordinary nature, that no one else can influence, who must be a god to the young and enthusiastic.

April 6.

After I once learned that greatness can be contained in a single thing, however outwardly small, so that in doing so everything is one as if I had built the world; By this I was taught that each thing in nature must represent the whole of nature; and that anything that did not represent sea and sky, day and night, was forbidden or wrong.


Celestial exiles strayed from the orb of light.


Pericles, the father of these youths, taught them beautifully and well those things which were taught by teachers; but in those things in which he is wise, he himself did not teach them, nor did he send them to another to teach him; but they, feeding themselves, as it were, without restraint, roam about, to see if by chance they can find virtue. — PLATO, inProtagoras.

You must never ask me what I can do. If you don't find my gift without asking, I have nothing for you. Would you ask a woman what makes her beautiful? Those who love her will not reveal it. These questions are just curiosity and gossip. Also, I can't tell you what my gift is unless you find it without my description.


That night the poet left

From the lighted halls

under the dark sky

By the sea, with the old walls.

Dark was the night on the seas,

Darker was the poet's mind;

For its shallow malleability

The black abyss of penance.

The wind was blowing hard, the poet played

His cloak opened, to feel the cold;

The wind, he said, is free and true,

But I'm mean and sold.

A star shone among the clouds,

The star soon shone, -

You have no faults: you shone so bright

But once in your power.

And I to whom your light spoke,

I wish to be one of you,

I fall, my faith is broken;

You despise me from your depths of blue -

And yet, dear stars, I know you shine

Only according to my needs and loves;

Lover of light, life that asks for light in me

Feed those everlasting lamps I see.

The story of Christ is the best document of strength of character we have. The young man who owed nothing to fortune, and who was "hanged at Tyburn," — by the sheer quality of his nature, spread that epic splendor around the facts of his death, which made every detail a great universal symbol for the eyes of all. all mankind since then.

He did well. This big defeat is the biggest fact we have so far. But what's to come will be better. The mind requires a far greater manifestation of character, which is good for both the senses and the soul; a hit for the senses as well as the soul. This was a big defeat; We are looking for victory. More character will convert judge and jury, soldier and king; he will govern human, animal and mineral nature; he will irresistibly command and merge with the flow of Universal Nature.

In short, fate should not exist. As long as we use this word, it is a sign of our weakness and that we are not yet what we are... Although I adore this ineffable life that is in my heart, she will not deign to gossip with me, she will not reveal any details of her life to me. science, will not go into the details of my biography and tell me why I have a son and daughters born to me, or why my son is dying in his sixth year of joy. Here, then, I have this latent omniscience coexisting with omniscience. Furthermore, as long as this Divinity shines in my heart and gives me all Power with its limitless premonitions, I know that tomorrow will be like this day, I am a dwarf and I will remain a dwarf. I mean, I believe in fate. While I'm weak, I'll talk about fate; Whenever God fills me with His fullness, I will see Fate disappear.

It is medefeatedall the time; I was born before Victory.

But why do you not oppose the idolatry of which all Christendom is guilty? namely, that it is retrospective, while all man's health and power consist in the prospective eye. A saint, an angel, a choir of saints, countless Christs, are equally worthless and forgotten by the soul, like falling leaves or plucked fruit in the Garden of Eden in the golden age. A new day, a new harvest, new duties, new people, new fields of thought, new powers call you, and eyes fixed on the sunless nature of the past deprive me of hope and destroy me with a wretched need that is nothing but which death may aptly symbolize.

A poet must not only be able to use nature as his hieroglyph, but he must have even greater power, namely, a suitable message to communicate; an adequate vision for such a faculty. Therefore, when we speak of the Poet in the broadest sense, we seem to be led to examples like Ezequiel, St. John and Meno with their moral burdens; and all those whom we are wont to call Poets become rhymers and poets along with them.

All our actions that we don't understand are symbolic. If I seem to be carrying rails to the shed under my barn, if I seem to be digging parsnips with pitchforks for manure, there can be no doubt that there is as much reason in these special phenomena as there is in the study of metaphysics or mythology. , in which I do not see the point.

We are much more poetic than we imagine; poets in our pain, poets in our eyes, ears and skin.

The boys continued their baseball game, ignoring the passenger, and the ball deftly hit him in the back. He was angry. He cared little for the boys. If you'd learned to play while you were in school, they said, you'd better not get hit. If you didn't learn it then, you might as well stop where you are and learn it now. Hit him again, Dick!

Sunday eve.

I say that it will do the greatest service to criticism that has been known from ancient times to draw the line of relationship that exists between Shakespeare and Swedenborg...

There is always this woman and this man in the mind; Affection as well as intellect.

You may know in advance that your friends will not succeed, because you could never find an Institution in an Institute.

"If he who brings corn for sale is entitled to compensation for it by law, by what law is he deprived of the right to compensation for the price of him who likewise brings his property for sale - his labor?" — LORD NUGENT.

Nowadays, if I go to churches, I usually find that the preacher is astute in proportion to his intelligence, so that the whole institution seems empty. X, the ablest of all Unitarian clergy, sprinkled popular snares throughout the lecture I heard at the Odeon. But in the days of the Pilgrims and Puritans, preachers were victims of the same faith with which they scourged and persecuted others, and their sermons are strong, imaginative, earnest, and every word a cube of stone.

As soon as my guests leave they appear like dreams.

Mr. Clapp, of Dorchester, to whom I described Fourier's project, thought that not only should it succeed, but that the agricultural association should fix the price of bread at once, and force the individual farmers to join in self-defence, as the large commercial and manufacturing companies did.

I read many pages in Chester Dewey last nightreport of transit plants you Massachusetts.With what joy we always come across these pictures! The very names of sedge and grass, milkweed, mint and lincura tribes, mallow and clover, are living pleasure. The fragrant beckoning of these beautiful children soothes and heals us. Names are often songs. because it ages early, it is called the old man of spring. OPirola umbrellait is called the winter lover, because of the bright green leaves in the snow; also called Knežev bor. plantain(sadim principal),that follows a man wherever he builds a hut, the Indians call him "White Man's Foot". And it is always touching to see Lidian or one of her girls go out at night with a lamp to gather some banana leaves to bandage some minor wound or pain in the hand or foot. What acres of Houstonia turn white and sway before your eyes with countless beautiful flowers in memory of May. My beloved Liatris gets even more interesting in late August and September because it is an approved remedy for snakebites and the so-called "Lord of the Rattlesnake". The naming of localities comforts us - "ponds", "shady roads", "sandy woods", "damp pastures", etc. I begin to see the sun and moon and share the life of nature, as if under the spell of the sweetest pastoral poet.

Fire grass, oneHierarchywhich grows abundantly in freshly cleared land. Dry aromatic fieldsGnaphalium;Sweet flags live in my memory this April day. But this boring country teacher offends some of my favorites, like the darling for example. The handsome pride of Plymouth Forest he completely omits. He who loves a flower, even though he knows nothing about its botany or medicine, is closer to it than one of those cataloguers...

These are our poems. What, please, O Emanuel Swedenborg, have I to do with jasper, sardius, beryl and chalcedony?...

One would think that God made figs and dates, grapes and olives, but the Devil made Baldwin apples and pears, cherries and blueberries, Indian corn and Irish potatoes.

I tell you, I love the sight of Hyla at the pool in April, or the night-cry of poor whips, more than all the bellowing of all the bulls in Bashan, or all the tortoises in all Palestine. O

Berkshire County is worth Moab, Gog and Kadesh together.

When Swedenborg described the paths leading from the "spirit world" to Heaven as initially invisible to any Spirit, but after a time visible to those who are pure, he was portraying a well-known truth concerning the history of thought. The door of thought - how slowly and late it opens! But when they appear, we see that they have always been there, always open.

April 13.

Read Mr. colman last nightquarto report of o Agriculture of Massachusetts.His account of fat cattle raised on the Connecticut River and sold in Brighton is almost pathetic. The sale will sometimes not pay off the note the farmer gave for the money he used to buy his stock in the fall. The Brighton disaster will create a new chapter in Porphyry on “Abstinence from Animal Food”. The maple sugar business is much more enjoyable to read. A tree can be cut down for eighty or ninety years without being hurt. A man can excrete three hundred in one day. I read with less pleasure that the staple culture of Franklin County is the broom.

The baby is not confused. Do you like her eyes? they graciously accept everything that comes before them, but give in to nothing. Trash as it is, it has never been misplaced, like the older kids.

I love meeting gentlemen; because they also bring a certain cumulative result to everyone. From every company they visit, from every job they do, they take something they wear like a certain tan or a permanent coat, and their behavior is a confirmation, a trophy of their culture. What we want when you come to us is rural culture. We have a lot and a lot of urban culture. Show us yours, inimitable and kind to us, O countryman!

In New York I saw Mrs. Black, a godly woman brought up in the Presbyterian Church, but who left it and came into the light, as she put it, "in a moment." She was spiritual and peaceful. She was satisfied with the contemplation of the presence and perfection of the Moral Law. She has read Madame Guion and Jacob Behmen, and now, recently, the Book of Ezra, whose author she said was an impatient but wise spirit. She quoted many Scriptures, but in Jones Very's poetic and original way. I was very pleased with her in my first interview; but as soon as I asked her, "Did she have no temptations?" No. "Didn't she want to serve a creature who could only be served by meddling in business?" No. She satisfied me very well on her own, but I soon felt that she had no answers to give the Inquirers I usually meet. She just said they had to be willing to be silly. "Yes," I said, "but they are fools already and have been so long, and now they begin to complain: How long, Lord!"

Kindness is not good enough unless it has insight, universal insights, results that are universally applicable.

The people we see are attacking the world;... The most private is the most public energy. We will see that quality compensates for quantity; that creative action in one outweighs feeble display and philanthropic declamation to multitudes; and this magnificence of character works in the dark and helps those who have never seen it.

You should listen to me. The reason I'm not is because I'm not real. Let me be a lover and no man can resist me. I am not pleasant, I am not friendly with myself, I bite and tear myself. I'm ashamed of myself. When will the day of peace and reconciliation dawn, when I, united and a friend, will show the world one heart and one energy?

"Every intellect," says Proclus, is an indivisible essence. Very likely and very unimportant; but that all intellect is an indivisible essence, or can be communicated in proportion to its quantity or depth - is a theme for the angel's song.

To quote.It is a big advantage to arrive first on time. The second must quote the first. You say Square never quotes: you say something absurd. Let him speak the word, just to say "chair",



"bread" - what are they but quotes from some old savage?

I have sometimes imagined that my friend's wisdom was more corrective than initiative, an excellent element in conversation to curb common exaggerations and preserve sanity, but too valuable, not for adventure and exploration or for satisfying peace.


April 14.

If I were to write an honest diary, what would I say? Unfortunately, this life is indifferent, superficial.

I'm almost thirty-nine years old, and I still haven't adjusted my attitude toward my fellow human beings on the planet, or toward my own work. Always too young or too old, I make no excuses; How can I satisfy others?

It doesn't surprise me that there was a Christ; I wonder if there weren't a thousand of them.

It's silly, sad work to play the lion and talk to people. Instead, let them scourge and humiliate me; so lifting is safe and fast.

(the K)


My daily life is quite varied, but when I read Plato or Proclus, or, without Plato, when I get up to think, I am not immediately satisfied, as when I drink when I am thirsty or when I am cold I go to the fire; No; I am only at the beginning familiar with my proximity to the new and brightest area of ​​\u200b\u200blife....

Where do we meet?...

April 12.

This afternoon I met Edmund Hosmer in his field, after passing his orchard where two of his boys were grafting trees; Mr. Hosmer plowed and Andrew led the oxen. I couldn't help but feel the utmost respect as I approached this brave worker. Here is Napoleon, the Alexander of the earth, who conquers and conquers, after so many hard days of summer and winter, not like Napoleon in just sixty battles, but in six thousand, and in each one he emerged victorious.... I am shame on my insignificant things and useless limbs before this strong soldier....

It is true, I thought, as he spoke, that Necessity breeds it, that Necessity knows better than Mr. Colman when to go to Brighton and when to feed in the barn.

Elizabeth gives me two proverbs today, both bucolic poetry:

"When the oaks are grey,

So farmers, keep planting.”

And others: -

"The mistress makes the morning,

But the Lord makes the evening."

Strange that what I don't have is always more excellent than what I have, and that Beauty, no, isn't Beauty, butathe beauty immediately leaves the property and flies towards the object on the horizon.

If I could lay my hand on the Evening Star, would it be as beautiful?

In the fields, on this beautiful day, I was ashamed of the inhospitality of the dispute. A parlor discussion of theology sounds very hoarse from a sunny, lonely hill or a meadow where children are playing.

As the pine tree sings in the wind,

This is how a pine branch sings in the wind.

As Proclus ascribes to the Deity the property of being in touch and out of touch at the same time, we require men to exhibit behavior which is both temperance and abandonment; "sassy attention and giddy cunning."

We look forward to the emergencies, to the eventful revolutionary times of our desire soul, and we think how easily we assumed our role when the drum beat and the house burned above our heads. But isn't peace greater than war, and aren't wars and victories greater? No progress? Wanting war is atheism.

When I saw the young man in the forest I said, "A very good promise, but now I can't look at the buds anymore: like a good grandfather when his twentieth baby was brought in, he refused to be petted, he said 'Kitten, kitten ' enough time."

Queenie says, “Save me from the glorious souls. I like the small regular size.

As they say when your razor is dull, put it away in your drawer and use another until it is dull, and then pick up the old one and you will find it sharp again, so I have heard scholars comment on your skill in tongues. , who having laid aside a Greek or German book for a time, when they afterwards took it up again, were astonished at their own ease.

(of J)

April 28.

Q. Why not great and good?

Answer Because I'm not what I should be.

Q. But why not what should you?

Answer Divinity is still looking for me, but this I, this individuality, this will resists.

Q. Well, for you it is: if you gave in, you would die, as the saying goes. But why does he resist?

Answer I can only answer, God is great: it is God's will. When he wants, he enters; when he doesn't want to, type no.

(the K)

It could1.

"And the hardest of tasks is to maintain the heights the soul is capable of attaining."

These verses by Wordsworth are a kind of elegy about these times. When I read Proclus, I am impressed by his power and range of action. Here, she is not an epileptic, short-breathed, short-flighted modern muse, but an Atlantean force who equals herself everywhere and dares to make great attempts, for the life with which she feels fulfilled. —

The day will come when a man will appear who will attract people like a lover or a friend attracts a lover or a friend, making the other party happy and honorable by serving him. That way, the character will encourage the kindness he needs, and won't have to meet his physical needs directly. Then every man "will live by his strength and not by his weakness", as A. said. God hates curiosity, said Euclid.

We want to see boldness - any kind of boldness, whether in behavior and action, whether in thought, poetry, music or construction. But where does courage come from? What is it but a badge and sign of Life, Spirit? And sometimes that wind blows here, sometimes there, nobody can say why, or how, or when, it speaks. Am I master of any of the conditions of your presence or should I fold my arms and wait until I dare?

Salvation is closer to us now than when we believed.

The Doctor. James Jackson said that it always took him a while to learn the scale of patients and nurses; what did they mean by"violent he was."

that they should die,” etc., etc. Nearly all people delight in the superlative, and for that reason they cling to exaggeration, like sugar, in all their actual observations of all characters. “They arise from a lack of ability to detect quality, they hope to excite their admiration for quantity: because they feel that here in this or that person there is something extraordinary.

A man who reads, or a child who enjoys himself, is a snake with its tail in its mouth. Let Saadi sit alone.

Surfaces threaten to wear you down in nature. The fox and the muskrat, the hawk, the snipe and the hedgehog, when seen at close quarters, have no more roots than man, so that they are but superficial inhabitants of the globe. So this new molecular philosophy shows that there are astronomical interstices between atom and atom; the world is all out there; it's not inside.

Atom after atom yawns until

Like the moon of the earth, like the star of the star.

Elizabeth Hoar said, when we were talking about the beauty of the morning and the beauty of the night, — — "I go like a beggar at sunset, but in the morning I am like nature."

(of J)

It could6.

Here are some suggestions for forming a good neighborhood: Hedge will live in Concord, and Mr. Hawthorne; Then George Bradford will come; and Mrs. Ripley later. Who knows, but would Margaret Fuller and Charles Newcomb be added now? These, if added to our current kings and queens, would form a rare and unequaled company. If they all had their home and home here, we might have solid social satisfaction instead of the grief and depression of visits. We might discover that each of us was more completely isolated and more sacred than before. You can come - no matter how close to the venue, to have goals and boundaries rather than the confusing and chaotic visit.

It could15.

Teaching in the church seemed very childish. Calvinism just seems complex;...

In general, I acknowledge, in Diligence and elsewhere, a Constitutional Calvinist, irrevocably. And in all the companies we find those who accuse themselves, who live in their memories and accuse themselves daily of the seven capital sins, like my Queen without guile; and the second class, who are never burdened with remorse, but always call their experience hopeful for their faith.

Our poetry reminds me of the catbird, who sings to me so movingly and gloriously next to Walden. Very sweet and musical! very diverse! Good performance! but so aware,of a artist!none of the notes are his, except at the end,Miau.

Of recent men it may be said that Milton's opinion may be referred to marriage, and Swedenborg's, and even Shelley's. Goethe has given none that I can remember, nor do others come to mind.

"Abou ben Adhem" seems to promise its own immortality beyond all contemporary songs. And how long will anyone look in books for a story as good as that of the woman from Alexandria with her torch and her bucket of water to burn heaven and extinguish hell?

He stands by his claim, feeble and feeble as it may be. The poet is an affirmer. A denial as loud and multiple as some chemists, astronomers and geologists do, imposing itself on me and everyone else, and we think it will do wonders. Years pass and they continue to expose mistakes, and some silent body has committed an act in the corner to which they must bow.

It seems a mark of the rarest genius to be able to discern affirmative talent. These geniuses as we know them are deceived every day, just as grossly as ordinary society.


Talent brings comfort. I propose to place the Athenaeum on foot in this village; but for what? We know very well what the greatest thing is, that is, to make people as pleasant and adorned as we are, but not to open the door of Heaven, as genius does in every work of genius. This serves to fix and satisfy fixity; the comfort of talent. London is the realm of talent. All newspapers, books and magazines come from this tree. Civilization is Talent's version of human life.

A highly gifted man with a good intellect and a clear conscience is a woman-man and needs not so much a woman as an addition to his being as another. Therefore, his attitudes towards sex are somewhat misplaced and unsatisfactory. He asks a woman sometimes a woman sometimes a man.

Like when I've been walking in one direction for a long time and then, if I turn around, I find that a big, beautiful star has long since gone out and shone upon me, I feel a kind of awe that I've been in such a presence for so long without knowing it, this is how I feel when a beautiful genius, who was born and raised in his prime in my neighborhood, now for the first time shines his deep light upon my eyes.


Today.Everyday asceticism is like keeping myself in the prime of my condition; because a good day's work is too important a possession to risk any chance of good days to come.

Close your eyes and hear the military band playing in the fields at night and you will have kings and queens and all royal behavior and good company, all chivalry walking visibly before you...

The Doctor. Bradford said it was a misfortune to be born when children were nothing and to live when men were nothing.


Literary criticism, how cool, and lately I'm shocked when I discover this omnipresent selfishness in my stuff. My prayer is that I will never be deprived of the fact, but that I will always be so rich in objects of study that I never feel this impoverishment of the memory of myself.

That the intellect grows by moral obedience seems to me the Day of Judgment. Let this fact once gain credibility and all mistakes be corrected; no more sorrow and pity, no more fear or hatred; but justice as bright and palpable as the best we know of kings, caliphs and temptations, and what we call "poetic justice" - that is, complete justice, justice in the eye and justice in the mind - takes place.


Because the gods are not unknown to one another.

v, 79.

As deep as the dew gives to the meadow in the morning, fireflies give to the meadow in the evening. The fire, though it is a spark in the chimney, is always deep.

I readshythese days, but I'm never in holy and festive enough health for the task. A man should be like a book. A man doesn't know how beautiful he wants a morning until he goes to read Plato and Proclus.

Elizabeth Hoar says that Shelley is like shining sand; it always looks attractive and valuable, but don't try so many times, you won't get anything good. And yet, the glow will still remain.

I admire the unfailing instinct with which, like an arrow aimed at the target, a beautiful newborn genius always flies towards geniuses. Here is this young man running to Shakespeare, Dante, Spenser, Coleridge and seeing nothing to intervene.

Charles King Newcomb captured us all. He grew up so fast that I told him I shouldn't show him many of the things I bribed him with. Why tease him with the crowd? The crowd is for the kids. I should leave you alone. His review in his "Journal of Books" was admirable both in its devotion to the author, be it Aeschylus, Dante, Shakespeare, Austin or Scott, and in the feeling of having a stake in that book - "whoever touches it touches me";—and in its complete solitude of the critic, the Patmos of thought from which he writes, in complete unconsciousness of all eyes that will ever read this writing, reminds me of Aunt Mary. Charles is a religious intellect. To him be the credit that when I took his handwritten history into the woods, and he read it in an armchair on a lofty pine root, for the first time after Waldo's death he felt again an actual faith in the repairs of the Universe, some independence from nature relationships, while spiritual relationships can be just as perfect and rewarding.

Robert Bartlett defined the church as "the Lord's organic means of life to divine humanity." He and Weiss gave an amusing account of a truck driver who drove a crowd of square hats into a college yard and harassed them for an hour. It was the richest swear word, the most aesthetic, fertile, — and they recorded it.

Nelly woke up disturbed in the night and ruined the sleep of the elders. The elders were very angry, but Nell was soon won over by the pathos and eloquence of childhood and its words of fate. Then, after wishing for dawn, she burst into sublimity: "Mother, it must be dawn." Immediately afterwards, in her sleep, she rolled out of bed; I heard little feet running across the floor and then, “Oh dear! Where is my bed?"

She fell asleep again and then woke up: “Mom, I'm scared; I wish I could sleep in bed next to you. I'm afraid of falling into the water — it's all water!"

I think language should aim to describe a fact, not just suggest it. If you, with these draftsmen, give me at least a conscious and vague compound, it's like a blot of color to hide the flaws in your drawing. A sharper view would have seen and shown the straight line. The poet draws well and paints at the same time.

When C. says, "If I were a transcendentalist, I wouldn't seal my cards," what is he really saying, except that he sees that he shouldn't seal his cards?

"When I am abandoned," said the scholar. And he told his thoughts and read his favorite plays to many visitors, and when he saw the moss, or when he saw the night sky, and when he saw his dead lover, he knew that, though beautiful and sad, it was good for him. your music; and then it seemed that what had been a sphere of polished steel had become a surface, or a convex mirror. So he defended the copyright until the Muse abandoned him, and Apollo said: He may die. However, before this event, he was a lover of things that he did not know how to praise, nor did he suspect that others loved them. Once again, the scholar will despise this placement of their gods insold.Lavavnica waved its pagoda of yellow bells over him.

No one longs for church so much as he who stays at home.

But my growing value of the present moment, to which I gladly indulge when I can, destroys my Sunday reverence, which always, no doubt, has little regard for the state and conservatism. But when today is big, I throw the whole future of the world into the sea.

In June, around the time Alcott left for England, Manlius C. Clarke, a solicitor, approached Elizabeth Peabody and told her that he would sell seven hundred and fifty copies of Alcott's book.conversations already o Gospelin sheets, for the sum of fifty dollars to the Kabbalists for waste paper. There are nine hundred pounds of them and they sell for five cents a pound.

I hear with pleasure that a young woman, in the midst of wealthy and decent Unitarian friends in Boston, is almost persuaded to join the Roman Catholic Church. Her friends, who are also my friends, complained to me about this growing trend. But I told them I thought she should be congratulated on the event. She lived in great poverty of events. In the form and age of a woman, she is still a child, without any experience, and though of a refined, liberal, sensitive, and expansive nature, she has never found any object worthy of notice; she is not in love, nor is she called to any taste, except lately music, and unfortunately she wants suitable objects. In this church she can find what she needs, the power to awaken dormant religious feelings. It is regrettable that the guide who took her on this journey is a vivacious, violent young woman, but of a very external character, who teaches her historical arguments in favor of the Catholic faith. I told A. that I hoped she would not be misled into attaching any importance to this. If church services appeal to her, if she is drawn to its beautiful forms and human spirit, if St. Augustine and St. Bernard, Jesus and Our Lady, cathedral music and masses, then go, for your heart's sake, but don't go. from this glacier of Unitarianism, everything external, to the fridge of external again. In any case, I instructed her not to pay attention to dissenters, but to eat that orange well.

In Boston I saw the new Tennysons second volumeSongs.He had many merits, but the question remains whether he hasomerit. It could be said that it was the poetry of a distinguished person; that it was beauty taken to infinity, but without any great heroic trait; very strong exclusion of all mere natural influences.

Reading it aloud, you soon become sensitive to the monotony of elegance. He wants a little northwest wind or a northeast storm; it is a lady's bower - a garden; or commercial greenhouse, aviary, apiary and musky greenhouse. And yet, tempted by one of my tests, it didn't entirely fail - I think it was liberating; he slipped or made "this mortal coil" slip a little. The songs "Locksley" and "Talking Oak" - I am pleased to testify - gave me an instant feeling of freedom and power.

I also talked in town with Sampson Reed of Swedenborg and others. "It's not like that in your experience, but it's like that in another world." - Another world? I answer, there is no other world; here or nowhere is all the fact, the whole universe is finished, there is only one thing - this old double, Creator-creature, mind-matter, right-wrong. He would have demons, objective demons. I replied, It is absurd to assert that there is pure malignity... As for Swedenborg, I praised him as a great poet. Reed wanted me, if I admired poetry, to feel it as fact. I said to him, "All I care about is the subjective truth of Jesus', Swedenborg's, or Homer's observation, and nothing about the object. Caring too much about the object was low and gossip. He can and should talk about it." his circumstances and the manner of events and beliefs around him; he may speak of angels, or Jews, or gods, or Lutherans, or gypsies, or any character that comes to hand; I can easily translate his rhetoric into mine.

Each conscience repeats mine and is a sliding scale from Divinity to Plague. Sometimes man conspires with the Universe, sometimes he is at the other extreme and stands there, a criminal confessing his sin. The moment he starts talking, I understand all his relationships and fix him at his point on the scales.

Sounds like someone is playing a stupid game to dominate the discussion, so they are incorrigible people….

There is a well-known children's formula: "I am", "I am not", "I am", "I am not", etc.

TriI had occasion to say to Elizabeth Hoar the other day that I am very fond of strong, hard-working people like her father, who uphold the social order without hesitation or fear. I like these: they never bother us, causing us sadness, pity or distress of any kind.

But my conscience, my unhappy conscience, respects this unhappy class who see the flaws and stains of our social order and who constantly pray and strive to correct injustice. This dull class of men and women generally find the work wholly beyond their abilities, and though their sincerity is commendable, its results for the moment are distressing. But there is a third class who are born in the new heaven and new earth with organs for the new element, and who, from this, look better at this evil world where millions grope and suffer. With their life and happiness in the new, I am sure of the destruction of the old, and therefore I love and respect them.


Looking in the wrong directions for the light.

Obedience is the only ladder to the throne.

It is sad to get over our preachers, our friends, and our books and find that they are not more powerful. Proclus and Plato still haunt me, but I don't read them in a way that honors the writer....

I read these English tracts with interest. Goodwyn Barmby is another Ebenezer Elliot, but more practical. Revolution is no longer frightening when radicals are kind. If Jack Cade likes poetry and makes a "Love Marriage" with Milton and Shelley, for community, phalanges, dietetics and so on, I don't smell cigarettes anymore. It is strange that Carlyle ignored this extraordinary class of dissenters and radicals so close to him, Lane, Owen, Wright, Fry, etc., etc.

This probably stems from that need for isolation that genius so often feels. He has to stand on his glass tripod if he wants to keep the current going. Keep them away, then, my brave Carlyle, you worshiper of beauty and spreader of beauty to the world. His every sentence is a joyous announcement that Beauty the Creator, Venus Creatrix, still exists; sentences are written without any benefit, without morals, but for the pleasure of writing.

Yes, Carlyle represents literary man very well, he enhances the place and function of Erasmus and Johnson, Dryden and Swift, for our generation. He is a true gentleman and deserves the good of the entire academic fraternity for having maintained the dignity of his writing profession in England. However, I always feel his limitations and I praise him as someone who plays his part well in his light, just as I praise the Clays and the Websters. For Carlyle is a worldly man, and does not speak beyond the heavenly realm of Milton and the Angels.


Chaucer is a poet as I have described Saadi, who has the advantage of being the most learned man of his time. Therefore let him always speak sovereignly and cheerfully. Others mainly exaggerate the poetic nature, which is very sensitive. The most moving experience, that of religious feeling, teaches about the immensity of each moment, about the indifference of sizes. The present moment is all that the soul is God; - a great and ineffable lesson the details of which are innumerable.

However, experience shows that no matter how big, big and big this lesson is, this discipline also has its limits. Man must not remain in the contemplation of the Spirit all the time. So a man must fall into a lazy and unskillful person and stop before his possible rise into a dark person; there are tombs under the churches, but the Intellect is joyful.

Just as bookbinders separate each sheet, or each set of sheets, into a large pile by inserting a small pad of cardboard, so some genius seemed in this man's eyes to place a ray of light beneath every thought and fact of nature, so that all things before him were separated according to his laws, and he never confused like for like.


The deep meaning of the words "Goodwill brings discernment". It is like when one finds the way to the sea by embarking on a river; or finds a passage for the mind through a piece of matter by following the path of electricity, magnetism, heat, or light through it; in any case, he knows nature by sharing nature; it is a victim and a victor.

All our days are so useless as they pass.

It often seems that there is so little affinity between man and his works that it seems as if the wind wrote the book and not him.

Put dittany in your greenhouse, asphodel, nepenthe, moly, poppy, rue, self-heal.

Roses of bright fate live on apple trees and roses and die of apoplexy of sweet feelings in golden days, in mid-July.

He dug up sweet fruit, his potatoes were cut, his asparagus grew on trees, melons and gourds spread for miles and had roots like oaks.

O Telescope.The greatest genius adds nothing; it only separates from the mass of life a particle that was not separated before, so that I see it separated.

Destiny takes vacations and minutes of work; it was written on your forehead before you were born; the clock was set to run for seventy years, and here to stop, and there to hasten. Just that neuralgia and that typhus, that beautiful October and that happiest friendship, that was all. The music box's little barrel rotates until all your songs are played.

Wright, Lane, Barmby, Harwood, Heraud, Doherty, Barham, Greaves, Marston, Owen.

August 2.

Zanoni.We shouldn't complain if we're reading a book. Of all preachers of luxury, these novelists are the best. It's a trick, a juggling act. We are moved to laughter or amazement by deeds that strangely match the actions we do every day.

England. Many of them received Mr. Alcott and his ideas with hospitality. H. G. Wright was headmaster of Alcott House School in Surrey; he came with Charles Lane and his son to America with Mr. Alcott on his return; Goodwyn Barmby was the editor of the magazineor community Apostle;Harwood wrote for some reform papers; John A. Heraud was the London editorA monthto which the magazine Mr. Emerson gave some praise in vol iiiTo choose.In the editorial record of the months of this magazine since January 1843, aLife of Carlosof Hugh Doherty, mentioned; alsoLondon Phalanxas if from him. Francis Barham wrote dramatic poetry,O Smrt ofetc. he was an editorOaa month magazine of Divinity eu Universal Literature.John Pierrepont Greaves has already been mentioned in these notes as a retired merchant who became a friend of Pestalozzi and Strauss, and devoted himself, on his return to England, to the improvement of English schools, especially the establishment of nursery schools: he died in 1842. J Westland Marston is praised in this paper for his dramatic poemO patrician Daughter.Robert Owen, brother of the great anatomist, was a promoter of social life in England and America.

youTo chooseIn October 1842, in an article entitled "The English Reformers", Mr. Emerson speaks of most of these men.

There are no new elements, no power, no progress. It's just confectionery, not planting new corn; and that being so, there is no limit to its length and multiplication. Mr. Babbage will soon invent a new typewriter. The old machinery cannot be disguised, however gleefully vampirized. Money, killing and wandering Jew, these are still the main sources; new names but no new qualitiesdramaticItalics and capital letters are obsolete substitutes for the natural epigram and revelations of love speech. Therefore, it is a futile effort to keep a fraction of this fairy gold that has flowed like a stream through our hands. A thousand thoughts awoke, great rainbows seemed to cover the sky. Morning among the mountains; but when we close the book, we finish the memory, nothing survives, not even a breath.

The power of emotion that the Moments page has comes from you. You read as you read words in a dictionary, or hear a stranger's ringing name and endow the stranger with some respectable gifts. But as there was no wisdom in the book, nothing improves by itself; everything floats, floats and dissipates forever.

Young people are readers and victimsVivian Shiva....someone would sayVivian Graywhich was written by a person of lively talent who had rare opportunities in society and access to the best anecdotes in Europe. Beckendorf is sketchy by nature, and whoever the model was, he was a tough, hard-headed humorist who won his empire for a day over these college kids.

Bulwer is clearly a dissolute Alcibiades, once a student of Socrates, and here and there recites a lesson taught him by his teacher. But the worst thing about Bulwer is that he has no style of his own; he is always a collector and contributes no flash, no low life, no learning, no poetry, no religion, no description, from his own stores.

August 3.

Our desire for anecdotes of the countenance, form, manners, dress, dwelling, etc., from any considerable mind, must teach us that a man must make all these anew, and not borrow from custom.

A noble brain, a searching eye, But alas! he has no hands.

Hourly work; paid or not, just look for work;...

Some play chess, some play cards, some play the stock market. I prefer to play Cause and Effect.

Bettine is more real, more witty than George Sand or Mme de Staël; just as deep and significantly more readable.

Gold represents work and rightly opens all doors, but work is superior and opens secret doors, it opens man and finds a new place in the realm of intelligence.

We readZanoniwith pleasure because magic is natural; ...

A wicked and obscure weed near the threshold, trodden upon by every foot that entered the house, was the plantain, but when the master's leg was sore and lame, they went out at night with a lamp to seek its leaves, and it brought refreshment. and cure. Temperance is a poor banana, a vicious virtue in its everyday details, but what interest - compound interest - it yields in the end.

Our Concord Athenæum should be celebrated in the city's newspapers. What can we say but that it is good for us to get our newspapers and magazines together, that it will free up the village to have readers here, that it will give a new and beautiful hospitality to our guests: and that we will appreciate small subscriptions more. but big, because they always seem sincere and affectionate.



The only poetic fact in the lives of thousands and thousands is their death. No wonder they declare all the circumstances of someone else's death.

Highlight facts: It takes genius to select facts. The poverty of the selfish.

Phi Beta Kappa.Nine cold cheers in Cambridge for Lord Ashburton. It is a pity that they lie like that about their acute sensitivity to living cold. The people of the world value the truth in proportion to their abilities. From these, and especially from diplomats, he has a right to [expect] cunning and ingenuity to avoid lying, provided they respect the form. Elizabeth Hoar repeats Colonel Shattuck's toast to poor K-: “Speaker of the day. From himsubjectdeserves the attention of every farmer." It is an honor for Colonel Shattuck. I wish the great lords and diplomats of Cambridge had such ingenuity and respect for truth. The speeches froze me in place. Eventually Bancroft melted the ice and we he let out, and I thanked him intimately.

Balzac has two merits, talent and Paris. The doctrine with which the world has agreed (has it not?) on this much troubled question of classicism and the novel is that it is not a question of time, nor of form, but of method; that the classic is creative and the romantic is aggregator; that the Greek is in the Christian

Germany would build a cathedral; and that a romantic is building the Parthenon customs house in our time.

We stopped at a farm in Lincoln and asked for milk and when we left I offered money but it was wrong. With this money, we are harming everyone, both ourselves and the recipients. We owe men excellent behavior, and knowing we have half a dollar in our pockets, we slink around, idle and misbehave, and not trust our kindness and feelings.

Never look at my book and it might be better if it's worth looking at. My thought today was how right Swedenborg imagined every man with a sphere, because we use the word for moral qualities and really imagine Socrates, Milton or Goethe as a great personality.

But it also happened as a guarantee of the institution of marriage against the Shelleys of the time, that in these twilights of the gods we need all the conventions of the most orderly life to contain our lame and poor loves. The slightest deviation from marriage customs would raise against us a tide too strong to resist so feeble a reed as modern love. Your colds, your ebbs and flows need all the protection and humor they can get from form and behavior.

(of J)

August 11.

Yes, these are all children, and when we talk about real parties, this must be remembered.

Queenie says that, according to Edmund Hosmer, the production of plums and peaches was a feeble surrender to the good Lord.

August 20.

Last night I was walking to the river with Margaret and I saw the moon broken in the water, questioning, questioning. The story of the surrounding minds followed from there. Margarida said that she felt in the midst of Tendencies: she did not regret life, nor did she accuse the imperfections of hers or her performance, while those strong domestic Tendencies thus appeared, and will mature in the children of all of us. I told her that I didn't see the slightest difference between the first experience and the last one in my case. I was never but lazy, never strained a muscle, and saw the difference only in the circumstances, not the man; at first a circle of boys - my brothers at home, with my aunt and cousins, or in the classroom at school; all agreed that my lines were obscure nonsense; and now the general public was saying the same thing, "obscure nonsense," and yet both were admitting that the boy had brains. Now a little more emotion, but the fact is identical, both in my consciousness and in relationships.

Margaret would beat the heart of nature; I feel that beneath the greatest life, whether it be Jove's or Jehovah's, there must be a wonder that embodies both action and thought.

In talking with W. Ellery Channing about Greek mythology as believed in Athens, I could not help feeling how quickly the key to such possibilities is lost, the key to the faith of men disappears with the faith. A thousand years later it will seem less monstrous that those astute Greeks believed the fables of Mercury and Pan, than those learned and practical peoples of modern Europe and America, these physicians, metaphysicians, mathematicians, critics and merchants, believed this Jewish excuse. of the poor Jewish boy, and how they managed to connect that accidental story with the religious idea, and that famous dogma of the Triune God, etc., etc.

Nothing easier, until it separates; nothing so wild and amazing in the next moment will happen.

Bancroft, Giles, Mann, Rantoul, Longfellow, Theodore Parker, Doutor [S. G.] Howe, doutor [Charles T.] Jackson, George B. Emerson.


September 1.

A most beautiful sunset walk this afternoon with W. E. Channing. A sunset is very different from anything below it. But it must always seem unreal, until there are no corresponding figures. Sunset wanted men. But everything we know about nature is ineffable. How well we know certain winds, certain lights, certain aspects of the soil and the forest. However, no words can convey what they express to us monthly and daily.

The reason why lunatics swear is because their excessive feelings require excessive speech. But nature never curses, loves moderate expressions and sober colors, green grass, beige and gray, gray and blue and dark mixed together; here and there a dark acherontic mushroom. Still, the sunset was a testament to the angels' love. Swearing has gone out of fashion on earth because society, and that means discriminating against people, rejects excessive speech. Vows never go out of style, but they are always beautiful and exciting; but their fraud, which is called profane profanity, is rightly considered a nuisance. We don't like fake fuckers.

The results. report of a Quadro of One already o Case of Nature.If this is the age of criticism, let it be largely written from a point of view that is at least Olympian or super-Olympic, and treat gods and men alike... It must be said openly to the higher power that, although there is a landscape, not yet inhabited; that nature cannot be enjoyed or enjoyed until man finds its consummation; that we have very carefully examined both sides of the question, and have found and here declare that there is no reconciliation; Desire is always greater than property, ideas than facts. Consider, too, that our practical Pyrrhonism is strengthened by our observation that the most lamentable circumstance is the source of new power, and that we owe our wisdom to our folly.

It's great to know that poetry was written today, under this roof, by your side...

Perhaps we are slow to believe in Genie, since we renounce everything as soon as we meet him. I forgive him for everything: everything is insignificant before him; I will wait for this for years and sit in contempt at the door of this inexhaustible blessing.

You say, perhaps nature still gives me the joy of friendship. But our pleasures are in some proportion to our strengths. I have so little vital force that I could not bear the waste of a liquid and friendly life; I must die of tuberculosis in three months. But now I dedicate all my strength to this single life that I lead; no doubt he will be a well-preserved old gentleman.

September 4.

Life shows us some noble victims who make and suffer temperamentally and proportionately; the rest are insignificant people and dodge work, to use a common phrase. But every work deepens literature and exalts the artist's skill, and the soul doubles, triples, quadruples and multiplies infinitely.

Marston Tragedy,O patrician Daughter.When we have such a gift, let us read it and thank God. No doubt it may have flaws, but what's the use of resorting to imagination and painting a new shape, new shapes on your empty sky with a mechanical pencil. This is refreshing to read - written with such 'simplicity and spirit; the character of Mordaunt is very natural and familiar to the English experience in Cannings, Pulteney, Burke, Fox: Lady Mabel is also well and easily imagined. It is a pity that the disaster is caused by a blatant lie on Lady Lydia's part, which lovers can easily break. This is a weak way of making a play whose crises should, as in life, arise from the mistakes and conditions of the parts, as in Goethe's work.Tasso.It seems that the play is eminently fit for performance in all respects but one, namely, the five-year lapse between the two acts. "No" by Mordaunt is wonderful for the stage.

[The following are excerpts from "Experience", about nature and books and about people's optical illusion(Essay,Second series, pg. 50 and 52).]

I remember Mr. [Samuel] Ripley saying to a young southern tortoise, "Visula, bake," in answer to all his praise. Too bad we don't know how to say Fiddle faddle to people who occupy our time and don't use our intelligence. Most people are time cheaters, nearest object cheaters: they can't put things in perspective; but the nearest is still the greatest. They talk to inferiors, and they don't know how, they don't know how to speak with humility. Just like on a mountain, you have to point the rifle at the other mountain and see if the shot comes out of the barrel, to know that the top is lower than yours. The eye cannot measure it.

Poor Irishwoman Mary Corbet, whose five-week-old son died here three months ago, sends a message to Lidian saying that she "cannot retrieve her girdle (in which the child's body was taken to Boston): will you please give it to her; and she cannot return the little scarf (with which her head was bound): he must, please, give it to her."

Nathaniel Hawthorne's reputation as a writer is a very pleasing fact, for his writing is good for nothing, and that is a credit to the man.

Sam Ward says, "I like the women, they are so well dressed."

Edmund Hosmer's Sunday night franchise to Alcott was good, so skilled and so strong. I told him, what was really the difference from Alcott, that, happy or desperate, this man always believed in his principle, never abandoned it, never exchanged the convenient and common way of doing things for the right and powerful one, while all vulgar reformers, like these people of the Commonwealth, after blowing their sentimental trumpet, trust in the hand of money and the law. It is the effect of his nature, his natural clearness of spiritual vision, which makes this confusion of thought impossible for him. I have company traveling with me around the world, and one or two of them I have not yet met, whose office no one can hand over to me: Edward Stubler; my Methodist Tarbox; Wordsworth Merchant; Mary Rotch; Alcott; Fra Cristoforo, by Manzoni; Swedenborg; Mrs. Black; and now Greaves, and his pupil Lane; supreme people who represent, regardless of their shortcomings, the idea of ​​Ethics. Elizabeth Hoar, the real Elizabeth Hoar, that is, she felt an element of herself in her intellectual and pious friends; the first loved the truth, but loved himself in the truth; the latter made sacrifices, but never forgot their demands. Strange, everything is strange. O little Edith, you are strange, life is strange, and God is the strangest and strangest thing in his universe.

The lady said that S—never forgot himself, he was affected, but his affectation was natural to him; also that the only thing she feared was not being afraid. Mr. C. sold his house in Boston and went to live in the country because he found that he didn't know how to make a bow. It was a very reasonable reason, but Charles's criticism was that he should have raised the ceiling and enlarged his rooms; for an unpleasant man in the State House grounds or on the Common is no more unpleasant. Big space, tall rooms have the same exciting, liberating quality as big light. Dancing in a dimly lit ballroom would be a dreary event, but turn the light up brightly and the party mood will instantly improve. There are two options for those who are unhappy at a night party: one, not going to these companies anymore, which is an escape; others, visit them until their law is thoroughly learned and they become indifferent, which is conquest. O good sacrifice, martyr! clowns and pathos are happy with themselves, but not you.

The intellect always puts a distance between the subject and the object. Love would unite the two. For better or for worse, I purge myself of what I think: I suffer, but I am not in mourning. I love, but I'm not love.

Marriage in what is called the spiritual world is impossible, because of the inequality between each subject and each object...

Young S—the family teacher left during a trip to Italy. It would be so easy to make your life happy - to make a human being happy; however, they managed to make him feel like a serf and poison him every day, and he returned with an established distaste for the aristocracy. Very happy if there is. Very cheap is the price he paid, if indeed he managed to despise or pity his sad joys. But I doubt it, I doubt it.

I hate this sudden crystallization in my poets. Beautiful song, but there's a bad phrase here, a weak line, a wrong word. "I'm sorry," the poet replies, "but that's the way it is."

"But you can change that," I say. "Not a single letter," replies the hardened bard.

When I read the Tennysons I wonder if there is any taste in England for honoring the poet; a fortune the size of Dante would meet with equal apprehension. Still, it seems weak to deny it. A poet and a lover of poetry are born twins at the same time; and when Wordsworth wrote, Landor discovered and celebrated him, as did an Edinboro critic...

We are absorbed in our good reads, we have many good books, and like those who have eaten too many cakes and sweets, they crave the brown cover, so we loveAlbany Cultivator,

(From N)


However, there is a reality to our relationship with a friend, isn't there?

Yes, and I welcome the greatest lights and omens that arise from them, as the most valuable fruits of our being, until now.

But don't they show that the existence you loved so much isn't over?

I have no idea about it.

Unfortunately, my friend, you lack generosity; you cannot surrender. I see the law of all your friendships. This is cheap. You say your stuff, your friend says his stuff, and once the inventory is done, you get your hats.

Do you see that kitten chasing its tail so beautifully? If you could see through her eyes, you would see her surrounded by hundreds of figures enacting complex dramas….

How slowly, how slowly we learn that sorcery and ghosts, palmistry and magic, and all the other supposed superstitions, which, with so much police, arrogant skepticism and scientific committees, we finally dismiss as nonsense, are not really nonsense. anyway, but subtle and valid influences, are always moving, cutting, murmuring in our way and overshadowing our day. Things are real, they just shed their skin, which we, with many insults, shake off and bury. A person casts a glance at us, and the very tombs of memory return their dead...

It is the same with literature and the Faculty of Medicine. The poor man gets sick and dies, no one knows how; the rich man contracts the same disease and also dies, but he has the honor and pleasure of having the disease indicated by his doctor and the board of doctors. It's very difficult to name things.

Chemistry, entomology, conic sections, medicine, all sciences, all branches of science, will satisfy all requirements: all poetry, mythology, ethics, demonology, will be expressed by it: new rhetoric, new methods of philosophy , perhaps new political parties, will celebrate the climax of each of them.

Just fill in the hour, that's happiness...

It never hurts me that I can't give you the correct answer to the question What is God? What is the operation we call Providence? and the like. There is the answer: there it is, present, omnipresent for you, for me...

I awoke to find dear old world, wife, baby and mother, Concord and Boston, dear old spirit world and even dear old Devil not far away.

"Blind love", yes, love lives in the layer of the relative and is blind to the absolute. But the Self is also blind, not captivatingly but fearfully. As for this element, werace alreadyabout ourselves and never realized that we lost our companion's ear a long time ago.

transcendentalno CriticismWith this eternal demand formorewhat belongs to our modest constitutions, how can we help? The gods themselves could not help us, they are as bad as they are.

T.P. it has beautiful fangs and the whole amphitheater enjoys watching it caress and tear its victim apart.

Rings and jewelry are not gifts, but excuses for gifts. The only gift is a part of yourself...

This was the real problem the playwright had to solve;danoa thief, the strongest temptation and opportunity for violence or theft - how to attract a witty man only by his intelligence, which is not realized immediately, but directly through speech. It's a perfectly easy problem to solve in action whenever the real emperor appears. It does not show courage, but intelligence. The Corsair captured the captain.

Sterling writes well on sculpture, and if I were rich I would have my room full of statues or molds of all the gods, to preach tranquility to me and my friends. But it is useless to make equanimity a matter of conscience; a man will not become great by accusing himself, but greatness will come wherever God wills, like a fine day.

T. sells me peat or wood or apples for more money than he sells to Hosmer, who may use certain test questions or exams that I cannot administer. Well, do I not also exclude T. from the use of certain examination questions and examinations in regard to other things more important to his honor and reputation as a man than to me his peat and apples?

The highest criticism must be written in poetry.

Goethe received four, Fichte five and Richter seven Louis d'Or for their best work. Louis = $4.00.

I have a kind of promise to write a verse or two these days in praise of my hometown, which we are often used to insulting and which has great merit for us. And it, like every city, has its virtues, like an art museum. Private collectors' salons; Athenaeum Gallery; and the University; to become a city town. So the city has this praise, which, like a bell or a musical orchestra is heard outside, behind the noise of cars, so beautiful in architecture, or in political and social institutions, lasts: everything else comes to nothing. So antiques and durables are good and classy in any city.

U Londonu je Alcott vidio Carlylea, Lanea, O'Connella; Robert Owen, Heraud, Marston, Wright, Barham, Browning, Milnes, W. J. Fox, Harwood, Doutor Bowring, Doutor Elliotson, Morgan, Doherty, Barmby, George Thompson.

All people are riddles until finally in some word or deed we find the key to a man, to a woman; immediately all his past words and deeds appear in the light before us.

Men are so social that they have no solitary merit. All of them - famous leaders and all - trust someone else - and that superstitiously, and not from a view of his merits. They follow fact, they follow success, not skill. Therefore, as soon as the success ends, Mr. Jackson makes a mistake building Pemberton Square and is fired; they already remember that they doubted the judgment of Mr. Jackson a long time ago, and pass the reputation of judgment on to the next successor who has yet to blunder.

Vegetables, plants, are the youth of the universe, the people of the future, but they are not yet ripe for their place in nature. However, they are all handsome, and men, even if they are fifteen, are mostly unattractive. The reason is that the people, although young, are already dispersed, but the maples and ferns are not. However, no doubt when they come to that, they too will curse and curse. I heard crows laughing in the forest.

Milnes brought Carlyle to the railroad and showed him the departing train. Carlyle looked at him and said, "These are our poems, Milnes." Milnes was supposed to reply, "Yes, and our stories, Carlyle."

But it is worth noting how quickly the poet can dismiss these frightening facts. One sees Factory Village and the Railway and thinks of Wordsworth and what his horror will be. Wordsworth has the feeling that this also belongs toeu to fill in ofwith a known multitude of mechanical facts, and that all Mechanics have not gained a grain of addition. A spiritual fact likewise remains unchanged by many or few details, since no mountain is of appreciable height to break the curve of the sphere.

Men are great in spite of themselves. They achieved some greatness, but it was as they struggled to achieve conventional greatness. A college student apologizes for not learning the professor's assignment and tries to learn it, but his stronger nature allows Otway and Massinger to read him or betray him for a hike to Mount Auburn during study time. The poor boy, instead of thanking the gods and belittling the math teacher, bows to the officer and poisons his beautiful pleasures with lasting regrets. Well, let him at least never boast of his choice; how could he do it if he knew what he was doing while doing it.

When Alcott went to England he wanted to take miniatures of Elizabeth Peabody, Margaret Fuller and myself with him. — I remember once that A. thought that the head would soon reject the body, that it would perish, while the brain would develop a new and superior organization.

(From a free sheet)

Most of the time I am a very small child who does not intend to control nature and dictate its laws. I play with him, like with other children, like my toy. I see the sun and the moon and the river without asking their causes. I content myself with the mysterious music of the waterfall or with the ripples and lapping of the banks without knowing why. However, the child that I am, I know that at any moment I can wake up to the sense of authority and divinity that is here. The seer, the prophet, passing by, will lead me to her; poetic will; no, I will think of the sharpened wood and they will shake and turn into dreams.

(From N)

Richter said, “In the big world I despise men and their joyless joys, but I value women; only in them can the spirit of the times be explored."

I think that in my house, where there are no ears, no good man should be so wronged as to be asked to sing.

BrancoIt will be the law of this Society that no member will be considered a liar if he is a sportsman, and gives the wrong place when asked where he threw his partridge; or who is a fisherman and does not remember where he got his trout; or who is an engineer and misguides his inquiring friends as to the best privilege of the mill; or who is a trader and forgets which stocks he intends to invest in; or who the author is, and when asked if he wrote an anonymous book, he responds negatively.

Duh (under, under o gato).It will not be a law.

[Edward Everett's account, which occupies the next nine pages of the diary, seems to have been written at this time. Mr. Emerson presented almost all of this in a lecture he delivered in the last years of his active life (perhaps in 1867 and later) after Everett's death. This, entitled "Historical Notes of Life and Letters in New England," was first published by Mr. Cabot in the Riverside Edition of the Works, in vol.Speeches eu Biographicala year or two after Mr. Emerson died.

Here are the opening paragraphs of the diary entries and one or two more showing his youthful enthusiasm for Everett, also one or two not printed in the posthumous edition.]

Edvard Everett.The influence of Everett's genius on the young was almost comparable to that of Pericles in Athens. This man had an inspiration that did not go beyond his head, but that made him a genius of elegance. He had a radiant beauty of a person, with a classic style, heavy, large eyes, marble lids that gave the impression of mass necessary for the insignificance of his forms, shaped lips, a voice with such rich timbres, so precise and perfect when saying which, though somewhat nasal, is the softest, most beautiful, and most correct of all the instruments of the age. The word he said, the way he said it, became current and classic in New England.

His poetic quotes were particularly beautiful. He quoted Milton; less often Byron; and sometimes Watts's verse, and with such sweet and perfect modulation that he seemed to give as much beauty as he borrowed, and all that he quoted will seldom be remembered by anyone who heard him without an inseparable connection with his voice and genius. This exceedingly beautiful person was followed like Apollo from church to church, wherever the glory of his preaching led him, by all the most learned and intelligent young men with grateful admiration. His appearance in any pulpit lit every face with delight. The slightest anecdote of his behavior or conversation was eagerly picked up and repeated, and every young scholar could imitate the brilliant phrases of his sermons; good or bad, his voice... The church was dismissed, but the glowing image of that eloquent form followed the boy to his room, and not a sentence was written on the subject, nor was a declamation attempted in the College chapel. , but he showed young minds the omnipresence of his genius. Thus he raised the standard of taste in writing and speaking in New England.

All this, however, was a pure triumph of Rhetoric. This man had neither intellectual nor moral principles to teach. He had no thoughts. They soon asked themselves, when Massachusetts was full of its glory, what truths he put into circulation and how he enriched the general mind, and they agreed that it was only in grace of manners, only in a new perception of Greek beauty, that he opened up our eyes. It was noticed early on that he lacked warm personal friends. However, his genius made every youth his advocate, and the boys filled their mouths with arguments to prove that the orator had heart...

Everett's fame had the effect of giving the University a new shine - something it sorely needed. Students from the South and West flocked there from the farthest reaches of Georgia, Tennessee, Alabama, and Louisiana.

Well, this bright morning had a short continuation. Mr. Everett was soon attracted by vulgar political rewards, and coldly abandoned the splendid career that opened before him (which had been created, not by circumstance, but by his own genius) for a trip to Washington, where he was supposed to have the usual wealth of flattery. and humiliation, but it is wholly lost to all real and manly usefulness.

Everett lied about his manuscript being in his pocket, he read so well.

In every conversation, even the most elevated one, there is a trick, it seems, that a perceptive person can pick up quickly and then continue in that particular style indefinitely. This is true of Very's, Alcott's, Lane's and all those specialists or mystics; applies more to these than to other classes.

Ward himself said that men died to break their styles; but nature had nothing against Goethe's life, because he didn't create it.

September 27th was a beautiful day and Hawthorne and I were out for a walk. First we went to the factory where Mr. Damon manufactures Domett fabrics, but his factories were idle and the houses empty. Nothing so small, but it comes to honor and has its moment in the spotlight somewhere; and so it was here with our little Assabet or North Branch; fell on the rocks in silver and, above it, spread to this calm lake. After looking around for a few moments, we started down the road to Stow. The day was full of sunshine and it was a luxury to walk around in all that warm, colorful light. September days are so rich that it seems natural to walk to the limit of one's strength and then fall flat on one's face, saturated with fine torrents, and cry,Nunc let go mi.Fringed lincuri, thorn with red fruits, wild apples whose fruits hung like berries and vines decorated the path. We hardly know a man or ; the boy on our way did not even see the fields. This depopulation lasted the whole day. But the contours of the landscape were so smooth that it felt like we were in highly cultivated country, and elegant people must live just beyond the hills. Three or four times, or more times, we saw the entrance to his stately park. But nothing on the farms or in the houses made it good. And it must be considered that when any great brain is born in these cities, he is sent at sixteen or twenty to Boston or New York, and the land is cultivated only by an inferior class of people, another culture orcherry treeof men. Hence all those endless poverty stricken pig farms. In Europe, where society has an aristocratic structure, the country is full of people of the best class and the best culture, whose interest and pride it is to remain at least half a year in their estates, and to furnish them with every convenience and decoration. Of course, this is done through models of farms and architecture models, and they are a constant education for the eyes and hands of the surrounding population.

Our hike was uneventful. There was no need, because we were in excellent spirits, we talked a lot, because we were both old collectors who had never had the opportunity to show each other their cupboards, so we could fill much longer days with material. We agree that it takes some humor or extravagance in a traveler to give rise to an incident on his journey. Here we are sober people, easy to please, we stay out of the country and we don't sneak into any country house even to ask for a glass of milk. If not a penny in our pocket, or some caprice in our brain, drove us to these "huts where the poor lie," to desire dinner or lodging, it would be so easy to get into some web of domestic romance, to learn so much history. wretched private, we might see the first layer of blush on a young girl's cheeks when the mail did or didn't arrive, or even get tangled up in some gold or gray thread. On the other hand, the opportunities that inns once offered the traveler to witness and even participate in the banter and politics of coachmen and farmers on the road no longer exist. The Temperance Society emptied the bar. It's a cold place. Hawthorne tried to smoke a cigar, but I noticed that he soon left for the square. In the afternoon we reached Stow, had dinner, and then continued on to Harvard, making our day's march, according to our best estimate, about twenty miles. We covered the last few miles, however, in a carriage, having been challenged by a friendly gentleman, who knew my name, my father's name, and history, and who insisted on doing us the honor of his city and of us, his companions. citizens; for he honestly lodged us at the inn, introduced us to the doctor and the general—and gave the proprietor the utmost attention to our wishes. A view of the Nashua River Valley opens from the top of Oak Hill as we enter Harvard Village. The next morning, we begin our hike at 6:30 am to Shaker village, three and a half kilometers away. While the good sisters prepared our breakfast, we chatted with Seth Blanchard and Cloutman of the Brethren, who gave an honest account, yes and no, of their faith and practice. They were not stupid, like some I saw in your Society, nor worldly like others. The conversation on both sides was open enough; with honest, I'll be honest, I thought, and Seth showed some humor. I have no doubt that we would have dealt with them in good measure (not quite in the way Hayraddin Maugrabin dealt with the monks of Liège) if we had been able to stay twenty-four hours; though my powers of persuasion were paralyzed by the shameful cold and barking, and Hawthorne was inclined to play Jove rather than Mercurius. After breakfast, Cloutman showed us around the farm, vineyard, orchard, barn, pressing, etc. In the vineyard there were two noble arcades of grapes, one white and one Isabel, full of fruit; orchard, fine varieties of pears and peaches and apples.

Here they have fifteen hundred acres, a forest at Ashburnham, and a sheep pasture elsewhere, enough to supply the needs of two hundred souls in this family. They are in many respects an interesting society, but at the moment they have added importance as an experiment in socialism which therefore falls in with the mood of the time. What is improved is done forever; this capitalist is old and never dies, his existence is long assured, and he continues for many years to easily add compound interest to his stock. As a matter of fact, this village has great value in the heart of the country as a model farm, in the absence of that rural nobility we talked about yesterday. Here improvements were invented or adopted from other Shaker communities, which neighboring farmers saw and copied. From Shaker Village we came to Littleton and thence to Acton, still in the same excess of splendor. It was like a day in July, and we walked slowly home from Acton, to complete the nineteen miles of our second day before four o'clock.

In a city you enter for the first time at dusk, the trees and houses look picturesque in the twilight, but you cannot joke with old acquaintances.

There is something very pleasant about being tired. I'm more ready to die after having taken stock on market day; and seven times in his life, I suppose, every man sings, Now, Lord, let your servant go.

Landor, though like other poets was not happy in love, wrote admirable lines about passion. Perhaps, said Hawthorne, his disappointment taught them to write these things down. Well, it probably is. One of Landor's lines was worth a divorce; "Those for whom love is secondary love more than those for whom it is primary."

This thought appeared in all that the Shakers said about admitting members to their Society, that men came and proved themselves; they soon showed what they were, and stayed or went, as the Spirit showed, equallyto do comand the Society. No one was to join them for life: and no one was to be excluded because he was poor or bedridden, but only because he was not one of them.

Cloutman told us that their hospitality is expensive as they host all the friends of any member that visits for free.

We talked about Scott. There is some grandeur in defying posterity and writing for the class, as well as being a harpist.

Godliness, like chivalry, has no fixed pattern, but passes and disappears like a rainbow. Now, in your society, you cannot find any specimen of a religious man; you hear the glory of one; you go far and find him; and he begins, "I had a friend in my youth," &c. However, nothing seems to present as good an image in national sketches as the real Connecticut, if you could only get your hands on it.

At night the frogs made noise, but the eagle was silent on his rock.

If there is dullness in Wordsworth's last book, it is the dullness of a great and cultivated mind.

We have our own culture, like Allston, from Europe and we are European. Perhaps we must be content with that, and thank God for Europe a little while longer, and there will be no great Yankees, until, in the development of our population and power, England throws a beam, and English authors write for America; what should happen soon.

I have not yet begun to regret very much the inability to see any particular part of nature or art, but perhaps, as we live longer, we will begin to compare life's chances more closely with the things that can be seen in it, and to count the Niagaras we did not visit. To me, not just Niagara, but the Prairie, and the Ohio and Mississippi rivers are still just names. And yet, it is better to see nothing but your village than to go cold-bloodedly and laboriously to see the Mecca of Minds. It was really an enlargement, a doubling of life, if, in good company and with reason, I could go to Italy; but Florence is not Florence if the visit is forced.

Greed, ambition, almost all talents, are restless and wandering; they go up to cities; but Religion is a good root.

November 8.

The world's trade relations are so intimately bound up with London that it seems that every dollar in the world has contributed to the strengthening of the English government.

It is ridiculous to solemnly cite what young W. said in his sermon as decisive of his belief in this or that. These young preachers are just lacewings, chirping now in the bushes, now on the ground, but they mean nothing by their chirping. It must be very green to infer anything about their character from what they say.

What is the meaning of the exquisite taste of Indian names that now appear on all hotels and buses?

Edward Washburn told me they sell racks full of Coleridge's in Andoverhelped to do Reflectionin a year.

Queenie says that Edie spends half her time looking innocent and the other half looking dignified. Nelly, asleep in her bed, had the look and bearing of one riding the horse of Night.

Edmund Hosmer believes that much unnecessary labor is spent on feeding animals, especially pigs and horses. Many farmers are just a horse or a pig.

At the Shakers' house at Harvard, I found a spirit level on the window seat, a very fine emblem of the Society; but alas, neither the table, nor the shelf, nor the window seat was tall.

There seem to be people, both men and women, who violate all rules of prudence, and yet have unsurpassed health and produce much; and it seems better, if one can get a good exception, to live off the road than to keep the highway.

The sons of great men must be great; if they are small, it is because they eat too much cake, which is unfortunate; or because your parents married dolls.

"The source of their economy fed the source of their generosity."

November 12.

The merit of a poem or a tragedy is a matter of experience. Intelligent youth can find little beauty in Greeks or Romans. These tragedies, these songs, are cold and gentle. Nature and all the events on the street are more important to him, he says, than an acute and immutable crisis.Was FilledorAntigone;and as for thoughts, your own thoughts are better and more numerous. So says one, so say all. At the moment, each of them tries to express his thought; - but in this there is a certain rigidity, or a certain extravagance. Everyone tries and everyone fails, each due to some unusual and different failure. The whole era of authors tries; many ages try; and in millions and millions of experiments these admittedly soft and hard songs of the Ancients are still the best. It seems certain that they will remain dissatisfied, but they emphasize the intelligent youth of future generations.

But it will always find its admirers, not in the creative and enthusiastic few, who will always feel their ideal inferiority, but in the elegant, cultured, conservative class.

You praise Homer and don't appreciate the art that creates tragedy. To me she seems superior - an unpopular and austere muse who throws human life into great tragedy,Prometheus Village(halfway between an epic and an ode)—but the art of the epic poet, which descends more to common humanity, and approaches the ballad. A man is nine parts fool and one part wise, and therefore Homer and Chaucer are better read than prayers.Comus.

realization of Money.Men think there's some magic to it...

The worst times that happened to anyone were good. There's always someone in the gap.

Shallow is he who insults men and their inventions and does not see the Divine behind all their institutions and all their fetishes, even behind those that are hateful and worthless; they are also documents of beauty. The practice of prayer is not philosophical - there is something absurd and ridiculous about it in the eyes of science; it is juvenile and, like children's games, though meaningless, but very useful and instructive nonsense. And so with all our things...

Boston's prosperity is an unexpected consequence of Steam - communication. The terrible cost of steam makes Boston's closer proximity to Europe a circumstance of great importance - and the ports of Havre and Liverpool are two days closer to Boston than to New York. This superiority of the steam mail, added to the simultaneous opening of its great railway lines, such as the iron rivers, which already make it a flour warehouse for western New York, Michigan, Illinois, promise great prosperity to that city.

I woke up regretting having settled with B. and not having preferred to throw myself completely into their sense of justice. An Olympian must be an Olympian in direction and actions wherever he can be symmetrical, not rough - and he must dare a little and try his hand at Olympic trials. So brave and better again.

Man cannot be delivered by any selfless ordinances, nor by water, nor by potatoes, nor by violent passivation, refusing to swear, refusing to pay taxes, going to prison, or stealing another person's crop or taking care of your own home. earth, - by none of these means can he break free.; no, nor paying your debts with money; only by submitting to your own genius; only by the freest activity in his own way does the angel seem to rise up and lead him by the hand from all the prison wards.

money Leste to change Blood

tailor's wax,

Lumberjack axe, -

They pay taxes.

I think Dr. Channing was an intellectual by virtue of his good moral sense, not principally... his work on Milton contained the true doctrine of inspiration; "Milton obeys more laws than he breaks them."

When a friend has just died, the survivor does not yet feel pain, but the anticipation of pain. He hadn't been deprived of her company long enough to feel the need for her. He is surprised and now under some intellectual excitement, busy and somewhat amused by the novelty of the event, and investigates his change of state. It protects you from sadness. Only when the funeral procession does not leave your door and the mourners return to their usual activities and forget about the deceased, does mourning for a friend begin. In the midst of his work, in the midst of his leisure, in his now uncommunicated thoughts, in his now futile successes, in his now rapidly dashed and lost hopes, he sees with bitterness how miserable he is. As it is with the mourner, so it is with the virtuous man in relation to the practice of virtue. The evil practices of land and time are exposed by some preacher of righteousness, and after a while the noise of reform fills the land. People congratulate themselves on the great evil they escaped and on the significant progress of society. But it is not until this tumult is over, and all, one after another, have adopted the new practice, and the reaction has taken place, and great numbers have been horrified and turned back, only then does the true reformer, the noble man, begin to find his virtue and advantage. Through the noise he said nothing,

—— he embraced the revealed right, immediately and forever. Now society has returned to what it was before, but he has added this beauty to his life.

O First Danish.vashe candoing two things at once; and when you have your pockets full of chestnuts and say I wasted my half an hour, here you have something more, for the peaks of the Silver Mountains of the White Isle rose when you stood under the tree and shone for a moment; therefore there are nonefirst of cooked.

Life.Everything is fine, we say, on the road. ANDvirtuosowith great difficulty he hunts down Guercino's landscape, Salvator's crayon sketch, but the Transfiguration, the Last Judgment, the Communion, are on the walls of the Vatican where any footman can see them without price. You got Shakespeare's autograph for five hundred pounds; but for nothing the student does not know how to read and, if he has eyes, he can discover secrets not yet published and of the greatest importance in them. I don't think I'll ever read anything but the commonest of all books: the Bible, Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Homer,

Someone called out to him from the hickory forest, "Ho! Ho! Make sure they aren't imposed on you. Ho! Ho!" And Arthur rubbed his eyes and looked around and begged him not to. But at night he realized that the whole trip had been a mistake and he had been a fool. The next morning when he awoke he heard his old neighbor calling to the cattle in the yard below his window, and when Arthur looked out the man said, "Ho! Ho! Be careful they don't force themselves on you. Ho! Ho!" Warned, Arthur thought once more.

Sannup and squaw cannot get drunk at the same time. They take turns maintaining sobriety, and husband and wife should never be depressed at the same time, but each should be able to lift the other's spirits.

We learn with joy and wonder at this flattering new art of language, deluded by the euphoria that accompanies obtaining each new word. We think we are achieving something. We received nothing. It seemed to people that words were closer to things; described the fact; they were a fact. Later they find out that they are just hinting at it. It's a twisted, operatic way of reminding us of things, of getting our attention. But it was revealed slowly. With what good faith these old books of barbarous peoples record the beginning of the world. His best attempts to tell how star and earth and man came to be, end up in some gigantic mythology, which, when finished, leaves the beautiful main facts where they were, and the stupid myth-writer as far away from them as possible. initially. Garulity is our religion and philosophy. They are surprised and angry that some slight their books and give priority to the thing itself. But with all the progress that happens, this speech becomes less and less and finally ends in noble silence.

I, oh, I'm just here to see. The humorous privilege of spectatorship that we all feel; I have an unquestionable assumption when I hear that a good man is coming, that this man is honest, coherent and that his conscience is much more faithful and efficient than mine. And unfortunately he has the same feeling towards me and the others, that it is not him but me and them who are responsible.

There is not much difference between our parties: the Democratic Party is no more human than

Whig. I think the leaders, from my little experience, are worse men than the Whig leaders. I think their democracy has no more principles than conservatism; that Whigism is only a little worse. They don't have higher goals. Voting for any party is Whiggism, and it is just a little more so to vote for those whose bias is conservatism. I sympathize very much with the Whigs in this "romulus scum", and cannot for a moment allow that scum of Tammany Hall andMorning Postadventurers who represent the cause of humanity and love.

It's disgusting that all our good geniuses have this imperfection, that they can't do anything useful...

Joy is such a natural order that the superabundant joy of a child lying on its back and not yet strong enough to get up or sit down, but cooing, twittering, laughing, shouting with joy, is an image of independence which makes power a part of of independence. Queenie watches Edie lift both legs in the air and thinks Edie is saying “the world was made on purpose to carry a little baby; and the world revolves around the sun just to bring bottle time and floor crawl time for baby.

Ogden respected nothing in - as far as this persistent trick of asking questions at breakfast and 'Change, at work and before bed, between glasses of wine or drops for temperature, questions relating to God and duty, the salvation of soul. The devil took you and your soul! said Ogden; but, on reflection, nothing seemed to him to have found in Marseilles more respectable than this decided curiosity and consideration in a being so much inferior, in so much superior.

And really and truly - this is how a man must end - we cannot spare even the grossest ammunition of virtue, and the purest sense of justice that lives in every human breast needs a law based on force as an indicator and a reminder .

Margaret [Fuller] described E. as having a wandering and indirect nature. But he is a good bum and knows how to walk. Gypsy talent is priceless in the country, and so rare. He would be charming in a woman. Margaret Fuller doesn't have a particle, just a possibility. And yet it's a relative talent, and undoubtedly there's a Gypsy for everyone. I told Hawthorne yesterday that I thought that every young person, at one time or another, is inclined to experience both divine and diabolical originality like Rabelais. He would jump to the top of the nearest fence and croak. He does an experiment, but it turns out to be a pig lead flight in the air, which even the poorest chicken cannot withstand. Irresistible customs fatten him, he writes messengers and contracts instead of odes. However, there is an imitation and model, or suggestion, of the archangels themselves, if we knew his story and if we knew the reading of Rabelais, we would see the hill of the river Rabelais. However, his place on Parnassus is as firm as Homer's. A wild card, but he's the joke of the world, not Touchstone, Clown or Harlequin. His wit is universal, not accidental, and the anecdotes of the time, which became the first stroke of satire and which have been lost, are meaningless, because wit goes beyond any single label and penetrates into lasting relationships and interests. His joke will suit any city or community of people.

Style suddenly decides the high quality of a man. It flows like the Amazon River, so rich, so abundant, so transparent and with such great extensions, that longevity or foresight that belongs to Plato. There is no sand without lime, there is no short, thin and poor epigrammatist or proverbial writer of anchored phrases, but inexhaustible wealth.

Only a young man thinks there is something new on Wall Street. The trader who figures there, both for his own satisfaction and for the admiration, fear or hatred of younger or weaker competitors, is a very old business. You will find him, his way of thinking about the world, men, property, food and drink, marriage, education, religion and government - the whole range of his opinions, the tone of his colors, the same laughter, same knowledge, same disbelief, same skill and taste, in Rabelais and Aristophanes. Panurge was a good Wall Street. Pyrrhonism and Transcendentalism are equally ancient; and I am convinced that we shall soon find them in the chemical element, that too much oxygen makes a sinner and hydrogen a saint.

"My nocturnal visitors," said the excellent professor Fortinbras, "if they don't see the clock, they must find the time in my face." As soon as it's nine I start cursing them with internal secretions that are small weapons." And yet, he added, "let the devil use half-hospitality, that self-protective politeness whose invitations to dinner are decided exclusions from the heart of the inviter. , as if to say: 'I invite you to eat, because I will not talk to you.' If he dared say so, that exception would be the hospitality of an angel, the acknowledgment of the thoughts of his heart."

Mary Rotch was inclined to speak negatively of the spirit, and instead of calling it light, "oracle", "guidance", she said: "When she did what she should not, she met with objections".

It's sad the speed with which life culminates and the lowliness of most people's expectations...

In Indian summers, of which we have eight or ten a year, you can almost see the Indians under the forest trees. These are the conciliatory days that arrive to turn autumn into winter and comfort us after the first cold ones. Sorcerers, both predictions and memory, look beyond December and January to the dark light of March and April.

I have a feeling, concerning Homer and the Greeks, that in this great and empty continent of ours, which stretches vastly almost from half to half, with thousands of long rivers and thousands of mountain ranges, the rare scholar, who, under the roof of a farm, reads Homer and the Tragedies, adorns the earth. He begins to infuse intelligence, to balance the vast disproportion of the immortal land. He who first reads Homer in America is his Cadmus and Numa, and a subtle but boundless benefactor.

Rabelais must not be ignored in the history of literature, as he is the source of so many proverbs, stories and jokes derived from him in all modern books in all languages. He is the Joe Miller of modern literature.

You will read Homer, Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes, Plato, Proclus, Plotinus, Iamblichus, Porphyry, Aristotle, Virgil, Plutarch, Apuleius, Chaucer, Dante, Rabelais, Montaigne, Cervantes, Shakespeare, Jonson, Ford, Chapman, Beaumont and Fletcher, Bacon, Marvell, More, Milton, Moliere, Swedenborg, Goethe.

Not every spinner is a spider. Society—what a delicate result! No matter how good work colleagues they may be, society will certainly fall apart, even if excessively,... Let's not meet to fight; let's meet to rest. Let us recklessly rid ourselves of these intrusive selves and their vain talents, and abide, for a while, in great peace. Self-respect and brotherly love seem to demand silence equally.

You will have joy or you will have power, said God; you won't have both.

books.Theophrastus said "that the most illiterate could speak in the presence of the most elegant people, while they spoke nothing but truth and reason".

Every man writes after a trick and you don't have to read many sentences to learn the whole trick. Richter is a perpetual exaggerator and I get nervous.

October arrived, the harvest arrived and the need for a journalist to make indexes for the winter primaries. Let's consider...

Our handsome cousin reminded us of the ferocious terrier who considers it an honor dog's duty to bark at all passers-by, be he a poet or a reformer, and honors the house by barking out of sight.

People are sensitive vessels that can be transported across the sea, more sensitive than porcelain and Sèvres glass, or tropical fruits, because even the slightest rejection of them in the minds and hearts of those to whom they come creates cruelty, futility and confusion. . The thought that immediately came to mind when the strangers arrived was: were you a victim of being brought here? Yes or no? Or, before that, answer me: are you a victim? So are you going to waste my time? Or, are you afraid I'll waste yours? If so, we'll make a deal like lovers.


November 19.

To do dele TiaNothing interested us as much as the departure of Dr. Channing, and perhaps the saddest thing is that we don't care anymore. Our vast country has few people; none for which a man would die; above, no one to live for. If the great God shone so close to the bosom that we could not look away from other manifestations, such slander against our Channings and Websters would be joy and praise; but if we are neither devout nor worshipers of men - I would like you to write me what you think of your former preacher, after as much time of perspective as your good times will permit. For a sick man he has managed to put a lot of healthy people to shame and seems to have made the most of his time and been brilliant over the last month and week. Above all, a respectable life; and it deserves greater praise that there is so much in it that it is only external and a sort of creature of society; — the kind of merit whose praise is a legitimate compensation. Sometimes it seems like the sublimity of calculus, the closest this mechanism can get to the flow of genius. His last years - perhaps before - were decorated with a series of sacrifices... While he lived, he was the star of the American church and left no successor in the pulpit... The strictest judges of the dead, who will consider our wishes and theirs strict self-application to them, and fidelity to their lights, will pardon this Soul when she passes by and says, This man has done well. Maybe I think much better of him too. From himmiltoneuNapoleonthey were excellent for their time (it is believed that he suffered from lack of practice and thorough training as a writer) and will be fine ornaments to his biography.

We are very ungrateful, but we do not willingly give the name of poet to any of the rarest talents, nor to work and skill in meter. Here is Tennyson, a man of subtle and progressive mind, a musical box perfect for all kinds of delicate tones and rhythms, to whom language seems plastic, so overwhelming and powerful in his thoughts. — But is he a poet? We read Burns and said, He's a poet. We read Tennyson and do him the disservice of asking: Is he a poet? I feel in him the disgrace of time. He is a strict contemporary, not the Eternal Man. It does not spring from our low limits like Chimborazo down the line, running from the hot foothills through all climates of the globe on its high sides and colored with rings of plants from all latitudes, but in it as in authors and through all the varied music. I hear the original tones of the common, that my meaning would be clearer, say, a common man. They are talented people who sing, but they are not children of music. The particularity that most deserves attention under this generality is this (and it is black ingratitude to accept it that way), that the argument of the poem is secondary, the end of the verses primary. The brightness of the versification draws me to the sense, not the other way around. Anyone who has read "Ode to Memory", "The Poet", "Confessions of a Sensitive Mind", "Two Voices", remembers the scope of the poem when it is named and does not evoke some beautiful verse; or, in reading it, does it not need a little attention to find the writer's thought, which is also quite poor and vile? Even on "Locksley Hall", which has a more proud tone, I have to keep an eye on the thought or it will leave me. It is the merit of the poet to be unanalyzable. We cannot interrupt his word and thought. We listen because we must, and we become aware of a multitude of special merits, having been fully ordained and exalted. I shouldn't go to these books for total amusement and thought stimulation any more than I should go to the Catskills or the Sea or Homer or Chaucer or Shakespeare.

To the producers of artificial flowers, we say

"the better the worse." The best lyricist, who is not inspired, is responsible for the feeling and spirit of his work; it never exceeds its own dimensions. But the inspired writer, let his verse never be so frivolous in its subject or treatment - mere beat verse or street verse - yet he is not responsible for the work, but has come as if from the trachea of ​​the great animal world. . . So these passages about owls, autumn gardens and the sea are not colored by London philosophy, which makes the best of "inconsolable preachers", but are quite independent of Mr. Alfred Tennyson and Naturals.

A certain poor man did not have enough of a stove, which required a great part of the winter to tend to it: he got up early to make a fire, and was very careful not to put it out. He interrupted his work at all hours of the day to feed him: he kept him up late at night, lest the walls of the chamber be desperately cold. But he never warmed up the room, shivered, hoping it would get better, but lost a lot of time and comfort.

At the same time, Latin and Greek were closely connected with all the science and culture that existed in Europe, and mathematics had an immediate importance in an era of activity in the physical sciences. These things have become stereotyped as

Life is so much greater than thought that when we discuss a subject of serious personal interest with someone with whom we have hitherto had only intellectual conversation, we use lower tones, much less eloquence, but we get very close and quickly become familiar.

(From N)

November 26.

Boston is not a very bad place, as I met George Bancroft, Horatio Greenough, Sampson Reed, Sam Ward, Theodore Parker and George Bradford yesterday walking down the street and had a little chat with each of them.

I doubt you noticed what pleased me so much when Jones Very reported, many years ago, that the patients at McLean Asylum thanked him several times when he left and said he had been a great help to them.

The foreigners brought with them a whole library of mystical writers, and the first feeling I get when I see them is that I'm too old for so many books. This is for younger men, and what fuel, what food for open-minded young men is here! Then comes the proposal of our old university plan, but these men, though excellent, none of them have the gift of leadership. They are admirable instruments for the master's hands, if here is some Pythagoras, some Mirabeau leader, some royal Alfredo; he couldn't have had better teachers than Alcott, Lane and Wright. But they are too fickle, ignorant, imperfect and capricious to be trusted with any progress - excellent sources, useless regulators. Alcott is a unique person, a natural Levite, a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek, whom all good people would readily associate, it would be said, to keep as a priest by voluntary contribution to live in his house, literary, spiritual and choosing their own methods of teaching and action. But for the founder of a family or an institution, I would immediately let myself raise money for a madman.

Read Cornelius Agrippa this morning on the Vanities of Arts and Sciences; another example of that scribalism that characterizes the great readers of his time. Robert Burton is the head of the class... You can't afford to read just a few sentences. He will learn more through prayer. They are good for reading... for suggestion, I use them a lot for that. Plato or Shakespeare are not suggestive. Their method is so high and thin that they take a lot out of us.

Communities will never have men in them, but only halves and quarters. They demand the sacrifice of what cannot be sacrificed without harm. The community should always be ideal...

Men talk all the time about ideas, not people; they name people, but it's just illustrative, they really follow thoughts - the people they talk about are like metaphors that don't support much obstinacy - they don't walk on all fours, as we say. So they praise peasant life, but it is only to express a feeling of something bad in the merchants: praise the peasants a little more and you will see that they don't like it. The man is biased.

Today I think that the common people are right and that literary justice is right. This London newspaper is sure to suit any new book. Books full of matter accept; because the thing is like atmosphere or bread, and a small thank you to the author of the book. But other books of thought, poetry, taste, in which the author chiefly appears, they readily condemn if they are not worthy of admiration; and if they are not admirable, such books are accursed. But people - no thanks to them - are almost always right, they have an inferior kind of right, the right of common sense and instinct; and a man of transcendent talent and ingenuity is wrong.

"Don't waste your gifts

In free await the descent of the gods.”

"If God takes me to his throne, believe me

That I should just listen to your words

To achieve your own goals."

Paracelsusit was written for the natural history of a scholar who, following his ambition through great success, ends up becoming a charlatan. He is too proud for that, he is too impatient with quackery and tells his friend that he cannot afford to be honest with a friend, so he opens up to him and with all scorn and bitterness portrays the quackery and barrenness of its results and the despair into which it sinks. And there the Poet leaves him, an incurable disease. The laws of disease are as beautiful as the laws of health, say the doctors, and the poet is of this opinion, so he is content to paint the symptoms with great precision and eloquence. But the music fades, the wolf's hunger for knowledge alone.

Lane and Wright, our friends, brought with them a thousand volumes, undoubtedly one of the best mystical libraries in the world, and twelve volumes of the manuscripts of J. P. Greaves and his plastered head; and with these occupations they think they brought England with them; that the England they left behind was a congregation of nothing, without spirit, and therefore not to be taxed, starved, or led into revolution.

Couldn't they die? or success? or help yourself? or draw others? at any rate, no matter how, could they not be wiped out and left to loom on the horizon as a disordered phenomenon, too big to be neglected and not big enough to be of any help or comfort to this great yearning of humanity?

Few strokes and many colors: they draw a lion, then a lion, then a little red lion! there is a fact in the writer's mind, but so close to the facts known in other minds that he dare not enunciate it simply lest it would be worth saying it, but partly conceals it in rich clothes and figures.

Yet all the facts at hand, such as those celebrated by Paracelsus and lamented by George Bradford, the wolfish hunger for knowledge that still leaves us famished, and the disfigured and degraded condition of the scholar, as if his heart and entrails had been ripped out, deserve the closer study, for such a way of seeing in men, u

Carlyle, or any scholar already dry and dead, is just an announcement of the shortcomings of the Universe. Nature herself has not hitherto been able to carry her inclinations further: and the Bulletin or Herald in which she always publishes her news is man. Therefore, Carlyle, Browning, Bradford must represent the judgment of God to the last date.

We are not interested in the theme, but in the speaker. Mr. Webster or Mr. Allston can give me his opinion on anything they want, I'll learn his philosophy; for really every point is equidistant from the center, be it a beetroot, a rutabaga or a Gnostic sect.

The material is nothing; proportion is everything.

Fourier our Paracelsus.

Oh, if they could take the second step, and the third! The reformer is so self-assured that everyone stands up straight as he points the finger at his private abuse and talks about his great need in America. I tell him, yes, but not only in America, but in the Universe since it is known, exactly this malfunction has appeared. But when he anatomizes evil, he will either be called out of the room or something else will be on his mind. It will never be fixed. But Charles Lane describes very well his conversation with Brownson, which would have led to a fight. He took a pen and paper from his pocket and asked Brownson to name the deepest men in America. Brownson stopped and gave him one, then another, then his for the third. Brownson will never stop and listen, not even in conversation but, moreover, not even in solitude.

Purposeful people should always rule the aimless. And yet, he will always be a songbird.

Unity.Many voices claim this, Fourier, Owen, Alcott, Channing. And its effect will be magical. This is what will restore the institutions and destroy the nausea. But not in the way these people think, not in any of their ways. But only in a method that combines union with isolation: quiet union, real separation; ideal community, real independence.

If a man kicks a suit out the window, when he returns, he finds it again in the corner of the chimney.

Time respects only what it has made itself.

The English remarked that the greatest domestic advantage they saw in our Commonwealth over theirs lay in the women. In England women were quite insensitive to all liberal thought; whereas here they are smart and ready.

Henry Thoreau made a beautiful observation last night that while a man is in his own way, everything seems to be in his way, governments, society and even the sun, moon and stars, as astrology can testify.

"It is a pity that we did not achieve our ambition to live well, because, I suppose, all thoughtful people must agree that, while there is selfishness and frivolity, the general purpose of a large number of people is fidelity... we too have a house in the form of a woman (which is naturally good) a guiding conscience which keeps it right, and yet we do no better, yet we come so little, it seems there must be mountains of difficulty to be lifted.

November 11.

A selfish man suffers more from his selfishness than one whose selfishness deprives him of some important benefit...

Today I feel, to a degree I've never experienced before, that debates like yesterday's and many others like it I've participated in are attacking and hurting me. I have often felt an emptiness and disquiet to the point of a kind of hatred against the human race after such prayers by myself and my kindred, but never so seriously as now is their absence better for me than active participation in them.

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You can unite for whatever you want, for the economy, or for good neighborliness, for school, or for any reason, just don't say that the Divine Spirit commands. The Spirit separates you from all associations and makes you, to your astonishment, secretly a member of the Universal Association, but does not descend into any particulars, does not make up the statutes of the Society, but leaves you as you were in that matter, to be guided by your convenience and special circumstances, whether you join others or go it alone.

It seems to be true that our New England population was colonized by England's most religious and ideal Puritans. It is natural that we are more ideal than old England.

It is a great liberty to offer to lend a man a book, as if he, too, were unaware of the truth that the bookmaker had access to. Each one of the books, if I read them, conquers me, moves me; the law is, that to be first, give way to him; I, who have no right to yield, and if I want to be serene and divine again, must throw the book away.

And yet I expect a great man to be a good reader, or, in proportion to spontaneous power, to be assimilating power.

Each book ends up serving us only to add a word to our vocabulary, or maybe two or three. And maybe this word is not in the notebook or is just the author's name. And yet there are books of non-vulgar origin, but works and proofs of skill so comprehensive, so almost equal to the universe they paint, that though one closes them down to the meanest, still he says with a sigh: That was to be read for thousands of years by some stream in paradise.

Do not babble, babble and mystify. Here our dear great Alcott says: You will dig in my field for a day and I'll give you a dollar when I'm done, and it won't be a business transaction! I'm sick. As long as money is a measurereallythat we all adopt as the most convenient measure of all material values, let us not affectively neglect that name, let us mystify ourselves and others; let's not "say no and get it". We may well and sincerely make theoretical and practical objections to it; if they are harmful to the use of money and exchange, let us stop using them; if they are less serious than the inconveniences of the suspension of traffic, let us not pretend that we are done with it, while we eat, drink, dress and breathe.

Don't be too coy and stingy about your actions. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you do, the better. What if they're a little rough and you could stain or tear the coat? What if you still fail and roll in the dirt once or twice? Get up again, you'll never be so afraid of falling again. This class question, for example. Engagement forces your thoughts and studies into your head and allows you to do something that otherwise wouldn't be feasible; it is an action. Then comes the reaction; because when you deliver your speech in front of your audience it is presented differently. You have more power than you thought, or less. The thing fits, or it doesn't fit; it's good or bad.

It is a peculiar feature of New England that young farmers and mechanics who work all summer on the land or in trade attend school in the winter months. Mr. Fay, a pump-maker in this town, is going to Marlborough this winter for that purpose; young Wheeler and Wood do the same thing.

Five years ago, Edmund Hosmer was ready to sell his farm for $3,800 and head out West. He found, and still finds, that the Irishmen, of whom there are two hundred in this town, underestimate him at work, and he does not see how he and his boys can do what only he is willing to do; for he will not go to market, nor will his children, with his consent, do any of those things for which high wages are paid, as, for instance, taking over any shop, or the post of foreman or agent in any corporation in which he appears to be a prize. paid for the skill, as if it were paid for the skill to cheat. He doesn't see how he and his children are going to prosper here, and the only way for them is to run, the Caucasian before the Irish.

I call the terror of famine skepticism, and say that I do not believe I can put myself in any condition where I cannot honestly support myself and be honestly rich, that is, not be poor. It is in vain that you tell me of any case of accident or misfortune - Hardest, a weaver from Manchester, a slave to Caroline; I have no doubt that in the history of the individual, his condition is always taken into account, and that he knows that it is part of his current state. Put me in his condition and I will see his openings and reliefs, though I do not see them now. The main and capital remedy for religious feeling, and all the abundance of their advice for their particular problems, was atheism, which could be doubted. But don't ask me, sitting here, to tell him what he should do over there. I can never mess with other people's facts, I've had enough. But I do know one thing, that it's my fault if I don't clean up, and that my condition coincides, point for point, with everyone else's condition. I can only use my facts.

Last night Henry Thoreau read me verses that pleased me, if not for the beauty of the individual lines, but for the honest truth, the duration of the flight and the strength of the wings; for most of our poets are only writers of verse or epigrams. At least these Henrys have brute strength and we're not hitting rock bottom. It is their fault that the gold still does not flow cleanly, but is fragile and raw. Honey is not yet made from thyme and marjoram; assimilation is imperfect. It seems that all poetry was written ahead of time... But it is a great pleasure to have high school poetry, and the mass here, as in other cases, is a kind of compensation for the supreme quality, because I think I was stimulated and happy. like someone who sees a load of sea shells fall on the dock, whole boxes and crates of shells,cypresscones,neritas,though there must have been no pearly oysters among them, not a single shell of great rarity and value.

Time is a little gray man who takes first a wallet from his coat pocket, then Dollond's telescope, then a turkey, then four saddled and harnessed boats and a sumptuous canvas tent. We are used to chemistry and this does not surprise us. But chemistry is just a name for changes and developments as wonderful as this breastplate.

I was a chubby little kid spinning hoops in Chauncy Place and reciting Scott and Campbell poetry in the Latin School. But Time, the little gray-haired man, has taken from his waistcoat pocket a large, awkward house (on the corner of which I am sitting and writing about it), several acres of land, several adults, and several very young people. , and sat them down near me; so he completely removed that little fat and that ring (of course, he left declamation and poetry), and left here a long and thin person who threatens to be a gray man, like himself.

Religion has failed! Yes, another man's faith failed to save me. But it saved him. We speak of the past with pity and reproach, but through the horrors, evils, and trials of the past, saints and heroes have glided to heaven. There is no place in Europe that has been a battleground; there is no religion, no church, no sect, no year of history, but he ministered to men to rise up, scale the walls of heaven and enter the feasts of angels. Our parents were saved. It was always the same, exactly the same conflicts as now, with minor changes in scenery and costumes.

(de Z)

November 19.

I would be happy to tell you about one of those conversations. For example, we had one yesterday afternoon. I begged Alcott to paint his design, and he went on to say that a farm of one hundred acres should be found in excellent condition, with good buildings, a good orchard, and land considered very well improved; and that must be bought and given to them in the first place. I replied: You are asking too much. This doesn't solve the problem; there are hundreds of innocent youth, who, if you thus strengthen, endow, and protect, will not find it difficult to maintain their innocence. And seeing your peaceful family, after all that's been done for them, is not going to teach or strengthen me in any way. Rather, he will teach and strengthen me who, wherever he is, without help, in the midst of poverty, difficulties and trafficking, will leave their corruption and build in his land a house of peace and benefits, good customs. and free thoughts. But, replied Alcott, how could this be done? How can I, who have to support my wife and family, do this? I replied that he wasn't the type of person who would do that, or he wouldn't have asked the question. When the one to come is born, he will not only see what needs to be done, but he will invent life, he will invent ways and means to do it. The way you would show me is not recommended to me as the path to greatness.

The Spirit does not prescribe land and exemption from taxation, but in great affliction and scarcity, or even without land, where he cannot rest his head, he succeeds, without asking for land, to occupy and enjoy the whole earth, because it is the law by which the earth exists; he sorts and arranges all creation again. If you are looking for a request for details about thisTo place of oI will say that the cooperation you seek is the same as that which colleges and all secular institutions seek: - money. Real collaboration comes another way. A man unexpectedly shows me what I and all souls are looking for, and I cry out, "This is it; Take me and mine; I consider it my chief good to do just that in my own way." “This is real cooperation, unlimited, incalculable, infinite cooperation.

The spirit is not so slow or indirect, or in need of conditions or organs, as you suppose. Several people during my life have appeared to me at certain times, not measured men of five feet, five or ten inches, but large, immense, indeterminate; but they were not large landowners, nor heads of communities, nor men in office, or in any action affecting large numbers of people, but, on the contrary, nothing could be more private, they were in some need, or distress. , or another relationship that provoked the emanation of the Spirit, which dignified and transformed them in my eyes. And the good Spirit will burn and burn in the ashes of his condition, in the efforts of his effort, - in the very process of pulling us out of the evil of want and bad society.

This fatal error continues to appear in the logic of our friends: all their doctrine is spiritual, but they always end up saying: Give us lots of land and money. If I gave them anything, it would be relief, not charity. Unless someone says according to the maxim of the world, let them drink their own illusion to the full, and this will be the best corn. I know the Spiritafter dele victorious

The man whose role has been taken and who expects no companionship anywhere in his life has immense strength. It is now clear from our three adventurers that this gives them the greatest importance to us, and the conclusions that can be drawn from each are their hesitations to take the plunge, the reservations they still have, and the confidence and expectations they still have. appreciate the hand of flesh, the help of others.

A reformer must be born; such reasons can never make it so. All reformation, like all form, is by the grace of God, and not otherwise.

You ask, O Theanore, said Amphitryon, that I leave this palace with my wife and children, and that you and your family may enter and possess it. Essentially the same request was made to me many times by multiple people. Now I also think that my wife and I should leave this house, work all day in the fields and lie under some bush at night, but I wait where I am, only until some god shows me who among all these candidates, you or another , true seeker.

Transcendentalism is the Saturnalia of faith. It's crazy faith. Nature is transcendental...

It seemed strange to the people that they forgot so quickly, that they became suspicious, that there was some betrayal, and that they began to suspect that their food could be the bread they ate, or the meat, the narcotics. Hence the Graham Societies.

The government must find its perfection in the obedience and good application of the elemental fluids. Because people will have their effect and things will have their own - we are sure anyway.

I think that the power of things is such that the will to property is exercised by the law or against the law, openly or covertly. It was evidently the sentiment and right of a ruder age to say that the people should make laws for people, property for property. But now we begin to feel that people are the only interest, and that ownership will follow; that the farm does not need special care. Let us be wise, and the culture of the people is the end of government, love will write the law, and the law thus given will be mild.

Since I'm here in New York, I'm less insecure about my political views. I assumed democracy had to be right for once. I see that they are aimless. Whigs have the best men, Democrats the best. But the latter are destructive, not constructive. What hope, what end do they have?

(the K)

November 25.

I read Dickens yesterdayamericano Grades.It serves its purpose very well, which was clearly to make a readable book, nothing more. The truth isn't his goal at any point, but just making good points in an animated series, and he does that very well. As a representation of America, it should not be considered for a moment: it is too short and too narrow, too shallow and too ignorant, too small and too fairytale, and a man wholly unfit for the job. A very lively ruffian in this disturbance, sea navigation, is the first head; and a fair enough instance of the historical truth of the whole book. On each page we can hear the dialogue between the author and his editor: “Mr. Dickens, a book should be fun - that's important. True? The damn truth! I'm telling you, it must be fun." As a picture of American customs, nothing could be more false. In real life in this country, these conversations, as he speaks, never happen. He took and dutifully wrote down all the curious local phrases he found and , when he had a story to tell, he sewed them together, so that the broadest caricature resulted; and the scene might have been enacted as truly in Wales or England as in the United States. Monstrous exaggeration is the easy secret of the novel. But those Americans who, like some of us from Massachusetts, don't like to spit, will go from Maine to New Orleans and find no more than we should in Britain or France. So with "yes", so with " repairs", like soap and towels; and all the other curiosities that this insignificant person discovered while traveling halfway around the world. The book is just a lame excuse for its author, who certainly does not appear in a dignified or enviable position...

(From N)

November 26.

Young people like Brownson, Channing, Greene, Elizabeth P. Peabody and maybe

Bancroft, think that the vice of the age is the exaggeration of individualism, and they take Le Roux's word and seek"o race."Hence the phalanx, Owenism, Simonism, communities. The same spirit in theology has produced Puseyism, which seeks to bring to the fore the "Church" as the scales and weight of conscience.

London, New York, Boston are ready-made phalanxes where you'll find concerts, books, dances, medical lectures, prayers or Punch and Judy, as you wish, any night or day.

It doesn't matter whether you show the child a new object or a new relationship to an old object. You can give him another toy or show him that the iron block between his blocks is a magnet. A greedy man seeks to increase the number of his toys, a scientific man to find new relationships.

You can never hurt us with new ideas. God bless you, reformers.

Bancroft and Bryant are historic Democrats interested in dead or organized liberty, but not in organization. Bancroft would not have met George Fox, whom he so highly praised, if he had met him in the street. It's like Lyell's science, which he didn't know by sight, when George B. Emerson showed them the shells he described in his Geology.

I think the four walls are one of our best institutions. A man comes to me and overwhelms me with his presence; seems too big and irresponsible. I cannot get rid of it as long as it remains; he leaves the room and leaves, not only the house, but, as it were, beyond the horizon; he is a mere ghost or ghost. I don't think about him anymore. I'm coming to my senses, the universe is dawning on me again.

W. H. Channing believes that not solitude but love, the real company of loved ones, were his highest intuitions. To me, it sounds like superficial verbs and nouns; because in the nearest society one's thoughts are shrouded in the farthest isolation.

No man can be faulted except by someone greater than himself. So don't read the comments.

Wordsworth dismisses a whole regiment of poets from his vocation.

The world is waking up to the idea of ​​Union... [But] Union is perfect only when all units are absolutely isolated. Every man, being the universe, if he tries to join with others, is at the same time pushed, compacted, squeezed, halved, dismembered, or on all sides reduced out of proportion, and, the closer the union, the less and the more miserable he becomes. It is. But let him go alone, and acknowledging the Perfect at all times with full obedience, he will go up and down doing true deeds, and, to everyone's astonishment, all the work will be done together, though no one speaks; the government will be inflexible without a governor.

Ideal of union, — in real individualism, real union; then it would be the height of science, the useful arts, the fine arts and the height of the height.

The tongue of fire, the image which the newspapers give, in the late Liverpool fire, of the burning cotton mountains over which the flames rose to twice their height, the volcano also from which the fire rises towards the zenith at a considerable distance towards the stars - these are the most impressive symbols of what a man should be. The spark of fire is infinitely deep, but the mass of fire that extends from the earth to the sky is a strong, united, burning and bright fuel fire.

yes, our music box only plays certain melodies, and never a sweeter melody, but we are convinced that our barrel is not dead, but alive - no, it is only part of the melody, and therefore it changes.

Conservatism is based on the fact that a person cannot jump out of his skin; and good for him who cannot, for his skin is the world; and there the stars of heaven hold him: in human folly the wisdom of God shines.

That old Bible, if you throw it out the window with a fork, it comes back.

Several steps.The greatness of man is to advance in line. Simply receiving the virtues of space, not man; progress belongs to him, he builds on himself. Angelo, Dante, Milton, Swedenborg, Pythagoras, Paracelsus were men of great strength; they built, not only with energy, but also with symmetry, and their work could be called architecture. Napoleon was recently architect...



We soon learned the trick of all male talk. In one, this ruthless Buddhism is everywhere, threatening death and night. We'll build a small fire in our hut, but we don't dare go outside even one step in the murderous cold. Every thought, every undertaking, every feeling has its destination in this terrible Infinite that surrounds us and waits for us to fall into it. If killing all Buddhists was the least good thing, we would have an all-out slaughter of innocents.

In Orpheus, the Demiurge examines the Night, therefore, -

"Tell me how all things must remain as one,

However, each is its own nature reserve."

This is the problem posed to the Fourierist.

The blue sky is a suitable covering for the cottage or the market place and for the encounter of supernatural forms and events from magic and faerie. If my most poetic dream could be realized and fulfilled for my faith in some golden moment in the presence and concurrence of all the gods, I should look up into the same web of deep blue I see as I trudge along the road to the Post Office. . And yet, no dream could have that sky. It's like the touch of God, it distinguishes between shadow and substance. The appearance of the zenith, - our friend Lane would not consider that a"realexperience"?

Last night there was a conversation at our good Mrs. B. on "The Family," which was pretty narrow and exclusive. There was a lot of unnecessary hostility in much of the conversation. Enmity was assumed among the hearers, and we were valiant men full of fighting, ready and able to break the spear for our faith. Lane is so skilful, quick and witty, there is no pause or repetition in his speech, it is a pleasure to listen to, and I forgive everything for such skill: yet he is very provocative and warlike in his ways. He insults merchants and cities, but in every word he says how much he owes them both. There is a wisdom of life in them, a hardness and solidity of experience, which makes them always amusing and makes Alcott's words seem pale and lifeless.

I left the company in a better mood than I have at any party in a long time, because I didn't say a word. Perhaps the right response to the dogmatic tone should be: no more cake and beer? Why so much stress?

'Two Meals a E.A poet may have bread for breakfast and bread and meat for dinner, but for dinner he must eat only stars.

Romeo was the minister of Raymond Béranger, Count of Provence. He managed his master's affairs so well that each of his four daughters became queens. Margaret, the eldest, was married to Louis IX of France; Eleanor, then to Henry III., of England; Sancha, the third, to Ricardo, Henry's brother and king of the Romans; and Beatrice, the youngest, with Charles I., King of Naples and Sicily, and brother of Louis. The Provençal barons, envious of Romeo, encouraged their master's count to ask him for an account of the income he had so carefully guarded and of the prince he so generously paid. So Romeo asked for a small mule, a staff and a bag, with which he entered the service of the count for the first time, a foreign pilgrim from the sanctuary of São Tiago in Galicia, and left as he came, it was never known where he was from, or to where did he go. (See Dante, Canto VI.)

Oh, what would nature say?

She didn't spare a word today;

The mushroom and the reed spoke,

Pines and oaks answered,

Wizard South blew up the valley,

He filled the straits and filled the breadth;

Each maple leaf turned its silver side.

The south wind blows; I leave my book.

I don't have to stay in nature for a long time,

I can turn my life into a song;

He needs past centuries

To tell you the wit of the passing breeze.

And still the landscape mocks me,

Moving forward, then retreating...

"I saw many glorious acres." That's a bold saying. Few men saw many acres. On this day, when I woke up, I felt the morning peace and I knew I rarely saw it.

I hear the whistle of a locomotive in the forest. Wherever this song goes, it has its continuation. It is the voice of nineteenth-century civility saying, "Here I am." It is questionable: it is a prophecy: and this Cassandra is believed: “Wow! Wow! Wow! How is the real estate here in the swamp and in the jungle? Hello to Boston! Wow! Wow! Down that forest on the hillside. I want ten thousand brown platters. I want cedar poles and hundreds of thousands of wooden feet. Above! my lords of oak and pine! You've waited long enough - a good part of a century in wind and stupid sky. Go get axes and saws and come with me to Boston! Wow! Wow! I will plant a dozen houses in this pasture next month and a village immediately; and I will dot that square mile with houses as white as the broken snowbanks that are dotted in March.

History.Something takes over and pushes everyone else aside. However, these clouds of malcontents, fanatics and prophets hover, like Arabs on the horizon or in the mountains awaiting their turn and kingdom. There is no equipment. The world is a prey and the rule of thought. History is a stupid pragmatic distortion. You can easily observe the cloud, which is now as big as your hat, and before you measure its first corner, it covers ten acres. Thoughts work and make what you call the world. Heroes are happy individuals who stand at the pole and are the biggest and most mature. —

The miracle comes for the miracle, not for the arithmetic... These [idealists] have no memory, no hindsight, no wagons of tradition behind them, but they have their eyes in front and their feet in front, for their whole attention is on fact-oriented. of creation, - that Creation now exists and will exist.

The world is too rich for us. Hardly have we set our hearts on a toy, say a house and a country, before poetic reputation is a grand prize, then eloquence, then political power, then asceticism, then art; and so each of the many things separates us from the others. If, by choosing one, we can drink the cup of Lethe for others, we must not be deprived of the pleasure.

(de Z)

December 10.

A good visit to Boston and I saw Sam Ward and Ellery in the lead, and my sister Parian. Ellery has such a smooth voice and tone that it shivers with emotion, like a flower in the wind. He says it has tremendous dispersive power. Ward is wise and handsome: he has said and admitted the best things. He discovered, he said, why people die: it's to break his style.

Life wouldn't be worth leading or keeping if it weren't full of surprises. I wake up in the morning, go to my window and see the sunrise, and from the spectacle I receive a new secret from Nature that compromises my entire past way of life and invites me to a new one.

I am filled with great peace. I try to express it somehow and find that I carved Hesperus in marble. Wondrous is nature's Alembic through which the sensitive mind of peace becomes the figure of youth; but the feeling somehow manages to spill over the stone, as if it were porous to love and truth. However, this number is not final or adequate; it's rather a prison of thoughts, emotions, if I'm content with that. Thought despises it, mocks it as a miserable caricature; the thought had already passed him, it was already something else, it had assumed twenty thousand forms, while poor Hans was beating this one. The oak leaf is perfect, a kind of accomplished absolute, but every work of art is only relatively good; — the artist steps forward and regards all his beautiful things as worthless.

Nature fights for the fact. It will be expressed. So scholars are their victims of expression.

You who see artists, orators, poets very closely and find them victims, declare them unsuccessful...

It is very difficult to keep the center point. It's a very narrow line.

W. said there was a lot of delay and a lot of queries and citations, but very little calm confirmation. Can't a man just communicate what he knows? But nature hates creators of established systems, its methods are excessive, impulsive. Man lives from the pulse, all his organic movements are like that, both chemical and ethereal; they even look wavy or alternate. And so with the mind, it always opposes itself, and so it becomes.

A Yankee is one who, once he gets hold of something, nothing in creation can make him go; who, if anywhere he can get hold of the end of the rope or lever, will not let him go, but have him carry him; if he can find but a stump or a log, he will seize hold of it, and carve out a house and a barn, a farm and cattle, a mill and a village, a railroad and a bank, and many other things alike. useful and fun—a seat in Congress or a foreign assignment, for example. But these are undoubtedly the enemy's inventions.

C.'s eyes are a compliment to the human race; this constant appearance from year to year makes Phidian's sculpture and Poussin's landscape still real and contemporary.

The harvest will be better preserved and passed on, placed in private boxes, in each farmer's granary and in each woman's basket, than if it were kept in national granaries. Likewise, a sum of money will go farther if each man and woman spends it for his own needs, and with a feeling that it is his own, than if it is spent by great managers or commissioners of the national treasury. Take away from me the feeling that I must depend on myself, give me the slightest hint that I have good friends and backup supporters who will gladly help me, and I immediately relax my diligence. I obey the first impulse of generosity that will cost me nothing, and a certain laxity will creep into the management of my affairs. A hundred dollar bill was found here. Let it fall into the hands of an easy man who never gained the property he spends, and see how little it changes his affairs. By the end of the year he was as late as ever and couldn't have done without that hundred. Let it fall into the hands of a poor and prudent woman, and every shilling and penny of it goes to reducing the debt, or to immediate and permanent comfort, repairing windows, buying blankets or furs, buying stoves instead of the old cave hearths, all chimneys.

All Channings are men of the world; they have some flint in their composition, which gives a good advantage and protects them like armor. Ellery has the manners and address of a merchant.

Elizabeth Hoar asserts that religion gives a refinement which well-brought-up people who are not religious lack, and therefore considers it essential to the flower of tenderness.

Like the heat of fire, to be shared

It cannot be beautiful from eternity.


I have no thoughts today; What then? What is the difference? Only today there is no chance for antagonism to develop, electricity accumulates more; week, then you will meet someone or something that will bring a shower of sparks.

Traveling is a very humbling experience for me. I never go to any church like a cart to learn my shortcomings.

For all the magnificence of circumstances, the extension of time seems to be an indispensable element. Who can attribute something magnificent to creatures as ephemeral as us humans? The proper time to spend in mere contemplation is too large a fraction of sixty-ten years to indulge in so magnificent conduct. The brevity of human life lends melancholy to the architectural profession.

In this country there is relative innocence and adequate health. We don't often see bald boys and gray haired girls; children suffering from gout and apoplexy; the street is not full of myopic and deaf people; nor do we see those horrible mutilations and horrible forms of diseases like leprosy and the unspeakable species of the plague that show the streets of Europe, the stumps of men.

Charles Lane said that it seemed to him that our men did not have that constancy which could be counted on. So Green could be a merchant, a priest, or a soldier as well as a progressive reformer. And so Davis and Robbins and others. This results from greater freedom from circumstances. British and Europeans are guided as if by an iron belt of the state.

The best and best youth despise life;...

Naming, yes, it is the editorial staff of the world's newspaper, those famous editors of Moses, Homer, Confucius, and so on down to Goethe and Kant: they cite what men have already done, and grateful men say, "Doctor, it's no there is great comfort in knowing what disease I am dying of."


Vishnu Sarna; Pythagoras; Esquil; Sofoklo; Euripides; Aristophanes;SymposiumPlato, Xenophon and Phocion; Theophrastus; Plotinus; porphyry; Jablich; St. AugustineConfessions;synesio,Already Transparency;Closed; Apuleius; Saadi; danteParadise;Chaucer; Erasmus; Michelangelo,Sonnets;Sir Thomas More; Rabelais; Cornelius Agrippa,O Vanity of of art eu sciences;Cervantes; Robert Burton; Torbar; Behmen; Massinger; Ford; Jorge Fox; Maravilha; Moliere; Dryden; Otway; Fast; Daddy; Doctor Johnson; Pestalozzi; Goethe; Sheridan; Talleyrand; judges; rhymer; Robert Owen; Fourier; Manzoni!promised just married;Daniel Webster; Doutor Channing; Edward Everett; Shelley; Bryant; Carlyle; James P. Greaves; Lyell; João Clara,Songs descriptive of Rural Life eu Scenography;Pusey; Bancroff; George B. Emerson; Hawthorne; John Sterling,Dodalus;DisraeliVivian Shiva;Bulwer,Zanoni;Jorge Borrow,O Zincali;Tennyson, second volume of the bookSongs;gild,Paracelsus;Bailey,Festival; Westland Marston, O patrick s Daughter; Jorge H. Colton, Tecumseh;

William Henry Channing; Willian Ellery Channing,Songs;Thoreau,Songs;Alcott; Orestes A. Brownson; Albert Brisbane; Theodore Parker; Margaret Fuller; Charles K. Newcomb;Balzac, First of cooked;[Escritores ingleses, amigos do Sr. Alcott] Charles Lane; Henry G. Wright; John A. Heraud; Goodwyn Barmby; Frances Barham;"Herea song;"O SimplePublished by Christopher Greene and William M. Chace of Providence.








em 1843

(From Z, R and U magazines)

To each according to faith.

And any soul that perceives some truth will be safe from harm until another age. — Plato,Poedro

[In January, Mr. Emerson launched into a long lecture. He went to Philadelphia, probably visiting his friend and dear schoolmate, the Reverend William H. Furness; thence by train to Baltimore, where he delivered two lectures, visiting Washington between them, after an interval of sixteen years. He next gave his course on "New England" in New York, in February, before the Berean Society: I, the genius of the Anglo-Saxon race; II, Commerce; III, Manners and Customs of New England; IV, Recent Literature and Spiritual Influences; V, Results.

Meanwhile, Henry Thoreau, chivalrous, universally obliging, witty, and kind, occupied a wall at home for his absent friend, and also relieved him of much editorial work forTo choose.This will appear inknown cards of henrique Daviedited by Mr. F. B. Sanborn, for that period.]

(de Z)

BALTIMORE, BARNUM'S HOTEL,January 7,em 1843.

Here today from Philadelphia. The railroad, which was once just a toy wagon, is now a bulky old farm wagon. However, it is not prosaic, as they say, but highly poetic, this powerful shuttle that runs over forests, swamps, rivers and backwaters of the sea, connecting city to city. Americans treat a small invention as if it were the cradle they were born in.


Philosophy finally shakes hands with the simplest Methodist, and learns from him one fact, namely, that the grace of God—all grace,

— there is not an inch of room left for the insolence of the human will. Whatever a man naturally does is good, and nothing else: and sitting in railway carriages, happy is he who is moved to speak, and knows nothing of it; and happy is he who is encouraged to stand still and does not know he is standing still; but I hate him with perfect self-hatred. Let a man hate the whirlpools, let him hate the riverbanks, but let him stay in the middle of the stream. The hero did nothing separate and strange, but he traveled the road and went to the same inn as all the people, and there he was very cordial and natural, not a refined and protected person.

"Each bullet will hit its target if first dipped in the shooter's blood."

It is very bad for men to speak well.

The American was served like a nobleman in those city hotels; and their individuality respected as much as possible; and he can go imperially by all railroads or waterways. I am very pleased to find such a practical illustration of high theories at the heart of democracy.

Mrs. Siddons told her niece, Fanny Kemble, "You are a remarkable girl, but you are not yet Mrs. Siddons, though many say you are."

EM WASHINGTON,January11, 12, 13, 14.

The “Southern Winter Arrangement” advertises “the great central mail route from Baltimore to Charleston, sall tri changes of Personand luggage."

January 16.

The reading of so many novels must not leave young people in this country indifferent, and undoubtedly idealizes them. They must study noble behavior, and this dignity of hotel armchairs is not wholly lacking in inner dignity.

I understand poverty much better than wealth; and it is strange that one of my friends who is rich always happens to me to be so, and by character is made to be poor.

I don't realize that many people can help others directly.

Usually every man occupies every inch of his land. The poor or the middle class can help better than the rich.

Giles Waldo told me of one of his friends who gambled, not for gain, but bread, and with members of the Indiana legislature; and the people whose money he made liked him so much that one day they appointed him Secretary of the Chamber of Deputies, to their great surprise, and if he had stayed in that country they would have appointed him Secretary of State.

In Philadelphia, they play chess in every house. At the Athenæum, at any time of the day, the game is played behind a screen, and whenever I was in the room, I noticed several spectators watching the players play.

NEW YORK,February7.

I am very satisfied with dealers. In railroad cars and hotels it is common to find only the successful class, and therefore we have favorable specimens: but they reveal more manly power of all kinds than the scholars; behave much better, speak better, and have cheap and proper manners.

Traveling by train like a dream. The cities I pass through between Philadelphia and New York do not leave a special impression. They are like pictures on the wall. What's more, you can read a French novel in the car all the time.

February 7.

Nature.Nature asked: Army and baggage are two things; Is the whole world a troop or just baggage, or is there a troop that one day won't be baggage? It's easy, she thinks, to show you the Universal soul: we all suck on that orange; but could you please mention what an individual is? She apologized for playing pranks on you in your youth and putting a little sugar in your milk to make you suck at the nipples, and a little glory after important lessons, but she said she'd never tell another lie if you sorted out the problem. problem all Buddhism was better than hands and feet, and would have maintained this belief in the presence of two people. Aboutdistanteuthisshe wondered what that meant. She admires people who read and people who look at pictures, but if they read until they write, or look at pictures until they draw, she curses them from head to toe. She has the weirdest taste and behavior. She loves the onion, which is all in her hair; and among the birds he admires the god; but when I hinted that the blue weed was growing around my house, he calledself care,she said, - and the coxcomb called him; but she teaches the spider's web to weather the tempest, and when the child's cry drove the lion away, she nearly devoured the darling with kisses. you have a talent for asking questions, she will play with you all your life; but if you can answer the questions she will come up with one which if you answer she will die first. She hates authors but loves Montaigne.

Webster.Webster is well liked by the Yankees because he is a very dominant person of understanding, with every talent for proper expression. An American, foreigners say, always resonates, and he is the most American of Americans. They have no abandonment, but they are very fond of logic, as all their churches have long testified. Its external advantages are very rare and admirable; his noble, regal figure, his wide, high brows, his coal-black hair, his large gray eyes, his perfect posture, and the rich, well-modulated thunder of his voice (which I used to hear, sometimes, oblivious to his felt only by the luxury of such noble bursts of sound) set him apart from everyone else. You would give him a million. He made the same impression in England by his personal advantages as he did at home, and was called the Great West. In speech he has a good sense, - is always relevant to time and place, and has an eye for the simple facts of nature, - for where he is, for the time of day, for the sun in the sky, to his neighborhood, to the sea, or to the mountains,—but he notices these things very sparingly, and holds fast to the business part of his speech with great earnestness and fidelity. “I don't get excited,” he once said, “I don't exaggerate; I avoid all inflammatory allusions.” He relies on his simple power of assertion - in which he surpasses all men - for the attention of his congregation. His statement is entirely lucid and of equal force. He has a lot of fairness and deserves all his success in debate, as he always takes a point from the opponent winning, like in Hayne's debate. There is no childish, gimmicky, academic gimmick in any of his speeches—all are superb businessmen. Each is a top-notch Yankee.

He had an apprenticeship true to his station, for he was born in New Hampshire, the son of a farmer, and spent his youth in those hardships and privations which add such advantage to every simple pleasure and opportunity of liberalization. The almanac does not go unnoticed, the peasants read it and take it seriously. And when his father announced that he was going to send him to university, he couldn't speak. Struggles, - Brothers and sisters in poor men's homes in New England are dear to each other, and raising a family involves much sacrifice, for each other.

Flaws that overshadow his character do not detract from his popularity. He is very expensive and is always in debt; but this commends him, because he is known to be generous, and his countrymen apologize to Themistocles for him, that keeping the treasure intact is the virtue of the chest, not the man. So there is a great proportion of good nature and some kind in it. It is sometimes objected to him that he is a man of pleasure, and that all his chosen friends are Epicureans and easy libertines. But it is to the liking of Talleyrand, who said of his foolish wife that he found her absurdity very refreshing: so that Webster, after pumping his brains out to the courts and the Senate, was no doubt only too happy to be among the gossips and gossip. where you can stretch out and drink your mulled wine. They also cite it as theirtri rulesof life: (1) Never pay a debt that can be avoided by any means; (2) Never do anything today that can be postponed until tomorrow; (3) He never does anything he can ask anyone else to do for him.

All is forgiven for a man of such incredible intellect and such incredible business powers that he has wielded for so long. There is no malice in the man, but a broad disposition and much pleasure in the hour; so that Stetson said of him: "It is true that he sometimes commits crimes, but without any guilt."

A great man is always entitled to the most liberal interpretation, and some anecdotes by which his adversaries most deeply pierced his reputation admit of explanation. I cannot help thinking, however, that his speech at Richmond was given a meaning by his Southern supporters which he did not intend, and I have never forgiven him for not saying, Not so quickly, my good friends, I do not mean what you to mean. to say.

He abused the opportunity of becoming the darling of the American world for all future times, refraining from putting the anti-slavery interest to its head, defending New England and man against the mistreatment and barbarism of the South.

I must say of him that he was nothing magnificent, but the purest intellect ever applied to business. He is Intellect applied to business. He is the greatest lawyer; but a statesman too indifferent to charge points from him. He brings points from the bench, but not with the club. He has no followers, no group of friends, except those whose intellect he moves. No sweaty crowd will carry you on their shoulders. And yet all of New England, the remotest farm or logging camp in the wilds of Maine, delight in telling and hearing anecdotes of his forensic eloquence. What he said in Salem, at the Knapp trial; and as he watched a witness outside the courthouse in Boston - he once fixed his large eyes on him and scrutinized him far and wide; then, as the cause proceeded, and this prisoner's perjury was not yet necessary, he looked about him as if to see whether he was safe and ready for the inquisition which he was about to impose upon him. The witness felt his hat and went to the door; He looked at him for the third time, and the witness could no longer sit down, but he seized the opportunity, fled the courtroom and they could not find him anywhere, such was the horror in those eyes.

People think we have no support in our permissive interpretation of the Constitution and the despotism of public opinion, and one Frenchman thinks he has found it in our marriage and another in our Calvinism. But the fact of the two poles is universal; the fact that there are two forces, centripetal and centrifugal, is universal, and each develops the other, each by its own activity. Wild liberty develops an iron conscience; the lack of freedom strengthens a decent and proper law, which to some extent overrides the domestic conscience.

Queenie makes fun of reformers who make bread without yeast and are mortal enemies of fermentation. Queenie says: God made leaven as well as wheat, and loves leaven as much as vegetation; this fermentation develops the saccharine element in the grain and makes it tastier and more digestible. But that they want "pure wheat" and that it will die but not ferment. Stop, dear nature, these incessant advances; let me hurt these wheels that keep on rolling.

Spirit of the earth, alive, a black river like that brook of dark skin that runs through the human body is your nature, demonic, hot, fecund, sad, nocturnal.

February 8.

As we walk down the street, every passenger's eyes are constantly asking, asking, everyone they meet, or claiming, claiming everyone. Rarely will we find a face that has a balanced expression, neither asking permission nor grossly selfish, but equally receptive and affirming. W. A. ​​Tappan says that when a man is looked at, he immediately takes on a new expression, and the strangers he meets on the street every day are angry because they are looking at them.

A serious conversation with a friend is the diary from which all good writing comes.

[Here follows passages from "Experience" about God's pleasure in isolating us and hiding the past and the future; to the eye that creates the horizon and the mind's eye that deifies people; and on skepticism as a limitation of the affirmative. See second series, p. 67, 68; 76, 77; 75]

Men can affect modesty all they like, every speaker wants the smartest audience, wants to be heard by a genius.

It's very funny to enter a family where both father and mother dedicate themselves to their children. For a moment you boast that you have won your friend's attention, for your face lights up; then you find he has the baby's eye over his shoulder and is singing.

Morality must originate from internal sources, but must have its aims in the diversity of social life; how we are tamed bymoral."I feel at home," said Mrs. B., "more than among my relatives, because you arehonest, virtuouspeople." So, according to my experience with a traveler who prays in a hotel. So, when I go abroad, if I enter a church, the first feeling of fear of God makes me truly at home. be the expectations of others, but the joy of serving, the outpouring of goodwill, the pleasure of serving, not seeing others serve, not the sense of duty, but the desire to be happy.

A man leaving Constantinople met the arrival of the Plague, who is said to have been sent thither by twenty thousand souls. Forty thousand people were taken away, and when the traveler returned, he found the Plague leaving the city. "Why did you kill forty thousand?" he asked. "I only killed twenty", answered Pestilence; "Fear killed others."

Mr. Adams chose wisely and in accordance with his constitution when, after leaving the presidency, he went to Congress. He is not a literary old gentleman, but a bruised and loving one.crowd.When it comes to his age and honor and nearness to the tomb, he knows better, he is like one of those old cardinals, who, as soon as he is elected Pope, throws away his crutches and his dishonesty, and stands as straight as a boy. he is an old manwheelwho cannot live on pomi but must have sulfuric acid in their tea.

There is no line that does not return; I suppose mathematicians will tell us that so-called straight lines are lines with long curves, but that there is no such thing as a straight line in nature. If, as you say, we are destroying number by asserting strict infinity, then why do I assume that even this number can be swallowed and that one day we will eat it like cream?

National characteristics don't stand a chance alongside intellectual ones. Doctors say that every constitution generates a new case of fever. It's the same with people. Our national traits may appear while we are sleepy and with a headache, but cheer me up, examine me with a thought, and all nations will be people together. The first Englishman I met while traveling was an honest and affectionate fellow, and the first Frenchman was a mystic.

Major Davezac u Carlton House, New

York, he told me about Father Antoine in New Orleans, the only man who remained with the Spanish government when the Americans took the city. He never had dinner at home, but when midday came, he would go to the nearest house he passed and say: "My son, I came to have dinner with you". So they had a festival. After dinner he smoked a cigar, slept for half an hour, blessed the house and left.

When he fell ill, hourly bulletins were published about his health: when he died, all shops were closed, all courts and legislatures adjourned. Two shillings were found in his desk, and his will implored all his sons of all sects - for he would not by this instrument separate those whom in his heart he had never separated - to kneel for five minutes and pray that his period of purgatory was to be shortened. Both Protestants and Catholics knelt and prayed. He preached a crusade against the English during the siege. And General Jackson came and thanked him, and told him that his prayers and urgent messages were as good to him as a thousand men. He had the Te Deum sung in church.

The abbess of the Ursuline monastery and its bell St. Victory. A thousand pound bell vote, not if it's victory, butwhyto win. The book itself opened the prayer of the day, it was the prayer of St. Victoria. General Jackson said: “That was very remarkable, Major Davezac, and I tell you, sir, that something very remarkable accompanied this campaign. From the battle on the night of the 23rd, to the retreat of the British, I had the feeling that these things had already crossed my mind and had been erased; and when I watched it, I was sure of success, for I knew that God would not give me predictions of disaster, but signs of victory. He said: This ditch can never be crossed. It cannot be done.”

We are all chemists who only know our gold. Men throw pearls at the big companies I frequent, and nobody but me seems to know they're pearls.

I feel and own your power, but I regret that your power is stifling mine. I regret this, not for myself, as I am quite content to remain hidden for a year, but for you, as it prevents me from returning justly, which your merit requires; and I would like to justify your good deed and your will towards me.

Democracy is accused in our country of being evil, and I think it looks like aimlessness, selfish resistance, withdrawal and a wild desire for physical freedom - but to what end? Just for freedom; no noble purpose. Vethake thought that society was rapidly sliding into an excess of democracy - a universal abolition, I think, he called it, of what he considered the absolute extinction of the feminine principle. Then the woman will say, I cannot bear this death, and she will rise up in anger and end that time. The opinion of Mr. V was that Mohammed tried power, and Jesus, or, I believe John, persuasion; that Mohammed felt that persuasion, that persuasion of John failed miserably, was a rather bad change or system of change, that convenience or system of persuasion and example and so on, just against which we now write essays and lectures; and he said: I will try this Eastern weapon, the sword, which will never, never go to the West; and he said to Ayesha, “I have figured out how to do this. This element of Woman will not carry a sword; well, I'll get rid of the woman: she may exist; but from now on I will veil him:" so he veiled the Woman. Then the sword could work and eat. He believed that man and woman are a true social unit, born of union, and that old and young can only exist in status of guardianship or protection; that the only holders of property were the married, who should not take the name of husband or wife, but a new name common to both, and have only one vote. There were three ways to kill. In the third, I smelled a cigarette: society, he said, must not be killed, but it must be said, it cannot, and it will stop. I remembered what I had heard or dreamed, that the most terrible of all hierarchs would be the mystic. with SwedenborgyouSwedenborg in the minority, Swedenborg contemplative, is excellent company; but the executive Swedenborg would be the Devil in a crown and scepter. fagots!

In the vast leisures of the spirit, I think we can cheat time by the play of understanding and the use of the hands, and still be candidates for divine help and the use of divine methods as truly as if we were to fold our hands and trust only in transcendental methods. .

Cheap literature creates new markets. We were thinking only of the box audience, or mainly the box and pit; but now it seems there are audiences on the run too, and galleries one, two, three; and steps back, and street listeners in addition. Greeley told me thatGrahamova Magazineit has seventy thousand subscribers, and I could write a talk if I wanted to for seventy thousand readers.

Like Vethake, Brisbane thought that democracy did not want to build but only tear down; "to overthrow," as he put it, "God and the Bank, and everything else they could see."


Back home after my long journey to count my treasures, old and new, and perhaps to share them.

The world has an incurable trick to take care of itself from the start, otherwise all of America's tops would have advice to offer. We sit and think how richly decorated will be the broad Champagne and other groves at the foot of those blue mountains, and meanwhile here are ready and willing thousands strong and teachable who have no land to till. If the government is to continue in our present clumsy way, - might it not assume the responsibility of providing each citizen, when he comes of age, with a few acres, in order to enable him to earn his bread fairly? Perhaps one day this will be done by the state taking over the distribution of the property of the dead. In the United States almost all states own so much public land that it would be feasible to give what they have and devise a system whereby the state should continue to own such a fund.

Gypsies and militia captains, paddies and Chinese, all manner of shrewd, pragmatic men and a few fine women - a strange world made of such oddities; the only beings belonging to the horizon are fine women.

Today's humiliation is cheap, which tomorrow gives wit, eloquence, poetry.

Everything works for me. Me and my day. Some people use my language but it's strange to me, and other people who use a language that's strange to me are very close to me. Events are the garment of the Spirit. Why should we try to steal and peel them? And we know God as we know ourselves by our clothes. "You run fast, but your pursuers run after you just as fast." That's what Mrs. Rebecca Black from New York.

At five points I heard a woman cursing very freely while talking to her mates; but when I looked into her face, I saw that she was no worse than other women; that she used her class dialect, like everyone else, and that they were neither better nor worse for it; but behind that bad outfit was the same peace, the same integrity as Broadway. Even her friends didn't misunderstand her. There is virtue in vice as well as in virtue.

And the Spirit led him to a lonely place. This is what the Spirit does for every man.

(by R)

It is easier for me to read Goethe than Mundt, and it must always be easier for a sensible man to understand than a weak one in a foreign language, for things translate to one and not to the other. However, the progress we make in a new language, a means by which we explore more and more rare thoughts, is very pleasant, until finally we become unaware of their presence in our transparency.

Ellery's verses should be called poetry for poets, they touch the fine pulse of thought, and will be the cause of more poetry and verse more finished and better wrought than they are; but i can't blameNorte AmericanseuKnickerbockersif they didn't doubt his genius. When the balloon rudder is invented, railways will be suppressed. And when Ellery's muse finds a purpose, be it passion or firm faith, anything to which all those wild and sometimes brilliant beads can be strung, we have a poet. now hecostumesLike thisamateursIn the song. He constantly breaks faith with reason. The sonnet has merits, fine lines, hints of deep reflection; it's worth a sound, it's worth a study, if only I could trust that it had some lasting meaning before it, that it kept faith in itself; but I fear he changed his purpose with every verse; he was driven up and down this or that with the demands of rhyming, and he just wanted to write something and rhyme it, carelessly how or what, and he stopped when he got to the end of the paper. It breaks faith with the reader; he wants integrity. Still, it will be a better book for the Poets than a whole volume of Bryant and Campbell. Miss Peabody has beautiful colors to sell, but her store is not attractive to home builders and dealers: Mr. Allston and Mr. Cheney will likely find their way to it.

A man of genius is as privileged as he is a genius. Dullness from him is as unbearable as any other dullness. Only success will justify the departure and the license. But Ellery has eccentrics who have no more claim to mercy than to the stupidity and folly of others, which he despises. He continually uses a license that would only be in oral improvisation, but is not forgivable in written verse. Imagination on your piano.

E. H. said it was a wood elf whom one of the maids in the story fell in love with and then got upset with, wanting him baptized. Margaret said, reminding him of the great Genie with the poor boy trotting along beside him.

"Because in you resides a matchless light

That shines all dreamy night;

Its bark will be a precious stone

In whose red veins lies a deep magic,

Its ecstasies may be known to no one,

Except for those vast ethereal tides

circulates in our being

But don't whisper the slightest sound.”

"Go away, go away, you stellar breath!

On your knees, please go;

Oh, do not connect your temples with death,

Nor let your shadow fall on the snow."

Jock could not eat rice because it came from the west, nor molasses because it came from the north, nor wear leather shoes because of the way the leather was obtained, nor wear a wool coat. But Dick gave him a golden eagle that he might buy wheat and rye, maple sugar, and an oak chest, and said, This piece of gold, wretched Jock! it is molasses, and rice, and horsehide, and sheephide.

[Here follow the sentences ofO Chinese Classic To work,commonly calledO four books,translated by Rev. David Colier. These and other Eastern religious sayings were printed in local "Ethnic Writings".]

CriticismThus, the Gothic cathedral and Shakespearean perfection are as wild and inexplicable as the geranium, the hare or the platypus. It's over and we have to get to work and do something else, that thing to be done that is now being felt and done and impatiently here in us and around us.

Draw, said M. R. of Mr. Cheney, was just a good eye for distances; and the poet's descriptive talent seems to depend on a certain lake passivity to receive the image of the whole landscape in its original proportions, intact, and then with sweet attention, the caution of love, to transfer it to the table of language.

Health.Health is the most objective matter. Vishnu Sarna said: "To the one who wears a shoe it is as if the whole earth were covered with leather." So I spread my health around the world and make it strong, happy and useful. To a sick man, the world is a medicine chest.

Poet.It is true that when a man writes poetry he seems to assume the high feminine part of his nature. Therefore, we dress the poet in dresses and wreaths, characteristic of a woman. The muse is female. But the action is male. And the king is dressed in almost female clothes.

The philosophers in Fruitlands have before their eyes so great an image of virtue that they never see the poetry of man and nature; the poetry that is in the life of man, the poorest pastoral clown life; the light that shines on a man's hat, on a child's spoon, the gleam in every wave and every speck of dust, they do not see.

Speeches."Aristo said neither bathing nor lectures mean anything unless people are washed and cleaned."

Pride is a great convenience,... much nicer and cheaper than vanity, but the proud are intolerably selfish and the vain are kind and generous.

Translations.Thanks to the translators...

March 23.

Two brave singers go up and down plucking the feathers of all the beautiful birds, showing that not all are in good health. This makes many unhappy on all sides; it causes a lot of crow from the two roosters who so cunningly discover and destroy all the young beauties in the aviary. But, unfortunately, the two brave roosters that strip are no better than those that strip, except that they have sharper beaks and claws. In plain prose, it made me so sad to hear the most intellectual young man I knew, Charles Newcomb, so despised, and our good and most worthy scholar, Theodore Parker, threatened as a morsel to swallow when the next day came, and all this for my sake. brave friends, who are only brave, don't help, don't love, aren't creative, — what I said, Curse preaches, — the better, the worse. The preacher is a bully: I who preached so much, - with God's help I will preach no more.

We want to strengthen the recognition of what is good in us. "A girl is the smallest part of herself"; God is in the girl. That's why wise men can love fools so much; it is, under all restraints and weaknesses, the life and revelation of Reason and Conscience.

Daisy.A clean and purifying mind, also self-purifying, full of faith in people and inspiring them. Unable to find any companion large enough to receive the rich effusions of its thoughts, so its richness is still unknown and seems unknowable. It is a great joy to discover that we have underestimated our friend, that he or she is far more excellent than we thought. All natures appear poor next to the one so rich, which pours a stream of amber over all objects, pure and impure, that come its way, and makes beautiful and lovely what was in itself vile. She taught us a lot about how lifeless and external we were, what poor Lapps who bury themselves in the snow of prudence and pedantry. Besides her friendship, other friendships seem to be commerce, and by the firmness with which she treads her upward path, all mortals are convinced that there is another path than the one that knows her feet. Her beautiful generosity of feeling pours out her contempt for books and writing just as the question arises how to preserve this fiery image in all its splendor and variety for other eyes. She surpasses other intellectual people because her feelings are more mixed up with her life; thus her expression has greater constancy and greater clarity. I have never known any example of so constant progress from stage to stage of thought and character. The inspirer of courage, the secret friend of all nobility, the patient barmaid for the attainment of character, the pardoner of offenses graciously laying aside folly and the exaltation of baseness - in her presence all were familiar with their shackled possessions and longed for for deliverance, ugliness, and longed for its beauty; pettiness and choked on greatness.

You can see her growth. All the people we know have reached his height, or else his growth is so close to our speed that it is imperceptible, but this child instills more and more faith in him. Sometimes she towered before me in heroic and divine regions, and I could not think of superior women, but I thought of Ceres, Minerva, Proserpina, and the glorious ideal forms of the pre-world. She said that no man had ever extended such an invitation to her as to tempt her to fully express herself; that she felt the power of enriching her thought with such richness and variety of ornaments that, doubtless, she would have bored those with whom she conversed. And there is no form that does not seem to be expected from her calling - dramatic, lyrical, epic, passionate, picturesque, witty.

She has great sincerity, strength and fluency as a writer, but her speaking power overshadows her writing. What method, what excellent judgment, as well as energy, in her choice of words; what character and wisdom they impart! You cannot predict her opinion. She is so quick to empathize with all forms of life, that she never speaks in a narrow or hostile manner, nor does she betray, like everyone else, under the guise of new words, old tattered cast-iron opinions or long-held notions. What a wealth of experience, what novelty in dress, and fast as Olympus according to her principle. And silvery eloquence, which was taught by most of Polymnia. Meanwhile, all this pathos of feeling and wealth of literature and invention, and this march of character which threatens soon to reach the shore and plunge into the sea of ​​Buddhism and mystical trance, consists of boundless fun and banter, with light satire, and America's funniest conversation.

Your experience contains, I know, golden moments which, if they could be properly told, would rank equally alongside all the stories of generosity that the world contains; and while Dante'sNovi Vitais almost unique in Sentiment literature, the imperfect record she gave me of two of her days I called "Nuovissima Vita".

The worker king is one of the best symbols. Alfredo and Ulisses are like that. And here and there we see them in society; - of course, more often from the throne than on it. This is the right country for them.

The fire chamber through which the martyr passes is larger than any royal apartment; and this martyr's palace can be immediately built on any vacant lot.

People are good things, but they cost so much! forofI have to paymi.

A beautiful constellation of people; rare strength of character and true wealth; they are to gather, shine, and light the nation and nations. Alcott said sensible words aboutdial,that all newspapers and magazines should wait for it, abolitionists should be guided by it, and not be able to reject it as they do. Must lead. Here the scepter is offered to us, and we refuse it out of poverty of spirit.

When I see what good men we have, I think it's a kind of King René period: no works, but rare and glaring prophecies of competing player bands, and age will not sneak in, but will confirm all the beauty and truth in your heart.

"To choosethere is no pity.”

The same persons should not form the Standing Committee for Reform. A man may say, I am chief among sinners, but once. He is already cursed, if he once came to an insight into that state, he remains there to repeat it. But the Reform Committee must be made up of new people every day; those who have just come to power compare the state of society with their own spirit that expands every day. Fatal to discuss reform weekly! The poorest poet or young beginner in the plastic arts hesitates to speak of the project he wants to carry out, lest he die under his cold fingers. And this art of living has the same insolence and will not be exposed.

It is a great joy to escape people and live under the rule of tables.

Milton is the most literary man in literature.

We are greatly offended when poets, who by their excellence are the opinion and feeling of the world, are deficient in the truth of intellect and feeling. Then the feeling is callous and the thought reckless.

The conversation turned to the status and duties of women. As always, it was taken into account historically and had a certain falsity. For me today, Woman is not a degraded person with forgotten duties, but an obedient daughter of God with her face turned to heaven, who strives to hear the divine word and transmit it to me.

I reread Margaret's lines with the new commentary of the lovely anecdotes she told fresh in my mind. Of course, the poems turned golden, the branch blossomed in my hands: but the poem does not need to explain its relationship to life; it must be a new life, not yet half-absorbed in the soil, like the newly bred lions in Eden.

Do you know how diamonds and other gemstones were invented? Rome, which wanted to follow Ormuzd's quests through the Kingdoms of Ariman undetected, received from Ormuzd in a lupine capsule seven days in the form of seven diamonds. Each of them he used as a lamp, which, when spent, gave him a sharp and wise light for his journey of twenty-four degrees of travel. At other times, Ormuzd gave him spring days in the form of emeralds, summer days in the form of rubies, and autumn days in the form of topazes. All these stones are children of the day.

The world must be new as we know it, for you see how lately it has remembered so many of the simplest practical objects; as, for example, wooden pins for holding clothes in line, instead of metal pins, introduced by the peace of 1783. My mother remembers when her sister, Mrs. Inman, returned from England at that time, and brought these articles with his furniture, then new to this country; then an Indian rubber shoe; railway; vaporizer; and an airtight stove; friction play; and cut nails.

The difference between talent and genius is that talent says things it has only heard once, and genius says things it has never heard.

Genius is power; Talent is applicability. The human body, the animal, is applicability; Life, Soul is Genius.

"Mom", they said they started again!"

Elizabeth Hoar says, "I love Henry, but I don't like him." Young people, like Henry Thoreau, owe us a new world and they haven't gotten out of debt. Most of these people die young and thus avoid fulfillment. One of our girls said that Henry never went through the kitchen without paint.

Do not underestimate your speech. Power is related to power...

Montaigne.At Roxbury, in 1825, I read Cotton's translation of Montaigne. It seemed to me that I myself had written the book in a past life, as I spoke so honestly of my thoughts and experiences. No book before or since has been as important to me as this one. How delighted I was after reading Cotton's dedication to Halifax and Halifax's response, which seemed wordless, of course, but true suffrage. Then I went to Paris in 1833, to Pere le Chaise, and found the tomb of Auguste Collins, which, the stone said, was shaped according to the virtue of Montaigne's essays. After that, John Sterling wrote a loving review of Montaigne inWestminsterwith a diary of his own pilgrimage to Montaigne's estate and castle - and shortly afterwards Carlyle writes to me that this same Montaigne lover is my lover. I then introduced his genius to two of my friends, James and Tappan, both of whom were as warm to him as a brother.

Reference.We praise the pine because it looks like a palm tree, the valuka because it looks like equatorial birds, and our whole view of nature is fitted to a tropical pattern. The man below the line is equally fond of the alpine and arctic type and dreams of cold water and the apples, pears and peaches of a temperate climate where nature serves man. An extremely weak reference. Sorrow and joy, charity and faith are derived and related. The ultimate need is good and strong; “I love him, I hate him; I like it, I don't like it. Once upon a time there was a race that survived, but these seemingly ghostly fellows who ask while cursing and cursing - or just cursing and cursing! I wish there were no more good nature in the world; tomahawks are better. I think the reason we value mystics so much is that oak trees indicate solid ground, so the bountiful harvest of mystics proves to be the redemption of our universal appeal to one another.

Of books.He is a poor writer who does not teach the courage of healing.

The community of Brook Farm is a simple prose expression and reality of impulse theory. It contains several philosophers, men and women, courageous and consistent, who carry out a theory, quite abominable, since their centripetalism is not balanced by any centrifugation; this desire to obey impulse is not guarded by any old, old intellect - or one who knows goals and limits. Young people who were faithful to that, to their testimony, lived a lot in a short time, but left with destroyed organizations. It's intellectual sansculotism. Fortunately, Charles Newcomb and George Bradford were there, and their presence could not fail to feel hygienic and retentive. I have heard that Charles Newcomb was much respected, and his conduct, even in trifles, was watched and imitated—a quiet, withdrawn, demonic young man. Nathaniel Hawthorne said that Burton felt Newcomb's presence throughout.

The other day I was reading Ward's Chinese book on bards; many phrases claiming that bards like wine. Tea and coffee are my wines, and I have finer and lighter wines than these. But an intellectual will naturally use some nectar. For he will soon learn the secret that, in addition to the energy of his conscious intellect, his intellect is capable of new energy, yielding to the nature of things. normal powers. Someone finds it in music, another in war, another in large paintings or sculptures; one traveling; one in conversation; in politics, in mobs, in fires, in theaters, in love, in science; when poisoning animals. I take a lot of stimulants and often make art out of my drunkenness. I read Proclus for my opium; it excites my imagination to let float before me the pleasing and majestic figures of gods, demons, and demon-men. I hear rumors circulating among the oldest gods, of traveling Azonian gods, of glowing-eyed demons, of the enviable, exuberant will of the gods; the water gods, the plain of truth, the meadow, the food of the gods, the paternal harbor, and all the rest of Platonic rhetoric quoted as a common word. From all these and so many rare and courageous words, I am filled with joy and spring, my heart dances, my vision quickens, I see the brilliant relationships between all beings, and they inspire me to write and almost sing. I think he would look handsome if he read Proclus long and hard.

But as for this intoxication I spoke of, it is an ancient knowledge that the intellect is a god by its relation to what is prior to the intellect. This is inspiration.

They [the Neoplatonists] often speak of the gods with such picturesque clarity that one might think they were actually present, like Swedenborg, at the Olympic feasts; for example, "This is what gives off the sensible light, which, when it appeared, astonished the intellectual gods and made them marvel at their father, as Orpheus says."

How many times have I said, and I must say it again this morning, that the conscience of the age to come will take care of reason. We accuse ourselves of being useless, but not of thoughtlessness.

You should have listened, if you want to say, then you should have listened to the prophecies, which would elevate every day of your life.

It is not in God's power to communicate His will to the Calvinist. For with every inward revelation he lifts up his stupid book and quotes chapter and verse against the Bookmaker and the Manmaker, against what he does not quote but is and is to come. There is a light older than the intellect, by which the intellect lives and works, ever new, and which debases all past and its own individual brilliance. This light Calvinism denies, in its idolization of a certain bright past.

Swedenborg, Behmen, Spinoza, will appear original to ignorant and thoughtless people. the splendor of truth itself. And though such a person goes; justify the good intention of one of those men of God who tried to tell the truth what they saw, but he will see that those who quote his words instead of listening to the truth itself, falsify the truth: for his book is not the truth, but the truth Swedenborgized or Behmenized or Spinozized.

Much wretched talk about a woman, which at least had the effect of revealing the true gender of some people who often go undercover as the other sex. Then Mrs. B. is a man. The best people marry only both sexes. The hermaphrodite is therefore a symbol of the complete soul. It was agreed that a couple should appear in each act: these two elements should be mixed in each act.

It sounded hoarse to me, an attempt to didactically teach the duties of a woman. A man can never tell a woman what her duties are: she will surely end up describing a man in women's clothes, as Harriet Martineau, a virile woman, solved her Woman problem. No, only a woman can discover the height of a woman's nature, and the only way a man can help her is to watch her with respect, and whenever she talks about herself, and take him in inspired moments to heaven. of honor and faith. , to hold it at that point with reverence acknowledging the divinity that speaks through it.

I can never think of a woman without gratitude for the brilliant revelations of her better nature that made her unworthy of me. The angel who walked with me in my youth shamed my ambition and prudence with her generous love in our first interview. I described my prospects. She said: I don't want to hear about your potential customers.

April 10.

The slowly falling snow blocks roads and paths in the forest and closes me indoors. But yesterday the warm southerly wind drew me to the top of the hill, like a dove from an ark, to see if these white waters had stopped, if there was room for my feet. Grass is already sprouting between the holes in the snow, and I walked over the hills and along the edges of the hills wherever the winter bank melted, but I stuck a stick into the bank two meters vertically. I greeted the familiar pine grove that I could not reach; the tops of the pines seemed to cast over me a friendly golden-green smile of knowledge, for it was in my heart that I had not yet arrived home from my belated journey, until I revisited and rejoined these vegetable demons. The air was fine and clear, the southern sky was full of comets, so white and scattered and ethereal were the clouds, as if the belated visit of this foreign wonder had set the fashion for humbler meteors. And all around me, newly arrived sparrows, thrushes, bluebirds and blackbirds announced their arrival with great enthusiasm.

The Transcendentalist or Realist differs from the Cleric in that he limits his assertion to his perception and never goes beyond his experience (spiritual and sensory) in his belief. Whereas the clergyman asserts many things received on the basis of testimony as of equal value to moral intuition.

I told Mr. Means that the Germans should not be consulted, but if he wanted at any time to know what the Transcendentalists believed, he could simply omit what he had added in his own mind from the tradition, and the rest would be Transcendentalism.

The Church confirms this and that fact of time and place; describes the circumstances; random sky; accidental hell. The way of the Spirit is different. It never precedes its announcements, it never says when or how; but he saysTo be Then euand through our actions it opens the way, illuminates the path we must follow and creates new, unforeseen relationships around us.

Daniel Webster is a big man with little ambition. Nature built and holds him as a model of the heroic mold for this feeble generation. He was the virtual President of the United States from the time of the Speech on Resolutions in the United States Senate in 1832, he was considered the interpreter of the Constitution and the upholder of the law. But that wasn't enough; he also wanted to be an officer; he wanted to add the title to his name and be president. It destroyed him. He would learn from the Chinese that "it never happened that when a man could make the old men wear silk in a place where mulberry trees did not yet grow and where there were no poultry, pig or sheep breeders, he could make the old men eat meat, and the young men do not suffer from hunger or cold, - he did not become emperor."

O Cushion of Nectar.In nature, the tendency to make man an idle and idiotic savage, by the seduction of forests, mountains and waters, is a visible example of the partiality or a little excess of force that is always added in vital directions.

Buddhism.Winter, night, sleep, these are all invasions of the eternal Buddha, and each day he gains a point. Whatever, now so popular in philosophy and politics, is bald Buddhism; and then he has very beautiful names to cover his chaos, namely, trance, ecstasy, abandonment, ecstasy, - all Buddha, naked Buddha.

A trip, for God's sake! as if every traveler did not feel insolence when he arrived among the workmen in their places. Do you think there is any country where they don't scald milk pots, burn babies and burn bushes? And yet Humboldt can travel, or any other man, when the country seems to travel at his feet, like those railroad workers I met this afternoon.

Nature is the strictest economist,...

Ellen wants to know if she can come and see when the train is passing?

"Dad, what makes the railroad worse?"

I told her she had to go in because it was humid and she would be sick and I couldn't spare my little girl. She replied, "Could you spare it for God?"

It is a compensation for the usual moderation of Nature in these fields of Concordia and the lack of picturesque contours, the ease of navigation. Sometimes I wish I had mountains and ravines and streams like those in Lincoln, New Hampshire, within my eyes and feet; but I am spared the tangle of the forest and the fatigue of the mountains, and I pass through Concord as through a park.

Concord is a small town, but it has its honors. For every ton that comes into town, we earn a handful. We had our share of Everett and Webster, both of whom spoke here. Just like Edward Taylor. As did George Bancroft, Bronson Alcott, Charles Lane, Garrison and Phillips, the abolition orators. We had our shows and processions, magicians and bear gardens, and here too came Herr Driesbach with his cats and snakes, lying on a lioness and kissing a tiger, and wrapping himself, not in leopard skins, but in live leopards, and his companion with an anaconda tip.

The Penobscot Indians come here in the summer and make baskets for us on the riverbank.

Doctor Channing and Harriet Martineau were here, and - which I mean a lot more - Aunt Mary, Ellen, Edward and Charles were here; here is Elizabeth Hoar; here were, or are, Margaret Fuller, Sam and Anna Ward, Caroline Sturgis, Charles Newcomb, George Bradford, Ellery Channing, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Sarah Alden Ripley; Henry Thoreau, James Elliot Cabot.

Formerly, John Winthrop, John Eliot, Peter Bulkeley; then Whitefield; so Hancock, Adams and College were here in 1775.

[Sir. Emerson added in the following years:-]

Kossuth falou conosco no tribunal em 1852. Agassiz, Greenough, Clough, Jeffries Wyman, Samuel Hoar, Lafayette.

April 17.

How honest and trustworthy can we be, say everything we think and still come away feeling that we've woven a rope of sand, that everything hasn't been said yet, due to the parties' inability to get to know each other,although they to use o warmCould they understand just once that I loved to know they existed and that I wished them happy happiness from my heart, but because of my poverty of life and thought, I had no words or welcome for them when they came to me. to see, and I could consent to them living in another city, for whatever claim I felt to them - it would have been a great pleasure. Not that, but something like that, I said, and then, as the speech, as it so often did, turned to character, I added that they were both intellectuals, they assumed they were significant and central, which is what they said, but they were not; but only intellectuals, or scientists, scholars, of the Spirit or of the Central Life. If they were, if the centers of their lives coincided with the Center of Life, I would bend my knees, accept without opposition whatever they say, as if I had said it: just as our saint (though morbid), Jones Much, influenced it's up to us with what was best in him, but I felt in them a slight displacement of these centers which allowed them to stand aside and talk about these factsconsciously.I was therefore free to regard them, not as a dominant fact, but as one in the whole circle of facts. They didn't like paintings, marbles, forests and poetry; I liked them all, including Lane and Alcott, as one more figure in a diverse landscape.

And now, I said, will you spank me before I go, just to get even, so I don't remember I was the insolent one? Alcott was content to contend with the damage which the tyranny of my taste had done to the highest qualities of my society; - which was certainly a very quiet beat. And so I turned away from the divine lotus eaters.

Veracity.Almost all writing of the liberal kind, when it finally ends, takes on the impression of escapism, written to get away from it, written for publishers, booksellers, and all kinds of occasions, not out of dire or divine intrinsic necessity. So many deviations from the truth.

New Englanders are an intellectual race. Mrs. Ripley of Brook Farm said that the young women who came from other farms would work faithfully and do whatever they were given without complaint, but there was no heart in it, but their whole interest was in their intellectual culture.

"Open the cave entrance, and bring those five kings out of the cave to me" (Joshua x, 22), was the text of Dr. Frothingham on the five points of Calvinism.

Carlyle regards all living men as mice and rats, but this is one of the conditions of his genius. Take away that feeling and you might as well make him look stupid.

Carlyle in his new book, as elsewhere, continues the great line of world scholars, Horace, Varro, Pliny, Erasmus, Scaliger, Milton, and upholds their services with abundant merit and honor. If good Heaven has some truth to say, there it is in its place, the ideal body to say it well. Not a prophet, not a poet, but a master of that cunning art which can clothe all facts in a beautiful garment of words. first at Waltham, and years later at Concord, Sarah Alden Bradford Ripley, wife of the Rev. Samuel Ripley.

Nature gives me precious signs in people like William Tappan, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and now eminently in L. M. W., that there will be no democratization in democratic America. How closed and constitutionally separated from the market and gossip!

Other Arrival.I have read of an excellent Millerite who said he looked forward to the Lord's second coming in 1843, but there was some error in his reckoning - he would seek him till he came.

There is a lot of damage to winegrowers. As soon as the heat cracks their seeds and the cotyledons open, the striped yellow bugs and the mute pumpkins, which smell like rotten pears, bite the little plants to death and destroy the melons' hope. And as soon as the grass is well cut and spread on the ground, the thunderclouds, which are the reaper bugs, come roaring down from the sky and make tea out of your hay.

We cannot forgive the worst tactlessness that makes you unable to distinguish between what is to be disputed and what is to be respected or appreciated in your friend's communication. A Choctaw's whelp, a lion's whelp, may be strangled by a boy: and the ablest genius, if he confides his still immature fancies to you, is helpless before your sympathy. Life and death are in your hands, may your power and glory be what they may. Then there is no other role than to throw yourself as far as possible in a neutral frame of mind and attend to his thoughts as much as you can; and where you cannot, be satisfied that you cannot, without criticism. It is, though you may kill him, a Choctaw whelp, a lion cub, and yet he will approve of his hardy herd.

I wrote to Thomas Carlyle about his new book,Past eu

I went to Washington and spent four days there. Two halves of the immense political battery, galvanic coil after coil, rising in row upon row of cymbals from Mexico to Canada and from the sea westward to the Rockies, here end and play and make the air electrified and violent. However, one can feel how little, not how much, Man is represented there. I think that in the superior societies of the universe, angels will show themselves to be molecules, as demons have always been Titans, since the stupidity of the world needs such a mountainous demonstration, and virtue is so humble and concentrated.

It could 1.

I read the old file of Aunt Mary's letters yesterday and felt how well she still fares in all the comparisons with her later friends. No one ever gave more advice, as Elizabeth Hoar quite sincerely said, nor played with more wit and humor in every domestic incident. My life and its early events never appear trivial in your letters, but are full of eyes and given the deepest expression.

In America, everything out there looks like a market, inside an airtight stove of conventionality. Everyone who enters the house enjoys these precious habits: the men, in the market; women, customs. In every female conversation and full influence, light or hard, lurksconventionalThey look at your rug, they look at your hat, your kitchen, your cook and maid, the usual, - to see how they fit in with the common cut of Boston, Salem and New Bedford. But Aunt Mary and Elizabeth don't bring a squad of conventional demons into the house.

It could7.

Yesterday George Bradford walked and talked about the House of Commons, and cleared some of the fog created by gossip: and expressed the belief, shared by him and his friends there, that simple dealings were the best defense of good manners and morals. between the sexes. I suppose danger arises whenever physical closeness grows without spiritual intimacy. The reason there is chastity in marriage is that the parties are universally close and helpful, not just physically. If their wisdom approaches and meets, there is no danger of passion. Therefore, the remedy for impurity must be addressed.

Many events in light wing classes. Alcott and Lane prepare to leave. Channing brought his Lars to Concord, and Henry Thoreau went to New York yesterday - where the warm southerly winds come from.

At Brook Farm this peculiarity is that there is no head. In each family, the paterfamilias; in each factory, a foreman; in the shop, master; in a boat, boatman; but at Brook Farm there is no government, but everyone is master and owner of his own actions - happy, unhappy,

Yesterday the English visitors and I waited all day when they were supposed to leave.

If we could lay down the rule that every man is a guest in his own house, and if we could show our visitors the passages through the house, the way to the fire, the bread, and the water, and thus make them residents of the house, let's leave them to the accidents of intercourse and go about their usual business, the guest would no longer be frightening.

Back at Brook Farm, I understand that everyone subconsciously feels Mr. and Mrs. Ripley; and it is a matter of regret for individuals, who see this special power thrown into the conservative balance. But Mr. and Mrs. Ripley were the only ones who identified with the Community. They got married and that's it. Others are experimenters who will stick with it if progress is made, as they are always ready to back down, but these have burned their ships and are entitled to the moral consideration this position affords. Young people agree that they had faster experiences than elsewhere; live faster.

It could10.

I sent off the L.M.W. manuscript this morning with some regret that my wildflowers were returned. Its value is like relief from literature, these fresh drafts from the source of feeling and thought, far, far away from the shop and the market, or the goal of effect. It reads as in the age of polish and criticism we read the first lines of prose and verse written in a nation.

George Bradford was digging with me yesterday in the bog of his young larch, and we sat down with sphagnum and coptis in bud and a sweet-smelling white violet in bloom. He likes to talk about his new friends. But it is not enough for people to be intelligent and self-interested. They must also make me feel that they have before them a controlling happy Future that unfolds and inevitably shines and illuminates their present hour. Edward Lowell and Charles Emerson hinted at their promise in their greeting or in the smallest transaction. Freedom is frivolous compared to the tyranny of our genius.

The blue sky at the zenith is the point where romance and reality meet. If we were absorbed in all that we dreamed of the sky, and talked to Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, the blue sky would be all that would be left of our furniture. “I wrote this or something like it somewhere else, I don't know where.

Ellery is reticent, Carlyle is not. How many things this book by Carlyle gives us to think about. It is a courageous confrontation of the problem of the time, without luxurious cares, as is the custom of writers, who are generally single and not husbands in the state, but Literature here undressed and went down to the open air. lists.O the gods they are for in between nas you o resemblance of men.A heartfelt Iliad of English troubles. Who can you trust in a fight? Only that which cannot be known, but seen and touched more closely, cannot be seen or touched, but remains unharmed, inaccessible, because a superior interest, the politics of a superior sphere brings it and surrounds it, like an ambassador carries your country. with him. Love protects you from desecration. What a book compared with the privileged English estates!...

Gulliver in between o Liliputanci.This book is so close to life and people that one cannot help but look a little ahead and wonder if this mighty brain will always be locked away in a scholar's library; the most intelligent Englishman will have no ambition to do what he describes, and when the time comes when these gusts of keen advice will be fully penetrated into the ears and hearts of the population, and the population is Carlyle's, if our energetic Samson does not has part as ruler. However, no one, not the sergeant-at-arms or the newspapers, still shouts "Cromwell".

A Londoner must be exaggerating a social problem.

Flow pharma Again!The aberrations of young philosophers show how much life they have, as jockeys, when a horse rolls on the ground, add a golden eagle to the price of each lap. But nothing will replace loyalty. The end result will be the same for Mrs. Ripley and for the real workers. However, he would like to tell the dear young man that pride and pretense will last a year or two, but they are serpent's eggs and will end in serpents, though now they look like alabaster and the eagle's egg of Jupiter; that God allowed us to be represented in Genius, but in Virtue we must appear in person.

Brook Farm will show some noble victims, who act and suffer in temperament and proportion, but the bulk will be light adventurers and avoid work.

It could18.

I left yesterday, at the hand of Cyrus Warren, nineteen young pines west of my house and four in the triangle.

I never see a completely non-musical character. Beautiful results are invested everywhere.

All sexual relations are random and distant, but what ardent and comforting friendships we have! An ideal trip always with us, a paradise without rent and without borders. We never know as the days go by which day is worth it. The surface is troubled, but tranquility is underneath.

Nature goes on making fools of us all, adding a drop of nectar to every man's cup.

Machinery and transcendentalism go well together. Stagecoach and Railroad tear up the old legislation like a green gutter.

My garden is a fair place. Every tree and every vine cannot be hidden and after two or three months they count exactly the treatment they received. The sower can err and sow his peas the wrong way: the pea does not err, but comes and shows its line.

It doesn't matter how long they are silent. Silence is just a delay: the retained thought takes on a milder form... You must listen to birdsong without trying to transform them into verbs and nouns. Let it rest for a while and in the evening you will see that you have transferred your expression to the story of the day. Our American lives are rather poor and pale, Franklins and Washingtons, without a speck of fire; calm people, like our pale and timid flora. We have too much freedom, we need austerity, we need some iron belt.

The poets, the great ones, were famous wretches who begged the world to beg them.

I work in; the bee works all day, all summer, not knowing who she works for, until the hive is full. Then a superior being, Man, comes along and takes over the shop. As long as he feels the gluttony of reading, let him read in the name of God, without asking why and where. Sometimes you will serve a man or men, a continent or perhaps a higher sphere of being.

It could19.

A young man named Ball, a native, he tells me, of Concord, came to me yesterday, who rose in such declamatory conversation that at first I thought it was a rhodomontada, and that we would soon be done with each other. But he proved to be a remarkable reader, as well as a writer (for he spoke of whole volumes of prose and poetry being thrown into the water), and he revealed great wisdom and wit in his criticisms - the great impatience of our New England Straits. , and the desire to go to the Ganges or at least live in Greece and Italy. There was little precision in his thinking, a great deal of dissatisfaction with metaphysics, and he seemed to have a musical rather than a mathematical structure. With a little more rest, he would be an excellent companion. He thought very humbly of most of his contemporaries: Napoleon, with whom he thought it was good to change eras, but whom he could see right through him; but he could not forgive Lord Bacon for not having seen Shakespeare, for, he said, "all the Lord Bacons that are in Concord can find enough room in Shakespeare's brain"; and the pope's perverse thinking and splendid rhetoric he found "like rats' nests in the king's closets, dressed in crown, purple tunic, and regalia." He knows Greek well and reads Italian, German and Spanish. He spent five hours with me and brought a stack of books. He had never known but one person of extraordinary promise, a young man from Dartmouth named Hobart.

Critical.Don't write modern antiquities like Landor, Goethe, Wieland or ColeridgeAncestralor from scottTo lie down of o Span Minstrel.They are necklace gems. You can take an old subject where the form is only incidental, like Shakespeare's plays, and the treatment and dialogue are simple and state-of-the-art. But don't make too much of the costume. Because such things have no truth; no man shall live or die for them: The mode of writing is to cast your body on the target when your arrows are spent, like Cupid at Anacreon. Shakespeare's speeches inLearare in their own dialect in 1843.

The Demiurge's loud speech to his gods intimesGoethe's Soul of the World is a continuation of the same thought. And that's what the Intellect does; distributing and making beauty to order.

This creative vortex has not turned over London, over our modern Europe, until now in the Carlyle. Humboldt is also magnificent as an eye of distribution. His vision is layered; plant geography, etc.

It could20.

Dated Ellery. The magic of color was felt in the landscape; the world is all opalescent, and these ethereal shadows cast by the mountains have music's best effect on us. Mountains are great poets, and one look at this beautiful cliff scene cancels out much of the prose and restores us to the wounded in our rights. Our whole life, our whole society starts to lighten up and become transparent, and we generalize bravely and well. Space is perceived as a big thing. There is some constriction and narrowness to us, and we laugh and jump as we see the world, and what breadths it has of meadows and streams and mountains and forests and seas, which are after all but alleys and crevices to the great space in which the world floats like a boat at sea. A small canoe with three figures sailed from the creek to the river and sailed down the river to the Bridge, and we rejoiced in Holy Water, invulnerable, magical, whose nature is Beauty, who immediately began to play her sweet games, all circles and dimples. and enchanting luminous movements, - always the Ganges, the Holy River, and which cannot be profaned or made to be forgotten. But down there are those farms, and the farmers are not poetic. Professional life does not make people, but suffering. It is pleasant, as the habits of all poets can testify, to think of great landowners, to count on this grove through which we walk in the nobleman's park; but a continent divided into ten-acre farms is not desirable to the imagination. The farmer is a bewitched worker and, after having exhausted his brain, sacrificing thought, religion, taste, love, hope, courage in the sanctuary of work, he ends up bankrupt like the merchant. It's time to look at the matter and decide with a scathing critique whether it's worth living in such conditions....

Ellery said, “The village [of Concord] didn't look too bad from our point of view; —the three churches looked like geese swimming in a pond."

All the doctors I've seen claim to be believers, but they're materialists; they believe only in the existence of matter, not in matter as an appearance but as a substance, and they do not think of a cause. Your idea of ​​spirit is a chemical agent.

I think the stars are an antidote to Pyrrhonism. In the turmoil of the sunlight and the rapid change of mood, one might suspect his identity; but these expressive points, always in their place so immutable, are calming means for men. There is no narcotic as sedative or healing as this one.

A man sheds grief as his skin sheds rain. A worried mind is a great protection. In sorrow, as in joy, all make a great concession to ideal propriety, but few hearts are broken.

Long ago, Edward Everett did for Boston what Carlyle is now doing for England and Europe, in the rhetoric of conspicuous objects.

Remodeling.Chang Tsoo and Kee Neih withdrew from the state to the fields because of misgovernment and showed their displeasure with Confucius' permanence in the world. Confucius sighed and said, “I cannot associate with birds and animals. If I don't follow a man, whom shall I follow? If the world had correct principles, I should not change it.” To seeO four books;Translated from the Chinese by Rev. D. Collier, Malacca, 1828.

[Here follows several excerpts from the same work.]

I enjoy every hour of my life. Few people are so sensitive to pleasure; as a countryman will say, "I spent a month at sea and never missed a meal," so I eat my dinner and sow my turnips, but I never, I think, fear death. It seems to me that it is often a relief, a waiver of responsibility, a waiver of so many annoying little things.

How poetic is this wonderful network of possessions! JP is sitting in his office talking about philanthropy, and his pocket is full of papers, representing dead work done long ago, not by him, not by his ancestor, but by the hands that his ancestor had the skill to set in motion and obtain receipts for. And now these signs of labor hands, long since liquefied in the grave, are respected by all people, and for them J.P. buses, pastures, sheep, oxen and corn.

A great injustice must soon disappear - this right to burden the unborn with government loans.

It's crazy to imagine that there could be something very bad about a woman's position in relation to a man at any given moment; for as every woman is a man's daughter and every man is a woman's son, every woman is very close to a man, she was not a man long ago, but there may be a great difference. As is the man, so is the woman; and as a woman is a man.

The greatest thing is to believe and hope for the good of the world, because those who do so leave the world of experience and create the world in which they live.

It is very strange that nature is so unscrupulous. She is not a saint;...

Luther said that he “preached hard; that gives substance to everything: Hebrew, Greek, and Latin I spare until the scholars get together, and then we make it so twisted and thin that God himself marvels at us.

Reformation, people hate the sound now that they've begun to think it's like reading a novel, which, when it's over, leaves them where they were, carpenters and merchants, and debtors and poor ladies - only they didn't believe the novel, but believed it is. a reformer in the first place. But with any faith that put a new face to the world for poor old eyes, gray hair and wrinkled eyebrows - as Millerism, Fourierism and our other superstitions attest.

The smallest piece of God in a man makes him attractive as a rock. A scholar shines and immediately attracts many young people around him, and if he doesn't have enough God in him to know how to say No, he is considered awkwardly attractive. Man, God, wake up; the bolt of the gate will be broken, the iron fence melted in the forge; man will only measure his acres by his need and skill. I get ten and take ten; I forty, and I take forty; I have a hundred and I will cultivate a hundred. He will know how to stand in his garden and his house as a steward and say, This is the right you must take; this is wrong; therefore let him, O guest! And by its mere abiding there, as a channel of the law, and not of the Self, the human race will feel that it is engaged in its occupation, that it is excluded in its departure.

In dreamy forests, what shapes abound

The poet never found this elsewhere!

Here voices resound and images burn,

And grace upon grace wherever I go.

In the dreamy forest I find what exists nowhere else, and pictures upon pictures everywhere I turn. Over our little "pond of God" the birds flew spectrally; nothing could seem more elysial and unreal. I think that in some Council of Beauty Fire and Water will fight for the apple that illusion gave to Paris, and it will not be given to either of them, but to the Animal, who is the son of both. Because the red bird is fire and the horse in the race is water.

It is pleasant and picturesque to see a man drinking water and eating bread; not like that, coffee and cake.

It's not the journey, it's not the stay, it's the relationships that make life big or small. Some great people who come to us and weave duties and offices between us and they will make our ambrosial bread. "But now it seems to me that I know quite a few first-class people, provided they are necessarily related." Three, four, five, six, seven or eight people, who look at nature and existence without an unworthy look, but are players, and rather sad players in the world, due to lack of work. I saw no one who had in his countenance the expression of ordinary energy, but of laziness, great faculties lying idle, while hands and feet were busy at work.

We don't live in time; we do not belong to this or that century; but we live on quality. A new facial style, a new person, would be a new era and regeneration for us. Nature, the walk through the mountains, always give us an allusion to the poverty of life, and we believe that we run only one thread of experience among millions of different threads that we were able to connect to that single thread of ours.

Life must look awful if we have nothing above us. Paddy appreciates life and it seems solid to him, because he sees and feels a lot and a lot above him. It seems to us rather sad that not even one superstition should remain, no ghost in the vast country and social system of millions, no play to the imagination of millions; and yet it seemed to all nations, for no man knew their superstition as superstition. And we who lie under that spell of lust for money may find ours there, if we consider that the net result of a life spent working hard for possessions, and that which is spent in joy, does not vary much. The farmer, as we passed, led a small group of men on their Eleusinian mysteries through the furrows of the fields. Each step, and then the seed was sown and the ground was leveled, and then another step and no one lifted their face from the ground.

This country must be full of incidents, and then what will the landscape look like! Now our houses and cities are like moss and lichen, so finely set in the rock. One day they will take root like oak trees and be part of the globe.

I don't think we're ready for flying machines yet, so there won't be any...

The mountains on the horizon present us with a higher relationship with our friends than any other we have.

Carlyle must write so or not, like a drunken man who can run but cannot walk. Whoman s a bookis that! without prudence, without compromise, but with total independence. A masterful critique of time. The error is perhaps too much importance given today's circumstances. The poet is here for that, to reduce and destroy all temporary circumstances and to glorify the permanent circumstances of the people, for example, to reduce the British debt and to elevate nature and social life.

It could25.

CriticismIt behooves the novelist not to make any character absurd, but just absurd as others see him....

The sky is a daily feast for the eyes. What sculpture in these hard clouds; what an expression of immense amplitude in this dotted and undulating column, now solid and continental, now disappearing in plumes and auroral reflections. There is no crowd; boundless, cheerful and strong.

Men Representative.Nothing is dead. People and things pretend to be dead...

The gods are jealous and deface their best gifts to humans for some wise mistake, so that we can freeze the vessel that holds the nectar. And therefore, men in all ages have allowed Heaven's heralds to starve and fight evils of all kinds; for the gods will not have their gentle heralds; lest people love the chalice and not the nectar.

My friends are leaving town, and I am sorry that they cannot receive from me that love and service to which they seem to have a rich right according to their purpose and color of mind, and according to their unpopularity. With regard to Charles Lane in particular, I seem to have treated myself with the worst dishospitality, as I never took the man to myself - not even for a moment. A pure, superior, mystical, intellectual and gentle soul, free and young, too, in character, and always treated me with marked tolerance, he is so formidable, - a fighter in the ring, - but he came and stayed so long in sou a stranger in the neighborhood: for his nature and influence do not invite mine, but always freeze me. Sometimes it seems strange to me that the English and New Englanders are so little able to mix. Their methods and temperaments are so different from ours. The first time they score twelve. Our people have more than meets the eye. It seems to me that this man is a born warrior, the most experienced swordsman we have ever seen; good when horn. Metallic in nature, not vegetable enough. Not looking at nature and with his hands away from his head like Alcott's. — We are not willing to trust the Universe to provide goods for the hospitality of the Omnipresent, but we must also receive the honor with office, money and the clinking of dishes.

O poet, a new nobility is awarded with a stone and a bird, and no longer in palaces. Do you know the conditions, tough but equal? You will leave the world and find only the Muse...

[This, the final paragraph of the second series of "The Poet") varies, it seems to the editors for the better, in the magazine, in the following paragraph: — ]

For time in cities is measured by funeral bells, and each hour is separated from the world, but in nature the happy hour picks flowers from the hillsides and the growth of mirth after mirth. You will have a new list and calendar; for the long September day between sun and sun will hold centuries in its pink and yellow depths, and its calendar will be its thoughts and its of you mustGod also wants you to renounce the multiple and double life... And the grave is all you will be denied. Because the Universe is your home where you live and you will not die.

If you comply with these laws, you will have the look of a leader or you will always live in the mountains, observing all the details, but seeing everyone in their place and trend. And you will be greeted with omens that are of well-being and fill you with light.

And thou shalt serve the God Terminus, the limiting Intellect, and love the Limit or Form; believing that Form is an oracle that never lies.

And each man will be for all men, each will be alone in wide Desart; and you will worship him, because he is the Universe in mask.


Hawthorne and I talked about the number of important young people we had seen. H. said that he saw several of which he expected a lot, but they didn't stand out; and he concluded that he should not expect public success from it; he has not lost confidence in his power.

I am often refreshed when I see marks of excellence, and that excellence which fails to impress people in general, who regard it as bar wit and ostentatious intellect, unobtrusive and of little value. — So it comforts me that these gifts are so cheap, and it seems that all people are great, only some adapt to the delicate environment of this world and can swim in it wherever they are placed.


Pride.Pride is so beautiful, pride is so economical, pride eradicates so many vices -...

The people show the quality of the country.

My Chinese book does not forget to record Confucius that his nightgown was one and a half long.

There are people from whom we always expect fairy gifts. Let's not stop waiting for them.


Yesterday at Bunker Hill, an incredible crowd of people, but the village green could not be more peaceful, orderly, sober or even kinder. Webster gave us his plain statement like good bread, but the speech was weak in comparison with his other efforts, and even looked shabby and like Polonius with his poor conservations. When there is no antagonism, as in these festive speeches, and no religion, things don't sound heroic. Washington received the highest score for bad speech. The audience has much to observe, they are so frivolous and easy, every man thinks more of his own inconveniences than of the object of the occasion, and the applause is so feeble and easily obtained. Webster is a great American.

A wonderful crowd: on top of a house I saw a company shading themselves from the sun with a large old map of the United States. A charitable lumber merchant near the bridge wrote in chalk on his accounting room door "500 seats for ladies, free"; and there sat five hundred in white rows. The area inside the square next to the monument was prepared for 80,000 people.

It was obvious that there was a monument and here was Webster, and he knew full well that a little more or less rhetoric meant nothing: ... He was there as a representative of the American continent, there in his Adamic capacity, and that with based on the satisfaction people get from hearing him, that he alone of all men does not disappoint the eye and ear, but is a suitable figure in the landscape.

June 22.

I was at Brook Farm and had a great time. Some confidence was shown in me; and pain had softened Mrs. George Ripley, so I've never seen her in such an advantage. Pleasant weather, happy mountains, and every person you meet is a character, even in casual fantasy. I saw Charles Newcomb and was relieved to find him again in something old, after hearing of so much illness and tenderness. But Charles is not a person to be seen on vacation or at vacation spots, but to live in solitude and darkness, he being the only person in the district to talk to. Also George Bradford told me a little about the history and spiritual relations going forward, but one gets that feeling when one hears of his spiritualism - ah! if they weren't the first to know about it! and he didn't know it was spiritualism.

Scholars are a true hierarchy, only now they are being supplanted by hypocrites, i.e. schoolchildren. Why is it not this man's desire to find a brother who, being more full of God than he is, can hold him steady with the truth until he makes it his own? Oh, with what joy I begin to read a poem I trust as inspiration...

[Under the ink inscription on this page of the Diary, lines written in pencil about "The Poet" can follow, which begin -

But oh, to see your sunny eyes

Like meteors picking their way

And divide the darkness as a new day, &c.

which form the end of the first part of the verses with that title printed in the Appendix aSongs.]

The Chinese are as wonderful for their etiquette as the Hebrews are for their piety.

Those people who spend their whole lives clamoring as if they were on the verge of a great discovery, never discover anything. But nobody had heard of Mr. Daguerre until the Daguerrotype appeared. And now I don't know who invented the railroad.

by DanteVita Noviit reads like the Book of Genesis, as if it were written before literature, while the truth still existed. A few incidents suffice, and they are presented with Oriental breadth and casualness. It is the bible of love.

O Temporary.There are so many unresolved issues that are of paramount importance to resolve - and pending their resolution, we will do what we do...

Diversity.[Here follows a passage on successive pleasures given by various authors, which was printed in "Experience".]All eu it's moving.And when I look at the moon and stars at night, it seems to me that I am standing still and that they are in a hurry.


Living room! screamed the orbs when they first glowed,

And plunged into the vast sky:

Living room! living room! cried the new humanity,

And took the oath of freedom:

Living room! living room! I wanted an open mind,

And found in Variety.

Life.Fools, clowns and goofs form the edges of the tapestry of everyone's life and give a certain reality to the picture. What would we do in Concord without the bars of Bigelow and Wesson and their addicts? And without things like Uncle Sol and old Moore sleeping in Dr. Hurd and in the red charity house over the creek? Tragedy and comedy always go hand in hand.

Life itself is an in-between time and a transition; this, O Indura, is my twenty-thousandth form, and already I feel the old Life welling up under the twenty-thousandth, and I know very well that it builds no new world, except by destroying the old one for the sake of material. .

[In July, Mr. Emerson, by invitation, gave a speech to the Temperance Society in Harvard, Massachusetts. The extract that Mr. Cabot gives in the Appendix to his Memoirs shows that he treated his subject at length, and by no means in the usual narrow and specific manner.]

July 8.

The sun and night sky don't look more peaceful than Alcott and his family in the fruit lands. It seemed that they had accepted the fact, that they had gotten rid of the piece and were at peace. His manners and behavior at home and in the country were the manners of superior people, of people on vacation. What did they have to hide? What did they have to show? And it seemed such an achievement that I thought, as many times before, even more so now, because they had a proper house or a picture was a proper frame, that the country should keep these people in their place because of their culture. Young men and women, old men and women, should visit and be inspired. I think there's just as much merit in good behavior as there is in hard work.

I will not prejudge your successes. They look good in July. We'll see them in December. I know they are better alone than as partners. It's easy to see that they still have a few things to work out. The fact that they say that things are clear and that they are healthy does not make them that way. If in all work they are lovers and not selfish; if they serve the city of Harvard and make their neighbors feel them as benefactors wherever they touch them, they are as safe as the sun.

We spend our money on what is notplease helpand they have the inconvenience of the reputation of money without its advantage. Those who have no looks to follow, the disorderly farmer's wife who greets you at her door, broom in hand, or stops by your bath to answer your question - your home is serene and stately, if your nature is such; but ours is not, whatever our ideas may be, as long as we are not allowed to appear except in costume, and our immunity is bought with money, not with love and nature.

And a distant purple morning

Hidden by intermediate fruits and flowers

Lies buried in many hours.

July 10.

For an hour Ellery Channing denounced in well-placed terms the usurpation of the past, the great frauds of Homer and Shakespeare, which have hindered books and people today in their righteous lives. Oh sure; I assure you that oaks and horse chestnuts are quite obsolete, that the Horticultural Society will recommend the introduction of cabbages as shade trees, which is much more convenient and understandable; all grown from seed upward to its most generous and kneaded tip within its own brief memory; beyond contradiction, the ornament of the world, and as good to eat as the acorn and horse chestnut are not. Tree shade for breakfast! So this whole thing about a man getting compliments from everyone or more than his share of compliments. As they are all alike in nature and abilities, it is absurd for anyone to pretend to exhibit more common sense or virtue than I do. A man of genius, you say? A man of virtue? I tell you that both are malformations, painful inflammations of the brain and liver, and will be punishable in the new State. And if they do appear, they will be treated as all sensible Spartans and Indians do lame and deformed children, they will be thrown into the river, and thus the running average will be improved. nothing that is notpr temporenow it will be tolerated: pyramids and cities will give way to tents. The man, the skeleton and the body, which have been accumulating for years, will not be in vain: his dinner, the mutton and the rice he ate two hours ago, are now rapidly flowing into the chills, that's all we consider; and the problem of how to separate the new dinner from the old - what we respect from what we despise - deserves scientific study.

[Music “Blight” follows.]

The clergy is the Chinese etiquette or empire of our American society. They are here that we may not be fed and bedded, die and be buried like dogs, but, lacking dignity, may be honored with a sufficient parade and gentle gradations of greeting on arrival and departure. If someone dies and it saddens us deeply, so that people cry with sincere words, the priest closes his mouth and preaches about miracles, or parables, or Solomon's temple, because the family is nottive to bleed from them Observation;if any new offense against the law, or any important event, fills men's minds with inquiries and forebodings, the pulpit is silent.

Ellery, who hopes there are no cows in Paradise, discovers what cows are for, namely to give the farmers something to do in the summer. All this mowing takes place in the middle of summer, between planting and harvesting, when all would be idle except for this cow and ox, to be fed and mown; and thus prevent Intemperance and the progress of Crime!


Montaigne temof quoiwhat the French cherubim had not, when the kind archbishop asked them to be seated. Reading him was Plutarch.

It is high time we had a Bible that is not a parochial record, but one that opens up the history of the planet and connects all the trends and overshadows all the epics and philosophies we have. They will not have the Book of Ruth and Esther, the Song of Songs, nor the excellent and sophistical Paul.

As if any taste or imagination could give it an identity. Old duty is old God.

Alertness is youth; hold the old world in our hands, awaiting our new task, and be scolded by the child, the bastard, the philistine, and happily walk a new path. The moral sense is well called Newness, for it is but a surprise, and the elder angels are the boys it whips and scourges, though their scars give the joy of martyrdom.

In the barn I have a carpenter's table and two planes, a razor, a saw, a chisel, a lathe and square. These planes seem to me great institutions, whose inventor no one knows, but what a stroke of genius each of these tools was! When you have them, you have to watch the worker for a month, or a year, or seven years, as our boys do, to know all their tricks with them. Tubal Cain is great. A good pen is a finer and stronger instrument, and language, algebra, arithmetic, music or poetic meter, still more wonderful tools, for this polygon or pentagon called Man. Thanks also to Pythagoras for the multiplication table.

To let go of a heavy burden

Of himself as a woman would.

August 5.

I returned home from Plymouth, where I spent a fine day on an excursion to Half Way Pond, dining at Mrs. R... . We were welcomed by Mary and Lucia Russell, and joined by Abraham Jackson and Helen Russell. Mrs. R. was a true Yankee and spoke her provincial English with such fluency that Walter Scott or Dickens could not wish for a better example of local life. Mr. Faounce, Mr. Swift and Mr. Stetson, his preachers at "Ponds" (meaning Monument Ponds), baptism by immersion and sprinkling, Mr. Whitefield, the "Univarsallers", the schools and renovation of Church at the Ponds and elsewhere, and the drowning of his son Allen in a ship loaded with paving stones that sank in a storm near Boston Light, and the marriage of his son's widow, were the principal events of his life, and the affairs of his life. her conversation. She lives alone in this pleasant and peaceful scene at the top of the lake and is never restless except in a night storm.

I cannot say what I found in Plymouth, except the discomfort of seeing people. Every worthy person, man or woman, I see causes me pain as if I had hurt them, for my inability to do justice to them in the relations that happen between us. Two or more people deoxygenate the air together, become indifferent and paralyzed. I spin like a poor eel on an exhausted receiver, and my belief in his sanity and virtue only makes matters worse for me by accusing me of wrongdoing. I was made for chronic relationships, not moments, and I'm unhappy with nice people who are only there for an hour.

It is a city of great local and social advantage, Plymouth; it stands by the sea with this beautiful land, broken and dry, covered with pines and dragged into the beds of two hundred lakes. They say there's a lake in Plymouth for every day of the year. The Billington Sea is the best of all, and yet this magnificent chain of lakes which we pass on our way back from Half Way Pond could last a hundred years.

The botany of the region is rare. Epigæa, called the Mayflower in Plymouth, is now found elsewhere. The beautiful and fragrant sabbatia, empetrum, sundew, rhinanthus or yellow rattlesnake and other plants are almost peculiar to this place. The great lime trees raise their green domes above the city as seen from the sea, and the cemetery hill shows the monuments of the pilgrims and their children as far out to sea as we could see anything from the city. The virtues of the Russells are as eminent and fragrant here, at this time, as ever was the fame of that name in England: and L - is a flower of the sweetest, softest beauty that real life ever showed. These men know so well how to live, and have such a perfect fit with their tastes, and their power to satisfy them, that the ideal life is necessarily thrown into the shade, and I never saw strong conservatism appear so kind and wise. We saw their well-built houses, which an equal and generous economy warmed and animated; and their good neighborliness has never been surpassed: the use of bells and knockers seems unknown. And the nice children who played in the backyards and squares seemed to come from a kinder and gentler background.

[Until about 1852, Concord was a "county town" and courts were held there, which were later moved to Lowell. In the summer of 1843, in a somewhat remarkable case, the CommonwealthaboutWyman, an eminent barrister, was tried there, an employee of the Charlestown Bank accused of embezzling its funds. Some passages from this entry were used by Mr. Emerson in 1854 in his speech in New York on the “Fugitive Slave Law”; but it seemed best to keep them here, so as not to break the continuity of the text. (See pp. 222, 223.)]

August 17.

webster already Concord.Mr. Webster loses nothing compared to the bright men of the legal profession: he is as far ahead of them as the average lawyer. At least I thought he ranks among the best barristers in the Suffolk Bar, as a teacher among their lads.

His wonderful organization, the perfection of his speech and everything that belongs to it - voice, accent, intonation, attitude, manner - are such as you cannot expect to see again in a century; so he is so simple and wise in his rhetoric. Understanding the language and using the positive degree, all your words speak, and your rhetoric is perfect, so simple, so apt, so strong. So he manages his stuff so well, he embraces his fact so closely and doesn't let it go, and he never indulges in a feeble flourish, though he knows perfectly well how to make exordies, episodes, and perorations that can give perspective to his harangue without embarrassing his flat or mess up your transitions. What is small, he shows to the little ones and makes the big big. When he speaks, he sometimes roars and his words sound like ax blows. His personal attack power is terrible, he puts his strength so directly into fair blows, and all his powers of voice, hand, eye and whole man are so sincerely united and committed to the opponent that he cannot help but be felt.

Your "Christian religion" is always weak because it's just popular, as is most of your religion. So he spoke of the value of character; it was simply mercantile; it was to defend a man in criminal cases and the like; and to oppose him to the inspection of all EXCEPT the Almighty, &c. And in describing Wyman's character, he said, he wanted that rigidity of Christian principle which teaches "avoid even the appearance of evil." And man feels at all times that he is going after the real world, and never after the ideal. He is the triumph of Understanding, and undermines and supplants Reason, of which he is, however, so good a witness, since he feeds on him all the time, and his whole nature and skill presuppose him, that I felt as if the children of Reason could have been happy to see his success as a tribute to their law, and to regard him as a poor, rough soldier hired at sixpence a day to fight their battles. Sometimes I looked at him with the same feeling I look at one of those stout Paddys on the railway. Perhaps it was, perhaps it was a sign that I had outlived some of my once more beautiful pleasures, that I found no appetite to return to court in the afternoon and hear the conclusion of their argument. The green fields on the way home were very fresh and bright and forbade me to go back.

His glorious rage, when his eyes turned to fire, is just as good to see, it's so intellectual, and rage at a fact and a cause he supports, and it's nothing personal to him.

Rockwood Hoar said, nothing amused him more than to see Mr. Webster interrupted the court every day, which he did by rising, taking his hat, and looking coldly into the judge's face; who then ordered the Mayor to adjourn the Court.

choate eu Webster.Rufus Choate is the bar favourite, a fluent, nervous orator with a little too much fire for the occasion, but a certain measure in his anger and perfect self-control; but he uses superlatives and speaks very rhetorically about subjects. This property of300.000 USD,owned by the bank, he talks about "huge", and quite academically. And there was no perspective in his speech; the transitions were very smooth and abrupt. But the iron tone of the man of men, the perfect machine he was for arguing the case, immediately overshadowed Choate and all other learned counsel.

Webster behaves remarkably well in society. For him, these village parties are certainly pure water, but he is just good-natured, just indifferent and makes his own way without offending anyone or losing ground. He told us he never reads by candlelight.

Judge Allen told me last night that he has increasing confidence in juries and that he believes that in nine cases out of ten they have reached a satisfactory and correct verdict. He referred to Mr. Hoar, who found this to be true in five out of six cases.

“Sir Walter Raleigh was such a person in all respects that, as King Charles I says of Lord Strafford, the Prince would rather be feared than ashamed. He had that horror and supremacy in his aspect over other mortals, that he was a king - "and here ends Aubrey's manuscript.

Webster is pretty fed up with our little town and I doubt he'll start writing until he leaves the county. He is the natural King of men; they notice in him a real talent for remembering people accurately and for knowing immediately who he is introduced to and who he is not.

He recently bought his father's farm

Franklin (formerly Salisbury), New Hampshire, while the poet Waller wanted to buy his hometown of Winchmore Hill, telling his cousin Hampden, "The hart, when hunted and nearly exhausted, always returns home."

Elizabeth Hoar says she talked with him, how he liked to go behind Niagara Falls and try to look into those famous eye caves and see how deep they were, and the whole man was magnificent. Choate told her that she shouldn't sleep for a week when such a thing was going on, but when they met in Boston on Saturday afternoon to discuss the matter, the others were wide awake, but Mr. in the middle of the query.

It strikes me as quixotic criticism to argue with Webster because he lacks this or that good evangelical quality. He is not a saint, but a wild olive tree, not yet engrafted with grace, but according to his lights a very true and admirable man. It seems that his cost is necessary for him. Had he been a very judicious Yankee, it would have been a sad deduction of magnificence from him. I just wish he had never driven a truck; I don't care how much he spends.

Webster's strength is as much a part of nature and of the world as any definite amount of nitrogen or electricity... After all his great talents have been counted, there remains that perfect correction, which belongs to every worldly genius, which animates every detail. of the action and speaks to the character of the whole so that its details of beauty are endless. Life is big.

I cannot agree to compare him [Webster] to his competitors, but when Clay's men and Van Buren's men and Calhoun's men have done all they can and all their political objections have been accepted, and they've discarded their little man , whatever, on top of the state's martin's box, then, and not before we begin to present the demands of the man of this world, this strong Paddy of time, law and state, for his place in history.

Nature.In nature, the doubt arises whether man is the cause or the effect. Are animals and plants degradations of man? or are the prophecies and preparations of nature rehearsing for her masterpiece in man? Do not culminate; but this point of imperfection that we occupy - is in the wayto bleedorbelow?

Again, the world (according to the old doubt) is to be criticized for anything other than as the best possible under the existing system: and is the world's population the best that the soil, climate, and animals allow?

"Will is the measure of power." — PROCLUS intimes

"Prudence is the mediator between intellect and thought." —

"Intellect is that by which we know concepts or limits." — ARISTOTLE.

"Beauty swims in the light of form." — PROCL.

"The intellect", according to Amelio, "is threefold, the one who is, the one who has and the one who sees." — PROCL.

"Law is the distribution of intellect." — PROCL.

"Every soul pays attention to what is inanimate." — PLATO, inPoedro

It's miserable to find a friend willing to love you, with whom, however, due to some inability, you can't communicate with that grace and strength that only love allows. You want to repay his kindness by showing him the dear relationships that exist between you and your chosen friends, but you feel that he cannot imagine you, whom he knows so slowly and coldly, in these sweet and tender ways.

Trust your power, whether you are a nurse or a lumberjack, Van Amburgh a lion tamer or Stewart a steam candy maker, maintain your shop, enlarge your office. Fear stains our work, and ignorance gilds our neighbor's, but safe years chastise our dismay.

[Here follows many passages from the third article of the Pentateuch of most ancient Chinese classics. Some are given here.]

“The way of Chow is straight as a whetstone and straight as an arrow. Superior men follow her, and inferior men look to her as their model."

“I'm sorry, my heart; I am hated by the lesser herd."

"He who does not err or forget, is the man who conforms to the ancient canons."

"Let the rain fall first on our public fields and then on our private fields."

(from you)

Apparent imitations of invisible natures.

Victor Genius must have a book. - FIGHTING.

I want to speak with complete respect for people but sometimes I feel that great care is needed to preserve proper politeness as they blend so quickly....

August 25.

The railway whose building I inspected this afternoon brings much picturesqueness to our countryside.

There is nothing in history that can compare to the influence of Jesus Christ. Chinese books say of Wan Wang, one of their kings: "From the west, from the east, from the south and from the north there was not a single thought that did not submit to him." This can be said with more truth of Jesus than of any mortal.

Mencius says: "A sage is a teacher of a hundred ages." When one hears of the ways of Pih E, the fool becomes intelligent and the wavering becomes resolute.”

Fourier carries the entire French Revolution in his head and much more. This is arithmetic with a vengeance.

When it comes to good breeding, what I most demand and insist on is respect. I like that each chair is a throne and holds a king. And what displeases me the most is the lack of sympathy from everyone for the neighbor's taste....I respect cats, they seem to have much more on their minds besides the mess....I prefer the tendency towards dignity to excessive unity.

In all I would have the Isle of Man unharmed. There is no degree of affection for attacking this religion….

One accusation that a lady of great trust made to me against her companions was that the people whom all people would previously have trusted were not responsible. They saw the need for the work to be done and they didn't do it; and that, of course, had to be done by her and some directors. I replied that, in my experience, good men are as bad as thieves, that the conscience of the conscientious runs in their veins, and that the most accurate in some details are broad in others.

Henry Thoreau sends me an article with the old error of unlimited contradiction. The trick of his rhetoric is soon learned: it consists in replacing the obvious word and thought with its diametric antagonist. He praises wild mountains and wintry woods for their homeliness; snow and ice for your warmth; villagers and woodcutters because of its urbanity, and wild because it resembles Rome and Paris. With a constant tendency to look down on cities and civilization, he still finds no way to get to know the forests and forestmen, except by comparison with cities and citizens. Channing said the article is excellent: but it makes me nervous and unhappy to read it, for all its merits.

The thinker seeks God in the direction of conscience, the clergyman out of it. If you ask the former what his definition of God is, he will reply, "My possibility"; by his definition of a man, "My reality".

"Get up," said the coachman, "and the rain won't wet you a bit."

We like Homer's strong objectivity and the primitive songs of each country, the Chinese and Indian ballads and phrases, but this cannot be preserved in a large civilized population. The scholar will inevitably separate from the mechanic, he will not live in the same house or see his work so close, having to adopt a new classification and a more metaphysical vocabulary. Hawthorne boasts that he lived at Brook Farm in its heroic age: then they were all intimate and each knew the other's business: the priest and the cook talked in the evening about the business of the day. Now they complain that they are separated and there can be no such intimacy; there are a hundred souls.

It's as if in this country we had an abundance of discernment and a great taste for writing: only the descriptors wanted the themes. But this is misleading. A great descriptor is known for finding themes.

The peasant I visited this afternoon is working hard and skillfully to get a good piece of land, and he is getting it. But by your skill and diligence, and by the skill and diligence of thousands of others, your competitors, the wheat and milk on which I live are so cheap as to be within my meager means, and I am not compelled to go to work. and produce them for me. Tuttle told me that he once carried 41 bales of hay to Boston and earned $61.50 for the load. But it is not part of T.'s plan to keep the prices of hay, wheat or milk low.

How long are you going to stay

Are you ruining your friend's day?

Every substance and relationship

In the action of nature

It has its own unit and meter;

And new compounds are multiples of that.

But the visit unit,

Or a meeting of friends,

It's the meeting of your eyes.

The founders of Brook Farm are to be commended for making what all humans try to do a pleasant place to live. All who come, even the most demanding, find the abode more pleasant.

If you look at those railroad workers and listen to their stories, their fortunes seem as out of control as the fortunes of leaves in the forest. One was taken to Albany, one to Ohio, one digging in the dike at New Orleans, and one at Walden Pond; others on the wharves of Boston or in the woods of Maine, and have very little foresight and very little money to leave them any more choice where to go or what to do than poor leaves that fall into this landfill or that creek to perish. "To work night and night for fifty cents a day," as a poor woman in a shack told us, is a paltry wage for a married man.

Few people know how to spend a large fortune. The beauty of wealth is power without pretensions, despotism under the quietest speech and under the simplest clothes, neither rich nor poor. stay cool, mount, fly, execute or suspend execution as he sees fit, and see what he wants to happen.

Ellery's poetry shows the Art, although the poems are imperfect, like the first Daguerres are dark things, but they show that the great engine was invented.

superiority ofvathektheyVivianIs life a storm where now we can see the entire horizon in a flash but we can't see to our right?

Families must be formed by a method superior to that used by the Intelligence Bureau. Someone will think it absurd to send a nanny or a farmer there, as if she were a wife. Housemates pass through the common rooms in silence and turn their tongues towards the kitchen door - to bless you?

September 3.

Representative.We go after ideas, not people, the man at the moment is behind the thoughts....

My friend came here and pleased me in many ways and, as usual, displeased me with myself. She has increased my knowledge of life, and her sketches of manners and people are always invaluable, she sees so clearly and steadfastly through the veils. But best of all is the warning that comes to me of the demand for beauty so naturally created wherever your eyes land, that our ways of life, our laziness, our indulgences, our desire for heroic action, are put to shame. However, I sincerely welcome the rebuke. When that which is so beautiful and noble passes away, I seem enlarged; all my thoughts are spacious; the ventricles of the brain and the lobes of the heart are larger. As always I am amused by the qualities of that "vis superba formae" which inspires art and genius but not passion: there is something in beauty which cannot be forgiven, but which requires nature's greatest richness in the beholder to properly attend to it.

We cannot completely demolish and degrade our life and deprive it of poetry. The diarist is popularly regarded as the bottom of the social ladder: yet, talk to him, he is saturated with the wonderful laws of the world...

I would have been satisfied with any form of government in which the rulers were gentlemen, but I tried in vain to convince myself that Mr. Calhoun, Mr. Clay or Mr. Webster were; they are underlings and take the law from the dirtiest guys. In England it generally seems that power is entrusted to people of superior feeling, but they have not treated Russia as they should have treated Poland. It is true that these fellows should hear the truth from other quarters, not from the anti-slavery papers, the Whig papers, the investigators and all other engaged bodies. We allowed them to occupy a certain place in private society as if they were at the head of their countrymen. They must be told that they have disgraced themselves and this can no longer be allowed, they must not now be admitted into the society of scholars.

The main drawback of my social nature (like many others) is my lack of spirit animal. They seem incredible to me, as if God raised the dead. I listen to what others do with their help with fear. It is as much my hospitality as the heroism of the Cœur de Lion or the daily work of an Irishman on the railroad. Animal spirits seem to be the power of the present, and their deeds rival the pyramids of Karnac. Before them is what is a memory beggar with his leather badge. I cannot suddenly form my relationship with my friend, or rather I can very slowly come to his satisfaction. I'm making new friends in the old: we'll meet on higher and higher platforms until our first relationship seems to know spinning tops, marbles and ball. I'm an architect and I'm asking for a thousand years of probation. Meanwhile, I am very sensitive to the profound flattery of the Omen.

Does the southern European have more animal spirit than we do, to be such a cheerful companion?

A visit to the railroad yesterday at Lincoln showed me the workers - how big they are; all your postures, your appearance and your own clothes. They are people, male servants, and the sculptor's skill is to take these shapes and put a well-manicured face and head on them. But cultivation never, except in war, creates such forms and means of transportation as these.

I think it will soon become the pride of the country to make gardens and decorate country houses. It is an art that is special to us. Sculpture, painting, music, architecture don't work here...

C.S. came another day, with his eyes full of Naushon and Nahant and Niagara, day and night dreaming of canoes and lightning and deer parks and silver waves, and he could scarcely hide his contempt for our poor cold low life in Concord like rabbits. in a lair. However, the interior of our forest, which recommends us a place, she did not see... The great sun equals all places, - the sun and the stars. The great features of Nature are so identical that, whether in a mountain or waterfall, or in a flat meadow, the presence of great factors makes insignificant the presence or absence of inferior features. With sun, with morning and afternoon.

The difference between men, if external tests could be accepted, is in the strength of the face....

But it is easy to see that as soon as one acts for the great masses, the moral element will and must be allowed, will and must act. Daniel O'Connell is no saint, but in this vast assembly on the Hill of Tara, eighteen miles from Dublin, of five hundred thousand people, he almost preaches; he advocates moderation, law and order, and proposes all conciliatory, kind, humanizing considerations. There is little difference between him and Father Mathew, when the crowd has grown so enormously.

Ellery says that at Brook Farm they keep Curtis and Charles Newcomb and a few others as decoy ducks.

Life.Great lack of vital energy; excellent starters, poor performers. I think there were factories above us that stopped the water....

God will have life to be real; we will be condemned, but it will be theatrical.

Fear haunts the construction of the railroad, but it will be American power and beauty when it is completed. And better are these peaceable shovels, however blunt they spear in the hands of these Kernes; and this hard day's work of fifteen or sixteen hours, though condemned by all mankind in the vicinity, and though all Concordia cries Shame! about contractors, the police are better than the sheriff and his deputies to have a challenging sense of humor.

Public appeal indicates weak faith... However, this must be said in defense of Alcott and Lane, that their public appeal is a recognition of humanity as evidence of an abiding interest in other people, of whom they wish to be saviors. .

It is in vain for me to say that you are enough, but you have nothing to give. I know and I am convinced that whoever is self-sufficient will be self-sufficient for me, even if only by existing.

It is a great advantage to study for a while in an office or law firm; then you can be sure to be a scholar for the rest of your life and you will find use for that partial skin thickening every day as you will wear your shoes or hat. From what mountains of nonsense you will clear your brain forever!

We admire inclination, but men who show it are grass and waves, until they are conscious of what they share: then it is still admirable in them, as it were; yes, how much more darling!

There is no chance of an aesthetic village...

September 26.

Charles Lane left us this morning after a two-day visit. He was dressed entirely in linen, except for his shoes, which were lined with linen, and he wore no stockings. He was full of methods for improving life: he appreciated himself now for getting rid of animals; he believes there is no economy in using it on the farm. He said that they could continue their Family in Fruitlands in many better ways, no doubt if they wanted to play well. He said that the clergy were for the most part opposed to the Temperance Reform, and especially to this simplicity of diet, because they were alarmed, as soon as such inconsistency appeared, with the belief that the next question the people would ask would be, "Of What is the clergy for?" In college he found classes in arithmetic, Latin, German, Hebrew, but no creative classes. He had that confidence, that is, yeah§Zdravo, e he is after he is after s:that there was no point in leaving the act of serving or killing cattle to another or third person; like in cities, for example, it would certainly return to the perpetrator in some way, like by brutalizing the person or people you brutalized.

[A few test lines for “Ode to Beauty” follow.]

The poet must walk through the fields, lured by new visions, fueled with vivid images and thoughts, until the memory of his home is driven from his mind, and all memory is erased, and nature leads him in triumph.

When he spoke of the stars, he must be innocent in what he said; for the stars, as they rolled over him, seemed to reflect in his mind as in a deep well, and it was their image, and not his thought, that you saw.

For true wisdom, it is not important how many proposals you add on the same platform, but only which new forms. I knew something about the American Revolution, the action at Bunker Hill, the battle of Monmouth, Yorktown, etc. Today I learn new details about General Greene, Lee, Rochambeau.

But now that I reflect on the event with a changed mind, and see what a compliment all this self-aggrandizement is to England, and betrays the slavish mind in us that thinks it so great an action; leads to doubts about the courage and intelligence of fans, who should see these things as things.

Let us shame parents with the virtue of their children, and not despise ourselves with boasting.

We must thank the non-conformist for all the good he does. Who has the right to ask why he connects with this or that faulty one?

Certainly the objection to the reform is the common sense of mankind, which seems to have settled several things; trafficking and use of animals for work and food. But it will do no good to offer this as an argument, foreis precisely the basis of the dispute.

Read Montaigne's trip to Italy, which is an important part of his biography. I like him so much that I even appreciate the record of his illness. Does the valetudinarian guarantee that he is not ashamed? What a treasure, then, to expand your knowledge of his friend with his narrative of the last days and death of Etienne de la Boëtie. Recently, in Boston, when I heard Chandler Robbins preach Henry Ware's funeral sermon so well, I thought of Montaigne, who must also have felt how wide and deep this surface called Unitarianism admits to be, and how good and defensible a place of life that should be taken like any other. It was the true music of the cathedral and it brought the mass and the weeds, surplices, shrouds, coffins and hierarchies into the presence. Montaigne is certainly the enemy of the fanatical reformer. Under the most ancient and musty conventions it would have prospered as well as it does in the modern world. Their common sense, though not a science, is quite worthy of a Seven.

Daniel Webster has recently been called "the steam engine in his pants" by the newspapers, and people often call him "Daniel", a sort of New England proverb about vast knowledge - "if only I knew as much as Daniel Webster".Os, and eyes jovi par.

Henry Ware, with his benevolence and cool manner, often reminded people of a snow-capped volcano. But there was no deep enthusiasm... All his talent was available, and he was a good example of the proverb, doubtless applied a hundred times to him, of "a free horse led to death". He should have died ten years ago, but hard work kept him alive. He had a very thin and weak build, and the impression of greatness came from his head. He was then dressed in heroic simplicity. I think he's entitled to the pulpit teacher's dangerous style of eloquence - none other than Channing did so well, and he had ten times Channing's business courage. He was a soldier who at all times exposed himself to all risks, not a solemn martyr who was once burned and proud of the flames. In quiet hours and in friendly company, his face spread out in a broad, simple sun; I thought soo bon Henriquepumpkin jam.

Plato paints and complains, and some phrases that move the sea and the land.

George B. Emerson read me a review of Spenser, who makes twenty trees of different kinds grow in a grove, which the critic says is an imaginary grove. George, however, has no doubts that it was after nature, as he knows a patch of natural forest near Boston where twenty-four different trees grow together in a small grove.

New England cannot be painted without a portrait of Millerism with the new rise of hymns.

"You will see the Lord coming

To the ancient courts,

With a band etc.

"He will awaken all nations

In the courtyards of the old church.

"Let's march into town

Of ancient cemeteries."

Heavy clouds, rough facial expressions and rough manners, I love it.

Aristocracy.In Salem, the aristocracy tend to be merchants; even lawyers are second rate. Boston has an aristocracy of families who inherited their wealth and position, as well as lawyers and merchants. In Charleston, the merchants are the underclass, the farmers the aristocracy. In England, aristocracy, embodied by law and education, degrades the lives of the less favored classes. A long time ago, they wrote on signs in the streets: "What are you gentlemen for?" And now that the squalor of Ireland and the industrial estates of England are starving and snarling around the park fences of Lord Shannon, Lord Cork and Sir Robert Peel, the park and castle will be a less than pleasant abode... thatOrderas "part of the order of Providence," as my good aunt used to speak of the rich, when I see, as everywhere, a class born with these attributes of government. A class of officers I recognize everywhere in town or country. These gallants come into the world to mess it up, find their way to the top, rough or smooth. When I spoke to Nathaniel Hawthorne about the class that holds the keys to State Street and is still excluded from Boston's best circles, he said, "Maybe he has a difficult wife."

O Reformer (after oThere is a class I call the Virtue Thieves. It is they who make fun of the simple and sincere fighters for a better life and say: These are pompous orators; but when they act, they are weak, they don't even listen to what they say. These scoffers constantly turn to the old and say, Why do we pretend to be unique? May those born in this age behave like the people of this age. Thus they secretly obtain the flattery of the times... Crowds appreciate them and confuse virtue.

Chin Seang praised He Tsze Mencius as a prince who taught and exemplified righteous living. A truly virtuous prince, he added, he will plow alongside his people and, as long as he rules, make his own food.

Mentions.Does Heu Tsze sow the grain he eats?

Seang E.

M.Heu Tsze weaves fabric and then wears it?

S.No: Heu Tsze wears thick hair.

M.Nosi li Heu Tsze kapu?


M.What kind of cap?

S.Rough lid.

M.Pravi li ga sam?

S.No: he gives grain in return.

M.Why not do it yourself?

S.It would be detrimental to your agriculture.

M.Does he use clay to cook his food or iron to grow his farm?


M.Does he make them himself?

S.No, he gives grain in exchange for them.

M.Why doesn't Heu Tsze play potter and take what he wants from his own shop? Why would he be confused trading items with mechanics? Surely she is not afraid of childbirth?

The work of a mechanic and a farmer must not be combined.

M.Ah, so ruling the Empire and working as a farmer are the only jobs that should go together. If every man did every kind of work, it would be necessary first to make his tools, and then to use them: thus all men would be continually huddled together on the roads. Some people work with their minds and others with their physical strength. Those who work with all their might are managed by people. Those managed by others feed others. This is a general rule under all heavens.

Mencius continues with the example of Yu, who after the flood spent eight years abroad ordering the opening of canals to discharge the water into the sea and the burning of forests and swamps to clear the land of predators, so that he had neither time nor to go home, but passed his own door several times without going in; and asks if he had free time to cultivate, was he inclined? Yu and Shun have occupied all their minds in running the Empire, but they still haven't plowed the fields...

gonzalo youstormanticipates our reformers.

If I planted this island, my lord, and I was its king, what would I do?

In the community, I would do everything the other way around; for no type of traffic I would admit; without the name of the magistrate; You don't need to know the lyrics; wealth, poverty and use of services nothing; contract, inheritance, Bourn, bound land, arable land, vineyard, nothing; No use of metal, corn, wine or oil:

Interest-free; all idle men, all; And the women too; but innocent and pure:

No sovereignty.

However, he would be king on't.

Gon.All things in ordinary nature should produce Without sweat or toil: treason, crime, Sword, spear, knife, gun, or need of any engine, I would not; but nature must bring,

Of your kind, all foison, all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

I would rule so perfectly, sir,

To overcome the golden age.

Ato II, Dinner 1.

Queenie thinks that the people of Fruitlands are very hard on their way of life. He prefers to live in the snow.

Aristocracy.In solitude - in the woods, for example - every man is noble, and we cannot underestimate the calm, straight and simple manners of our farmers.

Nature seems a little perverse and likes to mystify us. Everything changes in ourselves and in our relationships, and twenty or thirty years from now I will find an old cider barrel or a well-known rusty nail or hook or unaltered tea towel.

The only straight line in nature that I can remember is a spider coming down from a branch.

The rainbow and horizon seen from the sea are good curves.

For laughter never looked on his forehead.


In Saadi, I find many traits that match the portrait I drew. He replied to Nizan: "It was said abroad that I repented and gave up wine, but that was heavy slander, because what have I to do with repentance?" Like Montaigne, he learns good manners from the rude and says "there is a tradition from the prophets that poverty has a dark aspect in this world and the next!" He has Gibbon's spice when he describes a teacher so ugly and queer that the sight of him would break the ecstasy of the orthodox.

Like Homer, Dante, and Chaucer, Saadi had a great advantage over the poets of cultivated times, in that he was the representative of the knowledge and opinion of his countrymen. These ancient poets felt that all wit was their wit, they used their memory as easily as their inventions, and they were both librarian and poet, historian and priest of the Muses.

"Our beloved's punch tastes like raisins."

"Dervish says in his prayer, God! have compassion on the wicked; for you have given all things to the good to make them good."

Saadi met in a mosque in Damascus an old Persian, one hundred and fifty years old, who was on the verge of death, and he said to himself, “I said, I'll take a few moments; unfortunately my soul took the path of departure. Unfortunately! at the colorful table of life, I took a few bites, and fate said: Enough!"

“See that the orphan does not cry; for the throne of the Almighty rocks to and fro when the orphan cries."

[In 1865, at the request of the publisher, Mr. Emerson wrote the Introduction to the American edition of Gladwin's translationfloresThis explains the omission of any account of Saadi in the essay on "Persian Poetry", printed incards eu Social Goals.]

Saadi was long the Sacayi or Water Bearer in the Holy Land, "until he was declared worthy to represent the prophet Khizr (Elijah, or Syrian and Greek Hermes) who moistened his mouth with the water of immortality". Someone doubted this and saw in a dream a multitude of angels descending with plates of glory in their hands. When he asked one of them who they were for, he replied, "For Sheikh Saadi of Shiraz, who wrote a stanza of poetry that had the approval of Almighty God."

“Khosraw of Delhi asked Khzir for a drink of this inspiration potion; but he told him that Saadi got the last one.

"On Friday night in the month of the Arabic year 690, the eagle of Sheikh Saadi's immaterial soul shook the dust from his feathers."

No wonder the farmer is so stingy with his dollar...

Ellery says, Wordsworth writes like a man taking snuff.

Tennyson is a master of meter, but as an artist he learned admirable mechanical secrets. It has no woody notes. The dangers of education are great.

I will say this even today, - in literature, I am very surprised by the appearance that one person wrote all the books...

I feel the immense benefit of entertainment today when I see it reveal the character defects of an idol like Webster... Great men numb the palms of their hands by entertaining those who dare not refuse. And lose the tact of greeting wit with frankness, but give that abominable insolence to those who would excuse coldness, silence, abhorrence - anything but pretense and deceit.

In Goethe, it is this sincerity that gives value to literature, and it is that voice or writer who wrote all the good books. In Faust he is honest and represents a real, cultured man with a strong nature; the book would be farrago without the sincerity of Fausto. I think it's the second partFaustothe greatest literary undertaking attempted sinceRaj lost.It is a philosophy of history placed in poetry...


His house is made entirely of oak.

Where the sound never dies,

And while your eyebrows are covered in clouds

Her feet actually hit the ground.

Ben Jonson.

The skeptic says: how can a man love any woman except in delusion and ignorance? The brothers don't want to marry the sisters because they see them too close, and any attraction, like fame, requires distance. But the nature lover loves nature in his lover or friend; he sees the individual's flaws and absurdities as much as you do. No knowledge can drain the abyss. He is not attracted to personalities, but to universalities. The same applies to life. It seems to me that a lesson was learned by one who felt so sure of his own well-being that he disregarded all the details of today and tomorrow, and counted death among the details. He must have such an understanding of the whole that he is willing to be both funny and unhappy.

Literature is the only art that is ashamed of itself. The poet must free himself from routine as much as possible, to increase his chances. It's a game of chance he plays, he has to be free and ready to take advantage of opportunities. Each of them was a great player.

Ellery says that writers never do anything: they are passive observers. Some of them seem to do this, but they don't; H. will never be a writer; he works as a shoemaker.

It is futile to try to get rid of children by ignoring them, dear parents; because children measure their own life by reaction, and if they don't notice the purring and buzzing, they start whining; if this is neglected, shout; then, if you use and comfort them, they will find that the experiment worked and start over. The child will sit in your arms if you do nothing, content; but if you read it, it loses reaction and starts enemy operations:"under condition just one s' employee two"it's the law.

I thought yesterday, as I read Aunt Mary's letters, that I would try to resolve them. With a little selection and compilation, and a little narrative of Ellen and Charles's veiled youth, and, if carried far enough, with Charles's letters and my sweet saint's later letters, there must be a picture of New England. youth and education, so connected with the history of religion and opinion in New England that it is a warm and bright picture of life.

My great grandfather was the Rev. Joseph Emerson of Malden, son of Edward Emerson, Esq., of Newbury (harbour). I have often heard that when William, son of Joseph, was but a boy, walking before his father to church on Sunday, his father interrupted him, "William, you walk as if the earth were not good enough for you."

"I didn't know that, sir," he replied, with the greatest humility. This is one of the household anecdotes in which I found a connection. Interestingly, the same observation was made to me by Mrs. Lucy Brown, when I was walking one day under her windows here in Concord.

What confidence can I have in good behavior and a lifestyle that requires wealth to support it? Shall I never see greatness of bearing and thought combined with power that really earns a living and teaches others to earn theirs?

We descend with free thought on cherished institutions and immediately make a massacre among them. We are innocent of whatever evil purpose the sequel seems to impute to us. We were just smoking a cigar but it turned out to be the powder we walked around with.

If only there could be some security against bad moods!...

O the best or T. from T. span.My divine Thomas Taylor in his translationKratil(p. 30, note) calls Christianity "a certain irrational and gigantic impiety",

People, it seems, came to my lectures with the expectation that I would understand the Republic I described, and stopped coming when they saw that the reality didn't come close. They did me wrong. I am and always have been a painter. I still paint at the top of my lungs and choose the best subjects I can. I have seen many come and go with false hopes and fears, and under the dubious influence of my paintings. But I keep painting. I consider this a special profession that never leaves me in doubt about what to do, but in all times, places and fortunes it gives me an open future, the great happiness of my destiny. doctor C.T.J. was also born for its chemistry and its minerals.

"Persons who in their present life knew a certain divinity from whom they descended, and who always devoted themselves to their true work, were called by the ancientsdivineSee Taylor's page. 32.

And yet what to say to the sighing realist when he passes by, and comes to the vivid painter with deep assurance of sympathy, saying, "He must surely be delighted to climb with me the silver mountains whose vague spells he so tenderly sketched." The painter does not like realists; he sees your faults; he doubts his means and methods; what experiments they work on, both are perplexed; there is no joy. The painter was warned early on that he was endangering his genius with these premature updates.

It is a very painful discovery that we are always discovering that we can only give each other a rare and partial sympathy; for all the time we spend looking at our neighbor's field, and talking with him, is lost to our own, and must be made up for by haste and renewed solitude.

"One Leste a type of luxurious WHO destroy o bon senses, as o luxurious destroy o fortuna

Alcott came, the magnificent dreamer, reflecting, as usual, on restoring or rebuilding the social fabric after the ideal law, unconcerned with being equally rejected by all classes he addressed, and as optimistic and vast as ever; - the most convincing example of the much that Nature adds to the peculiarities of each man. To himself he seems the only realist, and while I and others would want to decorate the monotony of months here and there with beautiful deeds or hopes, he would weave a whole, new texture of truth and beauty... It is very pitiful to see this wandering emperor year after year how he goes from house to house of those who do not exclude him, looking for a companion, tired of students.

We early risers at least have one big advantage: we wake up at four in the morning and have a whole market - we, Ennius and Venerable Bedi, from the empty American Parnassus.

I don't want a man from England.

henrique v.

It is hardly rhetorical to talk about children's guardian angels. How beautiful they are, how protected they are from all the influences of bad people, from vulgarity and double-mindedness. Well-brought-up people ignore trifles and inappropriate things; but the heroes do not see them, for the attention that cares about beauty.

"It's a musk that reveals itself through its smell, not what perfumers impose on us," said Saadi.

I began to write the above sentence from Saadi as a text for some sermon of mine which I muttered aloud this morning as I walked along, in the sense that strength of character is rather weak and insignificant. The poor are good, but if the poor were only once rich, how many good scruples would disappear; how many flourishing reforms would be nipped in the bud. I should see to it that you do what you say, because the tomato vines produce tomatoes and the meadows produce grass. But I find that the seed comes in the dung, and that it is your condition, not your genius, that produces all this tender-hearted democratic harvest.

November 5.

Everything is allowed to genius, and not only that, but it enters into all other human works. A tyrannical privilege to turn every man's wisdom or skill, as it seems, to his own use, or to show for the first time what all these refined and elaborate preparations are for.

See how many libraries are absorbed by a master. Who, in the future, will examine those contemporary and earlier books, from each of which he took the single grain of truth he had, and gave it tenfold value by placing it? The railroad was built for him; for him history is hardly recorded; for him arms and art, politics and commerce waited, like so many servants, until the heir to the estate arrived, which he managed with ease enough.

A genius is poor and has no home; but he sees how this proud owner, who has built a large house and furnished it with refinement, opens it all up to him, and respectfully begs him to make it honorable by going in there and eating bread.

Some philosophers left the city, founded a community where they proposed to pay talent and work at a rate, say ten cents an hour!...

Precision.The dinner bell read, "I laughed at them and they didn't believe me."

The sect is a stove, it ages, wears out, there are a hundred types, but fire preserves its properties. Calvinism is a good story that shows how peasants, paddies and old peasant women can be liberalized and beatified.

The Reformers wrote very badly. They adopted the rule not to seal the flour, and unfortunately, they neglected to sift their thoughts. But Hesiod's great discovery,majority byit is most true in writing, where the half is much more than the whole. Give us only outstanding experiences.

Alcott and Lane want feet: they're always feeling their shoulders to see if they're growing wings; but after the wings are the leather boots, which society always advises them to wear.

Married women uniformly decided against unions.

November 12.

It is more intelligent to live in the country and have poverty than pauperism. However, the citizens or cockneys are also a natural creation, a secondary creation, and their relationship to the city is organic - but it has all the nuances, and we country people are only half-countrymen. As I run across the yard from my woodpile, I see the sun rising or hovering in beauty over a cloud, and I realize how far from that beauty I live, how cautious and small I am. He calls me to be alone.

Where does the light that illuminates things come from? From the soul of a sufferer, an enjoyer.Minerva euPLOTINA, 452.

I knew a person of extraordinary intellectual power, by some real or supposed imputation of the weakness of his reasoning power on the part of the other party, who ardently entered his defense, naming eminent individuals who believed and respected his genius. The moment we quote a man to prove our sanity, we give up everything. No authority can establish this, and if I have lost confidence in myself, I have the Universe against me.

Five minutes today, as I used to preach, is as valuable to me as five minutes a million years from now.

We, the fathers of the American people, must not set a bad example of rejection for centuries. The years are the moments in the life of this people.

Common sense knows what's going on, so it recognizes a fact at a glance in a chemical experiment. The common sense of Dalton, Davy, Black is that common sense which made these arrangements which he now reveals.

Eternity of o World.Different ages of man, in HesiodIt works eu dana,they mark the mutations of human lives from virtue to vice and from vice to virtue. There are periods of fertility and sterility of souls; men sometimes descend with the benevolent purpose of restoring apostate souls to right principles. Hades meant the profound union of the soul with the present body. See Taylor

Euclid, Plato and the multiplication table are spheres in his mind. Use a spoon and you'll get Mrs. Glass or a newspaper: use a bucket and you will have purer water: immerse yourself and you will reach immortal depths.

Therefore, we believe that one man wrote all literary books. It will certainly look that way from a distance. Nobody is dead, neither Christ nor Plato.

Every man reserves the right to be tiresome.

There is a large audience at every public meeting...

[In early December, Mr. Emerson wrote to his brother William that he had received a second order from a bookseller to print a volume of poems. He, at the request of the Reverend James Freeman Clarke, allowed him to print severalWestin Louisville, Kentucky; and he contributed severaldial,and many friends encouraged its publication.]

December 25.

Na performance de HandelmessiahI heard some delightful songs and understood very little of what I was told. My ear received but a little of it... The genius of nature could well be discerned. By right and power we must become partakers of his invention, and not wait for morning and night to know our peace, but possess it in advance.

I walked along luminous paths of sound, and I liked it better when a long line of choruses made the ear insensitive to the music, made it seem as if it weren't there; so I was quite lonely and relaxed in the melodious roar. Once or twice on solos, when sung well, I was able to do tricks, as I like to do, with my eyes - darken the whole house and light and transform the central singer, and enjoy the spell.

This beautiful piece of music took us back to the rich historical past. It's full of the Roman Church and its hierarchy and its architecture. Furthermore, it rests on and requires such a deep faith in Christianity that it seems deprived of half and more than half its strength when it is sung today in this city to unbelievers.

We love morality until it comes to us with mountain melancholy and dark reproach: then we gladly prefer the intellect, the maker of light. Dear sir, you take these fantastic fellows very seriously, you seem to believe they exist.

The solid Earth exudes a certain permanent medium gas which we call the atmosphere; and the solid spiritual sphere of mankind emits the impermanent sphere of literature of which books are individual and inferior effects.

December 31.

The year is ending, and how many years learn what days you never know!... but the individual is always wrong.

At the Socialist Convention in Boston last week, Alcott was present and invited to speak, but said he had no desire to do so.

Though probably none of the current "Community" representatives would admit it, he is actually more the cause of their movements than any other man. He feels a certain parental relationship to them, without approving of any of their institutions. His presence could not leave a single speaker indifferent, and there has been nothing in recent years.

A proper course in English literary history would contain what I can read of Warton and not learn: for example, Marlowe's powerful verse; from CrashawMusician eu Nightingale;of Ben Jonson's visit to Drummond; the list of Wotton's contemporaries; story of John Dennis; inTrial;ofCritical;history of Bishop Berkeley; the Scribblerus Club; by Wood and Aubrey; Shakespeare in the last days; Cotton's Montaigne; of the translator Plutarch; in the Chatterton, Landor, and Ireland forgeries; of Robert of Gloucester; of the Roxburgh Club; ThomasTaylor.

We are opposed to commerce, but the historian of the world will see that it was a principle of liberty; that she established America and destroyed feudalism, made peace and keeps peace; that he would abolish slavery.

Belief eu Infidelity.Kant, it seems, researched the metaphysics of Self-Respect, which is the preferred standpoint of modern ethics, and showed Consciousness that it alone exists.

The two sides of life are believers and unbelievers, with different names. The believer is a poet, saint, democrat, theocrat, free trade, without church, without death penalty, idealist.

The unbeliever supports the church, education, fine arts, etc., asparties.

But infidelity is very deep: who can escape it? I am nominally a believer: yet I hold to propriety: I eat my bread in unbelief. I approve of all the experimenter's wild procedures. I say what they say about celibacy, money or community property, and my only excuse for not doing their work is the worry of the mind. I have my own business that I know I can do with some success. It would remain unfinished if I left with them, and I don't see in me the strength equal to such an undertaking. My genius loudly bids me stay where I am, even with the degradation of owning bank shares and seeing the poor suffer, while the Universal Genius informs me of this disgrace and summons me to the office of martyr and Redeemer.

It is also a belief, this fragility of practice, this attachment to our work. Because obedience to the genius of man isespecialof faith: soon I will reachuniversalof faith.

I take the Law of Education like this,O Intellect to look after moral obedience.(Translations by Thomas Taylor.)

Alypius in Iamblichus had the right doctrine about money.


OQueen; O four books(Chinese Classics), translated by Rev. D. Collier, Malacca;Vishnu Sarna;Odeactivate(Persian), translation by Mr. Duncan, Bombay; Squirrel,Prometheus About;martial; Marcus Terentius Varon; Pliny the Elder; Plotinus, Iamblichus, Synesius, Proclus (translations by Thomas Taylor);

William Lorris and Jean de Meung,romano of o Rosa;Dante; Saadi; Erasmus; Calvino; Scaliger; Raleigh; Marlowe;behavior; Giles Fletcher, of Christ To win eu Triumph; Crashaw, Musician eu Nightingale; Antonio To do Madeira; Spinoza; Brz, Gulliver s Trips;Berkeley; Beckford,Vathek;Joseph e Thomas Warton; Beaumarchais; Wieland,O Abderiti;Goethe,Fausto(the second part),William Teacher;Chatterton; William H. Ireland; Thomas Taylor, translationsKratili neoplatonista; O'Connell; Campbell; Ludwig Borne; Bettina von Arnim; Webster; Carlyle,Past eu Gift;Rev. Henry Ware; Reverendo Lyman Beecher; Reverendo Nathaniel Frothingham; Eugene Bernouf; Jorge Borrow,O Zincali;DisraeliVivian Shiva;Theodore Mundt; John Sterling; Nathaniel Hawthorne; velečasni Chandler Robbins; Goodwyn Barmby; Margaret Fuller; Thoreau; William Ellery Channing.

Choice of Span Newspapers: 1869-1876 (sight, professional).














em 1869

(From NY and ML magazines)

[In January, Mr. Emerson seems to have delivered a shorter lecture than usual, going no farther than Cleveland.]

(from New York)

In this proposal recently presented to me by a class, it seems that through reading I was able to show the difference between good poetry and what passes for good; that I may show how much so-called poetry is but eloquence; that I might do justice to Wordsworth's genius, and show its peculiar merits. I would like to call attention to Arnold's critical superiority, his excellent ear for style, and the unique poverty of his poetry, that he really wrote only one poem, "Tyrsis," and inspired by Milton. The subject would be that Welsh genius (Arnold was also attracted to him) that I recognized today reading this new translator, Skene, and that I find, as before, much more suggestive, more contagious or, shall I say, more inoculating the reader with poetic madness, but any poet I can think of right now except Hafiz. I can easily believe that this is my idiosyncrasy, and to describe it more accurately I will add that I consider them to be unequal, butof As typein genius and influence in Zoroastrian phrases and in those ofBhagavat GeetaeuVishnu Purana.

There is always an elevation of land that, when walking for leisure or business, society seeks as a natural center or point of view; and there is in every book, whether a poem or a history, or a treatise on philosophy, a height which attracts more than other parts, and which is better remembered. So inSmrt d'Arthur,I remember nothing so well as Merlin's cry from his invisible, unreachable prison. Truth be told, different readers pick different spots according to natural affinities. In the proposed lecture, it would be my desire to point out such points in the literature, and thus be an "old guide", like Stephen, who shows, after ten years of daily crawling through underground holes, the best wonders of Mammoth Cave. .

Byron's complaint was not repeated, nor was the wonderful romance that came from Scott to young America. Tennyson has a finer and more delicate beauty and variety, but has not men like others. Tennyson has perfect English culture and melancholy.

Homer has the prerogative never to reveal in the Iliad that he favors the Greeks over the Trojans.

It was good to compare Abu Bakr's hospitality inTake it outwith that of Admetus in EuripidesAlcestidaThat of the Arabs is both noble and humane; that of the king in the play is exaggerated to the point of absurdity.

I said above that the tone, not the lyrics, marks the true song. Wolfe's "Not a drum was heard, not a dirge" is an example, as are Sterling's "Dædalus" and Scott's "Dinas Emlinn", and Scott always has that credit; and Byron's Bajalica in "Manfred", and the whole [poem] delights, despite its superficiality, with that unity; and "Melancholy" by Beaumont and Fletcher. I think the fault of the French, their notorious inability to poetic power, is the complete lack of that music, which all their brilliant talent cannot satisfy. Voltaire could see both the whole and the parts, and his testimony to the lack of French poetry is clear."EU o ROI you tive dano,"etc., has the right tone, and that little song is still their best song. Many songs owe their fame to their tone and others to their meaning.

But Victor Hugo has a geniusO sower,and that I saved. And, I must repeat, this genial thought is the source of every true poem. I have heard that this unity permeates Beethoven's great musical works. And why, but why does the tone give unity?

In matters of religion, people fix their eyes anxiously on the differences between their religion and yours; while the charm of the study lies in finding agreement and identity in all the religions of men.

Some firm and sincere people, whom each of us knows, recommend the country and the planet to us. This is not a bad world, as long as I know it's John M. Forbes or William H. Forbes and Judge Hoar, and Agassiz, and my three sons, and twenty other bright creatures whose faces I see shimmering through the mist, walking in it. . Is it America's thirty million or is it its ten or twelve units that challenge your heart day by day?

For immortality, I would say that it can be seen at least as much, and perhaps even better, from a small angle than from a large angle. I think that in a calm and clear state of mind we have no fears, not even prayers; feel that everything is fine. We arrive at a pleasure so pure that it implies and confirms its perfect harmony with the nature of things, so that it alone appears permanent, and all mixed or inferior states, accidental and temporary.

The leaders of public conventions, political and otherwise, well understand that they must light the fire with ready-made popular speakers, like Wilson, Russell, and Swift, who will crackle and burn, and then may dare to pile up the sluggish anthracite of argumentative judges and political economists; first kindling, then charcoal.

Shakespeare.I think, with all due respect to Aubrey, Dyce, Delia Bacon and Judge Holmes, that we will finally eliminate the true biography, not by discovering contemporary documents, but by a more astute reading of the book itself. by Shakespeare.

[1. March Mr. Emerson read before the Woman's Club the story of her aunt, Mary Moody Emerson, with some extracts from her letters and diaries. (To seeSpeeches eu Biographical Sketches.)”]

Montaigne says that “It seems that Socrates' virtue was always ready to perform its actions, but it did them naturally and gracefully. 'T was a virtue better born than other men."

On my visit to New York I saw a remarkable person who was new to me, Richard Hunt, an architect. His lecture was more witty than any I could easily recall, laden with substance and delivered with the ferocity and fury of a member of the Harvard Boat or Ball Club recounting the adventures of one of his games; inspired, however, over time, by beautiful theories about the possibilities of art. However, the tone of his voice and the accent of his conversation reminded me so much of my rural neighbor Sam Staples that they contrasted absurdly with the Egyptian and Greek grandeur he hinted at or portrayed. I could only think of the immense advantage a thinking soul has when mounted on a strong-willed and lively horse. The combination of the courage and resilience of the Irish worker and the experience and cultivation of Winckelmann is so rare that it fills you with immense hope for great results when found in New York today.

[Sir. Emerson's friend, James T. Fields, the brilliant editor and writer, and his son-in-law, Colonel William H. Forbes, did him a friendly service, and arranged for him a "Lecture," to which he read, at Chickering. Hall. , on ten Saturday afternoons in spring, your favorite works in prose or verse, with a brief introduction. Among the subjects were Chivalry (excerpts from the Ancient Chronicles); Chaucer; Shakespeare; Ben Jonson and Lord Bacon; Herrick; Owner; Herbert; Vaughan; Wonder; Milton; Johnson; doublet; Burke; Cowper; Wordsworth.

The class enjoyed these readings very much, but in this wealth of material and the limitations of an hour, many things Mr. Emerson wished to read were not included, as will be seen in the entry below, which, however, tells of many that were.]

(Do ML)

March21 of 1869.

readings already scorching Hall.The tenth reading at Chickering Hall was completed yesterday. In these ten Sabbaths, many good things were read, and some important passages that were selected were not read. Read nothing about Byron except the lines: "I intertwine my hopes to be remembered," etc., from "Childe Harold"; nothing by Sterling but "Alfred Harper"; nothing from Wordsworth but "Hevellyn",

"Dion" and lines from "Ode"; no Coleridge, prose or verse. From Scott I read Abbot and BruceThe master of o"Hevellin"; "Do not look when beauty is enchanting." Don't read anything by Blake except "The Pursuit". From Grey, nothing. From Campbell, nothing. De Clough, Thoreau, Channing, Brownell, Mellen, Longfellow, Arnold, Willis, Sprague, nothing. From Moore, nothing.

I intended to read a few pages on the art of writing, language, compression, etc.; but with the exception of a page or two inoTO DOSeivov,left them out. Few critical reviews were made. wanted to show someinspired proseby Charles K. Newcomb, Sampson Reed, Mary Moody Emerson, etc., but did not.

I wanted to have an ethical and an oriental reading: but they didn't come. Nothing by Goethe except the "Song of the Fates" inIphigeniaNothing by Horatio Greenough. I have not read the praise suggested by Watts, Barbauld, or Sir Thomas Browne. I intended to read Montaigne, "Friendship", "Socrates", but I didn't. by Goethe,West -Oriental Diva.of Coleridge,To lie down Literary biography, Amigo.of PlutarchMoral;Synesium; Plotinus. By James Hogg read only "Kilmeny"; wanted to read "The Witch of Fife". By Samuel Ferguson, "The Forging of the Anchor" should have been read; by Frederic H. Hedge, a must-readlines you o Disk;i de Brownella, “The Old Cove”; i od Ellen Hooper, "Sweep Ho!"

What selections from Plato I could read! for example, and the beginning and the endPhadon,and naive peopleSorry.Carlyle's portrait of Webster in a letter to me. Berthollet's story and examples of bravery; Fra Cristoforo, in!promised Just married.And in American Poets, remember Sarah Palfrey's "Sir Pavon" and Helen Hunt's "The Thought." Eugène Fromentin on Arab hospitality; Lord Carnarvon's Speech in the House of Lords on the Impeachment of the Earl of Danby; Faryabi, in D'Herbelot; the Cid's performance of his sons-in-law before the Cortes; Romeo, in Cary; "The Young Scholar" by Lord Bacon,

"Ships of Time", Speech to Essex; Earl of Devonshire, from Coleridge's "Puritan Soldier";To lie down Sermons;The story of Marvel's rejection of the royal prize. Gibbon's Conception and CompletionHistory.Hobbes' definition of laughter (unread); Hobbes' Barbarian Society (unread); Peroration by John Quincy Adams; behmen,Life of Cristo.Milton, Prose and Poetry. Charles K. Newcomb, of Swedenborg and Brook Farm; dr. Johnson, “Iona”; Hindu books; Cavalry, Lord Herbert; Chief Justice Crewe; Merlin insideSmrt d'Arthur;the testimony of the lion; "Celinda"; Cid; Roland's Hornsong of Rolando;Voltaire on French poetry; NiebuhrovTo view of Poetry;Creation of new characters; Pepys Shakespeare and Clarendon Notices.

Poetry.“Dædalus”, unread; Wordsworth, "The intellectual power of the word for the thing continued to sound, in an obscure and dangerous way"; "Russian snow" is not read; Beaumont and Fletcher, "Melancholy",

“Lines inOne honest, virtuous of manKaratach speech inBonduca,Scene I; Gray and Collins—inimitable skill in perfectly modern verse; digested his classics. Two songs by Jones Very, "The Strangers" and "Barberry Bush", with notes by Jones Very. William Blake's "Chase" and Allingham's "Touchstone"; Clough; "Herb Rosemary" by Henry Kirke White; “Rose” by Waller and “Round my own lovely Rose” by Bayly and “Nightingale” by Mrs. Hemans; Hogg's "The Witch of Fife"; Tennyson's "Memory"; Byron's “Shipwreck” and “Out upon Time”; Bryant's "Waterfowl"

a couppoetry, Everett; Cutting or cutting of precious stones; eloquent; Biblical; Sculptural, M. Angelo;according to ofDaniel Webster. —

O Mountain

It seemed, though the soft glow bewitches everything,

Cheerful rough cliff and sad well,

As if in such strict and hauta ways

A more appropriate winter storm was descending.

et called et that's it called Deus Will be presentCalled or not called, God will be there.

Who was the king whom the sophist wanted to teach the art of memory and who replied that he would give him a greater reward if he taught him to forget?

There are no more irreconcilable people who get bored and confused in a room than nature sometimes really puts them in a man's shoes.

Memory.Sometimes it happens that the memory has its own personality and voluntarily or rejects its informationdeleyes, but not with me. I wonder if it is not an old aunt who comes in and out of the house, and occasionally tells anecdotes about old times and people, which I recognize as having heard them before - and when she is gone again, I search in vain for a trace of the anecdote. ?


Alcott came and spoke of Plato and Socrates, praising them seriously. I held on for a long time, and then I said, it's a song for others, not for him. We need to find what was equivalent to these masters in our time; because surely the world has always been the same as itself, and it was up to us to find out what was our counterweight and compensation. Was it natural science? Was it a vast dilution of the same amount of thinking in nations? I told him to close his eyes and let his thoughts go into a daydream or something - and then drop the observation. He would find that the current flows from the man out, not into the man. Consciousness was upstream.

Bunsen's countenance, as I remember him in London, did not suggest a nobleman, but an ordinary German scholar, with marked sentimentality, or, as we are wont to say,snort;and these prayers, and the violent monastic utterances which he evades in his correspondence and diary, betray this temper. However, he had talent and generosity and seems to have been very useful.

On May 5, Philip Physick Randolph, son of the late Jacob Randolph, MD, died.

[17. that Mr. Emerson read an article on religion at the home of Reverend J.T. Sergeant; and on May 28 he spoke at the second annual assembly of the Free Religious Community.]

God has given us infinite time; but how did he do it? In a vast swath of the lazy millennium? No, but He carved it out in an orderly succession of new mornings, and with each one, therefore, a new idea, new inventions, and new applications.

"The door to sexual intercourse is closed between those who are limited and those who are not limited by space," says Ali Ilahi An. — DABISTAN.

Religions are the entertainment of the intellect.


Yesterday, Saturday, June 12, the Merit and Discipline Scale Committee met at Dr. Walker's in Cambridge. Gifts, Dr. Walker, Professor Runkle, Theodore Lyman and Rev. I. Mr. Vai was the only one absent. dr. Walker gave some details on how the scale was compiled and stated that the College was very satisfied with it and did not want any changes. He added that there is a question and an inconvenience regarding elective studies. It is of great importance to the poor that they are in position enough to receive a stipend, that is, an income; and when optional studies are proposed, they do not choose what they want to study, but what will give them the most points, i.e. the highest rating. Idle boys, it was said, would choose botany or some other study that didn't require too much thought and attention, and it wasn't fair that they should get as high marks for idle reading as those who chose more difficult studies like trigonometry. or metaphysics, or advanced studies in Greek. Mr. Lyman said that the state of studies at the time was much better than he remembered when he was in college and alluded to young Hill's success on the exam.

Some of the teachers, like Mr. Lowell and Mr. Peirce, Sr., do not keep a daily record of the merits of the pupils, but make a general average, each in his own way. It was suggested that while every teacher should keep a daily record of the quality of recitation, he should by no means show it in his final report, but should correct it through his increasing knowledge of the depth of the student's actual merit. , as shown to him by his skill and power, or dud, which became known from time to time in decisive throws.

(Video) "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" - Gordon Lightfoot (HD w/ Lyrics)

The necessary result of the existing system is the mixing of the record of conduct with that of scholarship, and therefore the degradation of a good scholar, if by neglecting prayers or recitations he incurs a "public admonition" or the promotion of a dull scholar if he has been punctual and irreproachable in conduct.

President Hosmer of Antioch College told me they don't take merit there; and that for discipline they organize the students in the Dormitory into a Society to observe and resist all violations of order. The students have a President and other officers, and when a disturbance occurs they investigate and vote, perhaps, to recommend expulsion of the offender - which the College Government then considers and decides.

These days, friends at Harvard are more or less obsessed with the idea of ​​making it a men's university instead of a boys' college.

One would think that this better moral record should only serve to cast the deciding vote in favor of good conduct where the stock exchange scores were equal.

I think anyone who has had any experience sorting through a series of recitations has discovered how poor their 6, 7, and 8 are. Your first attempt will be useless except in extreme numbers, and it can only be approximately reliable after a large number of days.


Judge Hoar, in his speech last night at the Cambridge Alumni Night, was a perfect example of Coleridge's definition of genius, "conveying the feeling of youth into the vigor of manhood"; and the audience was impressed and delighted with the rare combination of the boy's innocence and the hero's skill.

(From loose sheets of uncertain date)

CarlosClean, serene, a man of great heart, noble of person, incorruptible in life, friend of the poor, champion of the oppressed. Of course, Congress must attract from all parts of the country swarms of selfish individuals, greedy only for private interests who cannot love its strict justice. But if they did not give him a high job, he made a low job a high dignity of honesty and truth. But men cannot last long without skill and perseverance, and he rose, step by step, to the mastery of all the tasks entrusted to him, with the help of those lights and elevations with which the Spirit that creates the Universe rewards the effort and the courageous truth. . He became learned and apt for the highest questions, and the counselor of all correcting ancient errors and all noble reforms. How nobly he behaved in disastrous times! Every reform he led or helped. In the shock of war, his patriotism never failed.

A man of varied learning and achievement. He held that every man should be judged according to the horizon of his mind and defined fame as the shadow of excellence, but that which follows it, not that which it pursues. A tragic figure, like Algernon Sydney; a man of conscience and courage, but without humour. Fear did not exist for him.

Sumner collected his works. They will be the history of the Republic over the last twenty-five years, told by a valiant man, perfectly honest and well educated, with a social culture and an attitude towards all dignitaries. Industrious and capable worker, without humor, but with persistent study by reading, excellent memory, high sense of honor, he despises any bribe, any indulgence and is incapable of lying. His unique strengths of person, manner, and statesmanship impress everyone. He has the fault of most public men, a selfishness that seems almost inevitable in Washington. I once sat in his room in Washington while he wrote a series of weary letters - he wrote without pause as fast as if he were copying. He tops all his peers in historic conversations and is so public in his views that he cannot be trusted to pressure a candidate for office, which is why he is unpopular with politicians. But wherever I meet a dear lover of the country and its moral interests, he is sure to support Sumner.

It is a characteristic of a man to me to hate Charles Sumner: because it shows that he cannot distinguish weakness from vice. Sumner's moral instinct and character are so singularly pure that he must have an unfailing appeal to honest men; his skill and energy of work are such that every good friend of the Republic should support him. Those who approach him and are offended by his selfishness, or his failure (if they will) to use classical quotations, or other bad taste, easily forgive these whims, if they are good themselves; or increase them in disgust, if they themselves are not capable of their virtue. And when he read a lecture on Lafayette one night in Concord, we thought that of all Americans he had the greatest right, because of his own character and wealth, to read that eulogy.

Every Pericles must have his Creon; Sumner had his opponents, his wasps and detractors. We almost wish he hadn't stopped to answer them. But he deigned to give them truth and patriotism, without asking whether they knew how to appreciate instruction or not.

A man of such truth that it can really be described: he does not need excessive praise.

Not a man of extraordinary genius, but a man of great heart, of eternal youth, incapable of any mistake, small or great; loving your friend and loving your country, with perfect constancy in your purpose, avoiding any work your object required; and his works vindicated him by their scope and thoroughness.

He had good teachers, who soon realized they had a good scholar. He studied law under Judge Story, who was at the head of the Faculty of Law at Harvard University, and who quickly discovered the value of his student, and invited him to assist him in the Faculty of Law.

He had a great talent for the job and spared no time or research to become a master of his subject. His treatment of all questions was faithful and exhaustive, and always marked by noble sentiments.

(from New York)


This morning I sent my six volumes of prose, revised and corrected, to Fields and Company for their new edition in two volumes.

Landor says: “No man of genius ever appeared in the whole area of ​​Austria, several thousand times the size of our city (Florence); and this very street gave birth to fifty of them."—volume i, p. 191.

"Annibal Caracci said to his scholar,What vas he does that's it to understand, vas mora— THE GEOGRAPHER.

At Walden the other day, with George Bradford, I was impressed, as I always am, with the expression of refinement which nature is wont to wear in such places; — the bright sun reflected in the pleasant shapes of the water, shore and forest, the tranquil sound of splashing water.

I suppose I behave very badly in my club when I always, if I can, secure a place for a dear friend, and although I suppose (although I have never heard of it) that I offend that choice, sometimes very visibly, my reason is that I, who I rarely see, in ordinary and select society, I must make the most of this opportunity, having, at the same time, the feeling that

"I could be happy with anyone,

Was the other lovely darling absent?

I am interested not only in my advantages, but also in my disadvantages, that is, in my own wealth; that is, watching my destiny, to see, after each of my actions, what is the result. Is it prosperous? Is it unfavorable? And so I find the pure amusement of the intellect, both in what is called good and what is bad.

In Xenophon's work, Critobulus says: "I swear by all the gods, I would not choose the power of a Persian king over beauty."

Washington Grau.I notice that those who have been drinking Potomac water for some time lose their taste for Charles, Merrimack, and Connecticut water. But I think public health demands that the Potomac water be corrected by plentiful infusions from these provincial streams. Rockwood Hoar still likes Musketaquid.

Sumner quotes Cato as saying "that kings were carnivorous animals".

Looking at HesiodIt works euI remember how much damage our clocks and almanacs do to us by diverting our attention from the stars, the annual winds and rains, the habits of animals, and all the primary observations of nature on which ancient people relied. Their year was all religious and imaginative.

"Sit in the shade and drink dark wine with her - first pour three cups of water, then add a quarter of wine." — HESIOD.

"You, Perses, flattered the venal judges a lot. Fools, they don't know how much the half is greater than the whole, nor the advantage of marshmallows and asphodels." — Bohn's HESIOD, p. 76.

"The stripped sow, plowing and reaping, if you wish to collect Ceres' labors." —Idem, page 95.

The same periodicity - so to speak - rules in the fable, and brings the wildest curve to true morality, as it does in electricity, gravity, and the crystal. And this is also expressed in tone and rhythm.

[On September 14, the Natural History Society of Boston celebrated the 100th anniversary of the birth of Alexander von Humboldt. Mr. Emerson was invited to speak, and a summary of his remarks was printed in theSeveral.Some additional phrases are given below.]


Humboldt is one of those wonders of the world like Aristotle, like Crichton, like Newton, who appear here and there as if to show us possibilitieshaste Homoeye powers, a range of abilities; whose eyes are Nature's telescopes and microscopes, and whose faculties are so symmetrically united that they have a constant presence of mind and can read Nature by the instantaneous union of their insight and instantaneous observation; while men are generally taken aback by a new object and do not immediately apply their knowledge to it. Other people have memories they can steal, but Humboldt's memory was wide awake to help him watch. Our faculties are a committee slowly, one by one, giving their attention and opinion, — but his, all connected by an electric current,... You couldn't miss him. He was a man of the world if ever there was one. You couldn't miss it; you couldn't keep it; you could not disappoint him. The backward Spaniards had been preparing his expedition for months, and he had waited a year; but Spain or Africa or Asia were harvest fields for this armed eye, this lynceus who could see across the land and across the ocean, who knew how the mountains were built and the seas dried...

Never has Agassiz appeared with such a head start as in his biographical speech on Humboldt yesterday at the Music Hall in Boston. Unusually for him, he read a written speech, about two hours long; and yet all this strongly, there is no exaggeration, not a soft spot, no rhetoric, no falsetto; - his personal recollections and anecdotes of their relations, simple, sincere and tender in tone of voice, without the error of egotism or self-assertion, and far enough from French sentimentality. He is as good a man as his hero, and I fear he will not be imitated. I admire his masculinity, his equality always for the occasion, for any company - he is never a fool, his manners can never be separated from himself.

I could never go beyond five steps in my enumeration of intellectual powers; say, Instinct, Perception, Memory, Imagination (including Fantasy as a subordinate), Reasoning or Understanding. Some of the lower sections like Genius, Talent, Logic, Wit and Humor, Pathos can be dealt with more easily.

A person who commands a servant successfully is one who does not think about the way, he only thinks that it must be done. The order is constitutional.


Today I took Fields and Company a copy of the first four chapters of my so-called new book,Society eu Loneliness.

I read a lot of experimental poetry in new books. The author said to himself:he knows all It is It could I pray, eu become known? Yes I am that's it Goethe to experiment? it works that's it It is ler As oBut good poetry is not written that way, it first enchanted the poet; he said and wrote with joy, and for the same reason it also benefits the reader.


I wish I could recall my singular dream of last night with its physics, metaphysics and rapid transformations - all so impressive at the moment, that waking at midnight I tried to rehearse them, so that I could retain them till morning. I'm afraid it's all over. I noticed how we magnify and stress the inner world to the point of hypocrisy with contempt for home and country and the human condition, which we call mean and bestial. But within minutes they take their revenge, for we look at their chemistry and see that miracles are combinations of ethereal elements, and immediately point to moral causes.

General Wayne was the government commissioner who first saw the importance of the corner of land at the foot of Lake Michigan, around which the northwest road must pass, and managed to define the Illinois boundary line to include this swamp. . , called Chicago, inside it.

Aunt Mary maintained her unusual attitude towards good company. It appealed strongly to her as a theater considered a genius, but she loathed its eccentricities and was too proud and impulsive to sit back and conform. She therefore consented and made no attempt to remain quiet, and knew this only from the stories of a few friends, such as Mrs. George Lee, Mrs. Mary Schalkwic, Miss. and that because of her temper she tolerated or forgave his oddities. But sympathy and delight at his existence shows daily through all her denials and fine disdain.

Bom written.Each script must be a check to discard all dead words. Why don't you save from your speech or thought only the vital things, - wittycontrathat amused or warmed you when you uttered it - because of its cheerfulness and novelty? I have just read, in this careful book by a very intelligent and learned man, countless simple and conventional words and phrases. If a man would learn to read strictly his own handwriting - by really becoming a third person and looking only for what interests him, he would erase the intention - and how every page would be a gain! Then every word will be happy, and every sentence will be a surprise.

I'll tell you what it means to be immortal, which is that I can't read Plutarch without being constantly reminded of the men and women I know.

dr. Hedge tells us that an Indian asked John Eliot, "Why didn't God kill the devil?" We would like to know what Eliot's response was.


A scholar not only wants time, butwarm upgood anthracite or charcoal to make the most of every minute of the hour.

"Latent harmony has more value than visible." — HERACLITE.

For Calvinism.There is a certain weakness in the solemn threat to human beings of the Last Judgment revelations, when Mrs. Stowe concludes his appeal to Lady Byron's executioners. An honest man would say, Why refer to it? Everything that is true and weight for me now has full force.

We know people who seem to ignore us and read with a smile, but don't tell us what they're reading. Every now and then we say something to our friends, or hear things from them, that seem to make it impossible for strangers to be strangers again. Especially if someone shows me a stroke of courage, a bit of inventive intelligence, a trait of character, or sheer delight in character when others demonstrate it, I must henceforth be indebted to that man or woman, as one who discovered that I was dying. it was something purer and more incorruptible than the light of those midnight stars. Indeed, the only real benefit we are sensible of is (is it not?) having a man worthy of our own.

"Declare war for a long time." —SIMONIDES.

Weaker memory compensation in age with greater power and means of generalization.

I asked Theodore Lyman on Saturday exactly how Agassiz's health was doing. He said “that no more paralysis appeared and he didn't seem to be in any danger. It was not apoplexy, but a peculiarity of his constitution—those insensible strokes which occurred. It washysteria."I replied that I had often said that Agassiz seemed to have two or three men involved in his personality, but I had never suspected that there was a woman in his composition. Lyman replied that he himself had seen hysteria more often in men than in women.


Zoroaster; Hesiod,It works eu dana;The Simões; Heraclitus; EuripidesAlceste;Xenophon,The banquet;Cato the Elder; Proclus;Arturijanac romance; Dabistan;James ("Admirable") Crichton; Sir Philip Sidney,Life of,by Lord Brooke; De Retz; Aubrey; sparrow,Smrt of alreadyJohnson; Addison,Cato;Voltaire; Winckelmann; Humboldt; vlč. W.E. Channing; Varnhagen von Ense; Haydon; Chevalier Bunsen; Alexander Dyce; Alcott; Victor Hugo,O Sower;Agassiz; Tennyson; Crabbe Robinson,Daily; O To quote Ancestral;Charles Sumner; Harriet Beecher Stowe,shake Byron Justified;Fromentin,EU Summer you o Sarah;W. Ellery Channing,Songs;Matheus Arnaldo,Songs;M. H. Cobb,Out About;O. W. Holmes, ml.

See also the list of authors and poems and passages cited in reading pages 282285.















em 1870

(From NY and ST magazines)

[DURING January, Mr. Emerson was preparing his preface for a new translation by Professor William Watson GoodwinCork Lucas Moral.This, courtesy of the editors, Messrs. Little and Brown, is included in the works(Speeches eu Biographical

(from New York)

February3, 1870.

Last test sheetSociety eu Lonelinessit's coming back to me today for correction.

Mr. Charles P. Ware tells Edward that he spent the night before Cambridge Memorial Day in Mr. Ware's room. Hudson in Cambridge, and woke from a dream he could not remember, repeating these words:

EU what they to challenge to do san of, to challenge to do to die for.

He went to the Pavilion dinner and there heard Mr. Lowell read his poem, and when he got to the lines:-

"Those who love her most are those who are honest with themselves and what" -

Ware said, "Now I know what's next – but it won't rhyme;" and Mr. Lowell continued:

"they dare to dream, they dare to do."

[There is no mention of lectures until the spring, except before the lyceums in neighboring towns, and one in Philadelphia, on the 7th of February, an excursion which is always pleasant, for there Mr. Emerson met his old schoolmates from his childhood in Boston, the Rev. William H. Furness and Mr. Samuel Bradford.]


Bettina, in VarnhagenDaily,she always reminds me of Aunt Mary, although the former always uses lies, which the latter detests. But dwelling with sadness and genius on their faults and culprits, enraging the offender with common reproaches, puts the parties in the worst of relations, and finally disables the complaining woman from seeing what degree of propriety or need there is on the part. . her offender, and what good reason has he to complain of her wrath and insults.

This growing injured party bias has all the malignity of lying.


At the Club yesterday, Lowell, Longfellow, Cabot, Brimmer, Appleton, Hunt, James, Forbes, Fields. Erastus Bigelow was a guest.

How dangerous is criticism. My brilliant friend sees no healthy strength in Thoreau's thinking. At first I doubt, of course, that he is looking out for me, that I admire Thoreau's power. But when I find again the good insights into Thoreau's works, I see that there is a flaw in his criticism that they are to be underestimated. Thoreau writes, in hisCampo Grades,"I look back to the age of this creation, not at night, but at dawn for which no one ever awoke early enough." A good example of his affirmative genius.


My new book seems to be selling faster than any of my previous books. That's not a credit, it just goes to show that age is a good advertisement. His name has been seen so many times that his book is worth buying.

I hate the protection of trade in our policy, and I am now reminded of what Stillman said about the Greek war - that the English opposition to independence from Greece was only for fear of depriving them of eastern trade.

Rare is the gentleman, English, French or American; I think I remember everyone I've ever seen.


Musagetes.After the social circle broke up last night and only two were left with me, one said the cigar was fine. If you found yourself in a hotel with writing - a freshly lit fire in a cold room - it was difficult to get started; but light up a cigar and you're instantly comfortable and ready to work. Sir.

Simon Brown then said that he had never smoked, but as an editor (Novi Englandhe wrote a lot and often found himself picking up a little stick and twirling it around and in a short time harmonized and tempered by that Yankee method.

Alvah Crocker has given me in the carriages a history of his activity in connection with the Fitchburg Railroad, beginning, I think, with 1837. He authored the road. He was a papermaker, and could not get papermaking material for less than eight cents a pound, while in Boston and elsewhere it could be obtained for two, three, and four cents. He must find a way to bring Fitchburg closer to Boston. He knew the country around him and studied the possibilities of each relationship. He found he had to study the closest viable paths to high tide. No one but him believed in rivers; The Nashua River.

After a thorough study of the Hoosac Mountains, he decided that the mountain should be drilled. He met Loammi Baldwin, who was the best engineer in the state. He couldn't reach that busy man. He knew that his own mother's dearest friend was the lady who was now Mr. Baldwin. He went to her and told her who she was, and that he wanted more than anything to see Mr. Baldwin. The lady said, “I loved your mother very much, but I don't know anything about you; but for her sake I will make you see. Come here, say, next Sunday after dinner, around 3 o'clock - that's the right time, and I'll arrange for Mr. Baldwin answer all his questions. He did that.

San.Waking up from a stunning dream is an unusual example of the jealousy of the gods. There is an impression as if the sender of the illusion is momentarily unaware that Reason has returned to its place and has drawn attention. At the same time, there is a rush on one side to break the drama into a chaos of parts, then particles, then ether, like smoke dissolving in the wind; it cannot be decomposed fast enough or fine enough. If you could give the watcher the smallest fragment, he could reconstruct the whole; now he is sure that he can and will; but his attention is so divided on the disappearing parts that he cannot fathom the smallest atom, and the last fragment or film disappears before he can say, "I have it."

a lira, That's it fair eu exchange of sati boredom what? already mora ter you already to fight, contra of sati delicious."— MONTESQUIEU,He thinks.


In "Clubs" I should have said that each of the men is a treasure trove of precious experience - and yet the man is often shy and bullied into stupidity by society - he needs to be wooed, relaxed, made to laugh or cry and so on. finally get yournaturalconfessions and their best experience.

O blind Aragovo "Scorching age Leste Also out of common what e of M. of Humboldt, she Leste until -more fireplace."— VARN-HAGEN, volume x, p. 100.

I should have Arago among my heroes in the "Old Age", and Humboldt and Agesilaus.


On the 31st I received a letter from President Eliot confirming the acceptance of Carlyle's bequest of the Cromwellian and Friedrich books by the Corporation of Harvard College, and the Vote of the Corporation appended. I wrote to Carlyle the same day enclosing the President's letter to me and his voting record, and sent it to him yesterday morning.

because eternity has smiled on me."

Varnhagen says: "Goethe once said to me: 'How can a narrative always be right? Things themselves are not always right' and Varnhagen adds: microscopic history is no better than that seen with the natural, unarmed eye; — not the correction of small things now invisible, but the rough impression is the main thing." — VARNHAGEN, volume x, p. 174.

In Wiesbaden, an Englishman, being approached by another guest at the table, called the waiter and said in a loud voice: "Waiter, tell this gentleman that I will not speak to him." This delighted Varnhagen, and he adds: “Worthy of imitation. Nothing more disgusting thanmesa from the hostconversation."

1 For an account of Carlyle's generous donation to the college, seeCarlyle-Emerson Correspondence.

General Charles Russell Lowell's widow (sister of Colonel Robert G. Shaw) visited Carlyle with a letter from Mr. Emerson, talked openly with him about our war, and sent himHarvard Monument Biographiesto enlighten you about the cause and its heroes.

Musagetes.Goethe's fly. Don't read in your official professional direction too firmly - less and less, but where you find excitement, wake up, as all surfaces are equally close to the center. Everyone has their own experience, but I find the contrasts the most suggestive.

[Under the new and more liberal dispensation of President Eliot's administration, "College Lecture" courses were instituted, and Mr. Emerson was invited to teach a sixteen-year course in the Philosophy Department in April and May. They were: - I, Introduction, Praise of knowledge; II, Transcendence of Physics; III and IV, Perception; V and VI, Memory; VII, Imagination; VIII, Inspiration; IX, Genius; X, Common Sense; XI, Identity; XII, XIII, Meters of the Mind; XIV, Platonists; XV, Conduct of the intellect; XVI, Relation between intellect and morals.]

Identity. Bias.The best identity is practical, as in the sheer satisfaction we feel when we discover that we have long said, written, or done something completely true and appropriate for ourselves.

Steffens says he went to Schelling's classroom in Jena (?). Schelling said, "Gentlemen, think of the wall." The whole class suddenly took positions of opinion; some froze; some closed their eyes; all concentrated. After a while he said: "Gentlemen, think about what the wall imagined." Then trouble arose throughout the camp.

The scholar who painstakingly abstracts himself to analyze Hegel is less enriched than when the beauty and depth of any passing thought takes possession of his mind and leads him to new thoughts and actions; for this is healthy and these thoughts enlighten the mind. He is aware of the walls, and also of the open path leading out and up, while the other analytic process is cold and dreary, and so to speak? — rather petty, like espionage.

The delicate character traits of Aunt Mary, Rahel, Margaret Fuller, Sarah A. Ripley need good metaphysics, better than Hegel's, to read and delineate.

There is another reason for dressing nicely than I've already considered, namely, that dogs respect you and don't attack you with nice clothes.

The strength of his moral convictions is the charm of Fichte's character.

Autograph words.Wise was that Turkish caddy who said, "O my friend, my liver, the questioner is one and the answer is another."

I consider Plutarch a richer teacher of rhetoric than any modern man.

Plutarch quotes, as a true judgment, this: "That this polite, gentle, benign disposition and behavior is not so agreeable, so useful, and dear to any of those with whom they converse as to those who have it." — Plutarch, volume i, p. 59.

Star dob.Here is a good text by Montesquieu:old WHO e T studied you from them youth I don't have to need what of s et that's it learn. E Leste BOM feliz."— str. 232.


I consider Philip Randolph almost, if not quite, on the level of one or two of my Olympian friends in his perception - as shown in his manuscript, which I read. He repeatedly made that impression on me in our interviews while he was alive and in his promised work.Norte americano Analysis.But in these works on science, philosophy, poetry, painting and music, the supremacy of his faith shines through.

How I rejoice that this pure spiritualist was the best chess player in Philadelphia and, as Evan Randolph tells me, beat the best players in Paris!

Plutarch rightly relates the anecdote of Alexander (misremembered and usually mistranslated) that he wept when he heard from Anaxarchus that there were an infinite number of worlds; and his friends inquiring if any misfortune had befallen him, he replied, "Do you not think it a matter of my regret, that when there are a multitude of them, I have not yet conquered any of them?" — Plutarch, volume i, P-134-

If I were a professor of rhetoric, I would encourage my class to read Plutarch.Moralin English, and Cotton's Montaigne for its English style.

We feel that we are doing our country a great service by publishing this book, if by doing so we oblige our public men to read the "Apothegms of the Great Commanders" before making their speeches in clubs and conventions. If I could keep the secret and communicate it to just one or two chosen young people, I would know that they would easily beat all competitors for this noble infiltration. But as it was the desire of these ancient patriots to fill Rome or Sparta with this magnificent spirit, and not just a few leaders, we wish to offer it to the American people.

The reason for a new philosophy or a new philosopher is whenever the thinking man finds that he cannot read in the old books. I cannot read Hegel or Schelling, or be interested in what they tell me, so I persist in my idle, leisurely way, write my thoughts, and soon find that there are people close to me who love them, so I persist, until some outline or system grow. It is common: always a new prejudice. It happened to every one of them, Heraclitus, or Hegel, or whoever.


I cannot help recoiling when Plutarch tells me that "the Athenians had such an aversion to those who accused Socrates that they did not give them fire, nor did they answer any questions, nor did they wash with them in the same water, but ordered their servants to pour it out as polluted, until these sycophants, unable to withstand the pressure of this hatred, end their own lives." — PLUTARCH,Moral,vol. II, p. 96.

I thinkNovi Biography In generalan eternal benefactor - almost sure to answer all queries quickly and well. Long live M. le Docteur Hoefer! Now he answered fully about Plutarch, Suetonius, Amyot, but I didn't dare believe he knew Dr. Philemon Holland, - but he immediately cheerfully answered for him; and even gives an epigram about it:-

"Philemon with translations will fill us like this

He cannot allow Suetonius to be Quiet.


Here on Nantasket beach, with Ellen, I marvel that so few men penetrate what seems to be the innkeeper's secret. He enjoys the beach, and finds that by buying a few well-chosen acres by the sea, which cost no more or less than good land elsewhere, and building a good house, he turns over to nature the whole duty. of filling it with guests, the sun, the moon, the stars, the rainbow, the sea, the islands, the whole horizon - seen elsewhere, the ships of all nations. All of these (and all the non-paid ones) take full responsibility for entertaining their guests, filling and delighting their senses with shows; and it was too long to tell in detail about the attractions they offer. Here everything is picturesque: the extensive beach is renewed every day with pleasant and magical shows, with a variety of colors, with the varied music of the water that rises and falls, with an infinity of fish, birds and people who hunt them; with the strange forms of radiation that spread across the beach; with shells; with a wonderful variety of sea pebbles, - from quartz, porphyry, syenite, clay and limestone. A man buys a few acres, but has all the good and glory of a hundred square miles, by shrewd choice of site; for the storm is one of his great entertainers; so it is with the sun, moon, and all the stars of heaven, for those who see them here, in all their beauty, and in the large space or amphitheater they require for their proper display, feel that they have never been properly seen before.

The men and women who come to the house, then huddle or scatter in groups along the wide beach, or on yachts, or boats, or in carriages, or as bathers, have never before looked so gentle and harmless. In these broad actions, the biggest companies don't put pressure on each other. To help him, even poor Indians from Maine and Canada crawled to the outskirts of the hotel to pitch their tents and make baskets, bows and arrows to add to the picturesqueness. Many children decorate the square and courtyard in front with their conversations and games; and in this wide field every individual, from the smallest to the largest, is a harmless and amusing variety. To complete the day, this morning I saw from the deck of our ship leave the bay an English steamer which had recently sailed dangerously out of Minot's Ledge, and this afternoon I saw the turret monitor,Let's go,sails to Boston.

The halls, rooms, and table of the Rockland house were good, but the supreme pleasure of these amenities was this superb view afforded by the wise selection of the site on which the house was built. This choice of location gives this house the same advantage over other houses that an astronomical observatory has over other towers, namely that this particular tower takes you to the skies and plumbs the depths of space before it was impossible.


I fill my house with books that I must read, and wonder whether the new heavens which await the soul (after the fatal hour) will allow them to be consulted.

I pay tribute to the author of "Battle Hymn" and "Zastava". She was born in New York City. I could wish he was from Massachusetts. We had no such poet in New England.


This morning I think no subject is so fit for poetry as home, Massachusetts, or the American home.

I find my Tia Maria readings to be always as mindful and wholesome as ever, and that's because they are a moral inspiration. All the men and women whose talents excite my admiration sometimes lack this depth of source and are therefore comparatively shallow. They entertain, perhaps they are unique; I am proud of them as compatriots and contemporaries; but it's like music or pictures - and other music and pictures would suit me; but they do not find me consoling, edifying, and distracting from sleep. But the moral muse is eternal, and awakens us to eternity, —— permeates the whole man. Socrates is not far away; Sparta is closer than New York; Marco Antoninus is not old; Plotinus and Porphyry, Confucius and Meno had a civilization deeper than Paris or London; and deeply religious men and women within or without our churches are really the salt of our civilization, and form the sinew and strain of our politics in Germany, England, and America. Talented people see the power of the principle and the necessity of its observance, but they deal with its phenomena, not with its source. It is learned and wielded as an achievement and a weapon.

As I already wrote, there is no numberLegalwill help, - just onetea,and that is moral. Power comes in according to the presence of the moral element. This power knows no limits. If there are limits, we haven't found them. It's domesticated. Our friends are not those at home, but those who think and see with us. But it is always wonderful to know where the moral element comes from.

Christian doctrine not only changes individual character, but individual character changes Christian doctrine in Luther, Augustine, Fenelon, Milton. “I read something like that in Lévêque or Antonin.

September 1.

We left with Edward at 7:30 am. by train from Boston to Portland, thence south to Paris, where we took a carriage and arrived at Waterford, the inn of Mr. Houghton, 5:00 p.m. Thence, the following afternoon, to the south of Paris, taken by Mr. Wilkins, and took the train to Gorham, and thence immediately to Glen House, Mount Washington, where we arrived about 9:00 pm. Sunday, September 4th, and Monday, September 5th, at 8 o'clock, went up the mountain in an open carriage; came down by train [funicular] at 3 and arrived at Crawford House. The next morning, 6 September, he left for Whitefield, where he arrived for lunch, and thence by train for Plymouth, where he arrived at 9 pm. The next morning at 5:00 am he left by train and arrived in Boston at 11:30 am, returning home in an hour.

[To complete this somewhat bald itinerary, it can be said that Mr. Emerson, seeing that a course in philosophy (sixteen lectures in a few weeks) was a tax on his strength, betrayed him to go to Maine with a request to show his son the village of Waterford, from which Mr. Emerson fondly remembered times gone by when he used to go there to visit his cousins, the Haskins, and his aunt Mary. His consent was obtained, and on reaching Waterford we climbed Bear Mountain, and from its sheer cliff looked out over the blue lake below. Then he zealously led him to a wide brook whose clear waters, running over ledges and smooth stones, had long delighted him in his memory, and now offered him joy.

We were happy to find at Gorham, where we passed on Sunday, Mr. James Bryce, now famous, who recently brought his letter of instructions to Concord. The next morning he and young Emerson went up the mountain, Mr. Emerson following them onstage from the great heat and humidity below to a bitter cold snowstorm that blew almost dangerously over the summit. We saw nothing but this, we shuddered through dinner, and were glad to go down to Crawford's Notch, where Mr. Emerson had stayed with Ellen Tucker and her family some forty years earlier.

——E. 4.

Much affected by stupor these days:

—— acute attacks whenever a visit is proposed or made.

Montesquieu's prediction came true,"O France s they will lose par O gens of to fight."Pensions.


On Saturday, at the Club; present, Sumner, Longfellow, Lowell, Hoar, James, Brimmer, Fields, Estes Howe, Holmes, R.W.E., and, as guests, Mr. Samuel Hooper and Henry Lee, Ls.


I thought that Chivalry This Afternoon would make a good title for many subjects and a good read to offer to the Fraternity [Course of Lectures] on the 6th of December. George Ticknor, Hallam and Renan (in their work at the Paris Exposition) gave me good texts; Fauriel has others; and the beautiful mythology and poetry of Wales, Brittany, Germany (dthe story of the Nibelungs),and Scott and Joinville and Froissart can add their stores. It could also be called "Imagination", and what we call chivalry is just a rich illustration. Every boy who reads marched to school and on his errands, with a fraction of that magic, and swinging a severed staff to his greatsword, swinging it and directing it at the swarm of aerial enemies his imagination lined up right and left. left.

The subject's life, of course, would be each man's impatience of his limits; inextinguishability of the imagination. We cannot hunker down in our huts or our experience. We have enormous elasticity. Every reader participates with a king, or an angel, or a god, in the novel or poem he reads, not with dwarves and cockneys. That healthy surprise that the sky at dusk gives to the man who goes out into it alone, even after a day of work; or what the unexpectedly seen stars give.

(by ST)


Othe scope of the thought, the observed fact, and therefore the word we use to denote it, constitute its value. Only while it has new values ​​does it warm up and call and make writing possible. This reach or hidden vision seems to be rare in men; — a primitive little difference, but essential to the job. For that owner needs to write: 'It is easy and pleasant for him; the other, not finding continuity, - must begin a new ascent at every step. Plutarch is not a deep man and may not have been personally impressive to his contemporaries; but, having this easy association in his mind—a broad horizon for every fact, maxim, or figure that interested him, each new subject revived every experience or memory of it, and he was moved with joy to begin a new chapter. So there is no such chord in nature for the bassoon of thought as well as action, which meansfags.Plutarch had a dominant moral sense, which, it is true, is common to all men, but in a very different degree, so that in the crowd it appears secondary, as if it were imitated only by distinguished characters, and not by natives. But in Plutarch was his genius. that's clearmoralit is the foundation of genius in Milton, in Burke, in Herbert, in Socrates, in Wordsworth, in Michael Angelo, and, I think, also in many men who are fond of disguising it, or disguising it in the diversity of their powers, - - like Shakespeare and Goethe. Indeed, we shall certainly feel discord and limitation in men of rare talent in whom this feeling does not have its healthy or normal superiority; like Byron, Voltaire, Daniel Webster.

The writer is a researcher. Each step is progress towards a new country.

Memory.The compensation of a weaker memory is - the help of an increased and increasing generalization.

"Old age is not in years, but in directed activity."

Among my mnemonics I noted that I went to France only three hundred years after Montaigne. He was born in 1533; I visited him in 1833.

[During this year, the Harvard University government decided that it should no longer discredit itself by conferring the Master of Arts degree on any graduate who should have lived five years and had five dollars to pay the treasury to receive it. Mr. Emerson was appointed a member of the Harvard faculty committee to prepare a plan for awarding this degree. He was also named a member of the Commission that visited the Academic Department of the University.]


Today at the laying of the cornerstone of the "Memorial Hall" in Cambridge. Everything was well and wisely done. The storm had stopped for us, the company was big - godfathers and godmothers all there - or all a little; - simple and excellent arrangements, and all successful speakers. Henry Lee, with his sense of uniform and bravery, Warden; chaplain, Rev. Phillips Brooks, offered a prayer in which no words were superfluous, and all that was right was said. Henry Rogers, William Gray, Dr. Palfrey, each gave their respective accounts. Luther's hymn, translated by Dr. Hedge, was sung by a great chorus, the cornerstone was laid, and then the Rockwood Hoar read a prayer of perfect sense, taste, and feeling—full of virtue and tenderness. Then the Chorus performed an original song by Wendell Holmes. Every part in all these performances was so moving that people praised them with broken voices, and we all cried with pride. Our Harvard soldiers of war were in their uniforms and heard their own eulogies and tender allusions to their fallen comrades. General Meade was present and "the council adopted him", as Judge Hoar put it, and Governor Claflin sat next to President Eliot. Our English guests, Hughes, Rawlins, Dicey and Bryce, sat back and listened. c I don't insult my contemporaries,” said Cumberland. "After you, madam, in good manners," said Swett. The only thing I regret about the priority of leaving is that I, like everyone else, have a lot of stories that gift etiquette forbids airing and that burn uneasily when not told. I am determined not to kill A. or C. or N.

——but I could tell a story, like Hamlet's father.

Now the private class gives exactly that freedom which was not parliamentary in a book or in a public lecture, and it is clear why here at least he is safe from the unpleasant presence of the press. One more point. In culture I attach great value to foreign literature - the farther the better - more French, Italian, German or Welsh - more Persian or Hindu, because if one reads and writes only in English, one soon slips into the narrow language of conventions and believes that there is no other way to write poetry except like Pope or Milton. But an entirely foreign mind born and bred in another latitude and longitude, —— closer to the pole or the equator, — a child of Mount Hecla, like Sturluson, or of the Sahara, like Averroës, surprises us with a new nature, increases our unhappiness, and we immediately learn that we have faculties we never use.

How correct is Couture's rule of "look three times at the object and once at its design, - look to nature, not to your own whim; and William Hunt's emphasis, after him, on mass, instead of the detail! And how perfectly (as I wrote long ago of Couture) the same rule applies to rhetoric as to writing! Wendell Holmes hits the nail on the head in every tender poem he scribbles, his instinct to obey the just perception of whatIt isimportant enough to feel how he would write a few verses touching on the subject: and this is eminently true in Rockwood Hoar's mind - his tendency towards the totality of things!

What a lesson about culture is learned in everyday dealings with men and women. A rude young man or a maid arrives as a guest at the house and at the table cannot understand half the conversation that goes on - so many allusions to books, anecdotes, people - hints of war songs or fashions. , or the College, or the boatmen, or a Frenchman or 1 In his admirablemethod et to interview d' studio.

A Latin word suggesting a verse or phrase known to the inmates, unknown to the stranger, - so that it is hardly as if the family spoke a different language than the guest. Well, there is an equal difference whether your culture is better, in all its ways, and a similar shorthand for better methods, and only long familiarity, that is, a slow, step-by-step education in your art and knowledge can produce. a hands-on experience. equality. A similar difference must, of course, appear in father, son, grandson, and great-grandson, if each heir is to receive better educational opportunities than his parents enjoyed.

Size."They mock you, O Diogenes!" He replied, "But I'm not being ridiculed." — PLUTARCH,Moral.

All,carta.I need to get a Greek grammar. Oh my old Gloucester again!

passage toI inviteDante testifies that he knew Greek too imperfectly to read Homer in the original. (To seeBiography

Complaint to do Metaphysics.The poet sees the whole but avoids analysis. Ellery Channing told me that she would not know the botanical name of the flower because she feared she would never see the flower again. The metaphysician, who deals, as it were, with the mathematics of the mind, strays from the path of Inspiration, misses what is wonderful and what engenders adoration.

America.Let's get rid of the enormous nonsense of this Republic that disgusts us in European biography. There, the superior mind, Hegel, who honestly and scientifically investigates the laws of thought, is suddenly called upon by the necessity of pleasing some king or conciliating some Catholics, to twist his universal propositions to suit these absurd men, and not to satisfy them. not even these victims of truth and manhood; another great genius, Schelling, was invited, when Hegel died, to come to Berlin and submit the truth to the puppet of king and mob. Not here. The smallness of the population, the vastness of the territory, the isolation of each family and each person, allow some approximation to the result that each citizen has his own religion, — that he has a church for himself, — — and cults and speculates of new and completely independent ways.

Plutarch covers all subjects except art. He has the genius to extract the medicinal power from every poison, to discover the good that can be made of evil.

An admirable passage on Plato's expression "that God geometrizes", in Plutarchsymposium.(See especially in the Old Edition, Volume III, p. 434.)

In the History of Thought, a hint of falsehood shows itself, not first in formal arguments and protests, but in insincerity, indifference, and abandonment of the church, or scientific, political, or economic institution, in other better or worse ways. Then the good minds, sensing or observing this loss, formulate the fact in protest and argument, and propose a correction and a higher form. Rabelais, Voltaire, Heine, are reformers before Huss, Luther, Strauss and Parker, though less serious and for less serious readers.

Voltaireov Spinoza,—suspicious of, in between Mi, what EVA n exist that's it."Satire. O Systems.

Indeed, Latin and Greek still seem to be forced into education, just as wigs must be worn for the sake of fashion, despite the aversion to both. If a wise traveler were to visit England to study the causes of his power, these would not be the universities in which he would find them; but mr. Owen, Sr. Armstrong, Sr. Airy, Mr. Stephenson, Sir John Lubbock, Mr. Huxley, Sr. Scott Russell, Boulton, Watt, Faraday, Tyndall, Darwin. If any of them were students, it's just university luck, not its usual fruit. What these people did, they did not learn there.

"Plato says that time has its origin in intelligence." — Plutarch, volume III, P-158 —

Micrew (and I remember Mr. Tom Lee complaining about Margaret Fuller remembering things); "and the ancients used to dedicate Oblivion, ferule in hand, to Bacchus, thus signifying that we must not remember any wrongdoing done in mirth and company, or that we must apply a gentle and childlike correction of faults." —Idem.

Plutarch loves apples like our Thoreau and praises them well. - You seeMoral,volume III, p. 362.

Let a scholar begin to read something to a few strangers in a parlor, and he may find his voice undisciplined and he reads poorly. Let him go to a meeting of intelligent people in a public hall, so that his voice will carry well and he will be a different and satisfied person.

A scholar forgives everything to the one whose error gives him a new vision, a new fact.

Petar Oliver, dpuritanaco Community,he insists as an advocate on the duty which pilgrims owed to his Charter, and the assumed spirit and intention in which it was given. He ignores the overwhelming instruction given by the royal arrival on the new continent. This was a greater king than Charles, and he insisted on making laws for those who lived there. They could not close their eyes to the conditions in which they can only live in it. wild, sand,

the snow, the rebels and the French were antagonists to be dealt with immediately, and there was no clause in the Charter to deal with them. No lawyer could help them read the pitiless alternative that Plymouth Rock offered them: - Self-Help or Ruin: Get on Right Terms or Die.


Judge W—of Rhode Island was not a great man and rebuked him for some insults he had received from Tristram Burgess in the bar, asking him if he knew to whom he was speaking. He replied: “Yes, Your Honor; before the lower court of the lower council of the state of Rhode Island."

Mr. Weeden told me that her old aunt said of people she knew in her youth that "they had to cling to the blackberry bushes to stop the translation."

I always like dealing with drastic class, people who can do things, like Dr. Charles T. Jackson; and Jim Bartlett and Boynton. Such was Thoreau. When they left the house, the poets paled before them like ghosts. I met Boynton in Rochester, New York, and was rather cold to the popular and unscientific geology lecturer. But I spoke to him about the notice I read about rejecting glowing bodies and the new experiments. "Oh," said he, "nothing is simpler: I have tried"; and, on the way to Mr. Ward, he led me to the furnace, where a chain of molten iron flowed from the furnace, and he ran his finger across the chain again and again, and invited me to do likewise. I said, "Aren't you wetting your finger?"

"No," he said, "the hand sweats a little and that's enough."


Therefore, words must be sparks from those fires that are kindled.

I saw that no journalist could so skilfully place his sheets, but that under each other sheet was involuntarily placed; and no binder could have so carefully bound unless the second leaf had been bound in the book: then I saw that, if the writer were skilful, every word he wrote would sink into the inner leaf, and remain there indelibly; and if he was not skilful, he did not penetrate, the ink faded and the inscription was erased.

Although were present vata armor Be present Two. 1— OVID.


Menu; Confucius; Heraclitus; Ovid; Suetonius; Marco Aurelio; Plotinus; Porphyry; St. Augustine; Averroes (Ibn Roshd); Snorre Sturluson;Nibelungenlied;De Joinville,Chronic of Santo Louis;Froissart,Chronicle;Huss; Luther; Michelangelo; Rabelais; Amyot, Philemon Holland (Plutarch translatorsMoralin French and English); thomas stanleyHistory of Philosophy;Spinoza; Fenelon; Voltaire; Peter Oliver,O puritanaco Community;Mateus Boulton; James watt; Goethe; Eckermann,conversations s Goethe;Dumont,Souvenirs already Mirabeau;To dress up; Judge; Alexander von Humboldt; Hegel; Heinrich Steffens, An Overview of Schelling's Philosophy; Fauriel Schelling; Hallam; Varnhagen von Ense,'daily;Arago; George Ticknor; Faraday; John G. Palfrey,History of Novi England;Carlyle; Heine; George B. Airy; George Sand; Ricardo Owen; Strauss; John Scott Russel; O. W. Holmes; Charles Darwin; Margaret Fuller; Theodore Parker; Sir William Armstrong; J. W. Foster,Geology;Erast B. Bigelow; Thomas Couture,method et to interview d'atelier;J. R. Lowell; Thoreau,Campo Grades;Leveque; Julia Ward Howe,Battle Security of o Republic;Tyndall; William J. Stillman; Ernesto Renan; Huxley,To lie down Sermons;Sir John Lubbuck; Philips Brooks; Hoefer,Novi Biography In general.
















(From ST Journal)

[Sir. EMERSON appears to have lectured in some towns in Massachusetts; also in Buffalo, Cleveland and New Brunswick, New Jersey during January.

On February 3, upon request, he spoke at a meeting held for the purpose of organizing the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. In his letter of thanks, Mr. Martin Brimmer expressed his belief that the good effects of this speech in arousing greater interest in the Museum soon became apparent.

But during the winter Mr. Emerson had the serious task of preparing a course of philosophy lectures for a new class at the University. According to Mr. Cabot, the lectures were much like those given last spring, except that "Identity" and "The Platonists" were omitted, but "Space and Mood,"

Added "Demonology" and another on "Intellect Behavior". Much of the new material from this course was later used in "Poetry and Imagination" incards eu Socialnext published volume.]


Star dob."Man is the oldest when he is born, and he keeps getting younger." — TALIESSIN,alreadySkene.


I don't know whether I would feel threatened or insulted if a chemist took your protoplasm or mixed your hydrogen, oxygen and carbon and made an animal tower that undeniably swims and jumps before my eyes. I should only feel that it indicated that the day had arrived when the human race could be given a new degree of power and its immense responsibility; for these steps are not solitary or local, but only the harbinger of an advancing frontier supported by an advancing race behind it.

What at first appalls Spiritualists in the experiments of the natural sciences - as if thought were only a finer purity, a finer aroma - is now attributed to the merits of matter, which, it seems, is impregnated with thought and heaven, and it is really of God, and not of the devil, as was hastily believed. Everything is resolved again in Unity. My chemistry, they will say, was blind and barbaric, but my intuition is, was and will be true.

I believe that every man belongs to his time, if our Newtons and philosophers also belong to the next age they helped to shape.

"Our progress looks great only because the future of science is hidden from us." —PHILIPE RANDOLPH.

Of gravity, John Mill told Carlyle, "Force may act, but where is it."

"With all my heart," replied Carlyle, "but where is he?"


dr. E. B. Pusey, of Oxford, surprised me two or three days ago by sending me "with respect" a book,Speeches already Daniel eu owith the following inscription written on a blank sheet, -

To the reckless and wise debtor I.

It's strange if true, and yet what's old is often new.

While I was in England I didn't see him, but I remember that in Oxford one day Froude, walking with me, pointed to his window and said, "That's where all our light comes from."

I should also note that Max Müller surprised me last Christmas with a gift of a book.

Coleridge says: "The Greeks, except perhaps in Homer, seem to have had no way of making their women interesting, except by desexualizing them, as exemplified by the tragic Medea, Electra, etc. Compare such characters with Spenser's Una, who shows none at all." prominent feature, no detail, but feels like a statue when viewed from a distance.

'Of her fair head her fillet she is firm,

And she laid her stole aside: her angelic face

As Heaven's great eye shone brightly,

And made the sun in a dark place:

Has no mortal eye seen such heavenly grace?'"

Size.Chateaubriand says that President Washington granted him an audience in Philadelphia, adding: “I'm glad Washington's eyes landed on me. I felt like they warmed me up for the rest of my life." Calvert tells an anecdote.

No one is so big that he finds someone to pick him up, and no historical figure begins to satisfy us; and this is our pledge of a greater height than he attained. And when we come to the question, the answer is already close at hand.


[Sir. Emerson's good friend, Mr. John M. Forbes, hearing that he seemed weary and weary from the strain of his philosophy lectures, two or more a week, invited him to be his guest on an excursion to California in a private automobile. In the company, in addition to Mr. Wilkinson James, deceased Colonel Robert Shaw's aide-de-camp, and wounded on the slopes of Fort Wagner. Mr. Emerson in accepting favors even from close friends, and his scruples about leaving work got in the way, but finally he yielded to Mr. Forbes and his daughter's urgency, and left. A trip across the prairies, mountains, and deserts (including a short stay in Salt Lake City and a conversation with Brigham Young), weeks in California in its springtime coolness and flowery sheets were for Mr. Emerson an unexpected delight and refreshment. The good friends of the company, with tact and affection towards him, each contributed to his satisfaction, and his respect and admiration for the quality of the host grew every day. Professor Thayer gave a pleasant account of the journey in a small notebook.

Mr. Emerson took advantage of the vacation and did some writing. But some travel notes appear.]

California Grades.Irrigation. Tea, an impossible culture where labor is as expensive as it is in America. Silk (?) Unadulterated wine; for grapes at a penny a pound are cheaper than any substitute.

Corporal Donner. The Golden Gate, named since ancient times for its flowers. Asia at your doorstep and South America. Excited anticipation haunts men. Henry Pierce's Opinion on the Necessity of Verification, Accident, Punishment to Teach Economics. Money [for] cents.

Mission Sorrows. Flora. Modified year. (See Hittel in California.)

John Muir. General Sumner.

Antelopes, prairie dogs, antlers, wolves, eagles, vultures, prairie chickens, owls.

Sequoias usually carry traces of fire: after living thirteen hundred years, they have had to face this danger and all the others in succession. However, they have a great fire resistance power. (See Cronise, pp. 507-508.)

Sarkodovi blood,snow plant that grows in snow, a parasite of rotten wood;monotropic. Cœanothus;wild lilac; Madonna; —perennial plant Menziesius;Manzanita;Acrostaphylos Shiva

Lake Tahoe black sand and carnelian. Mono Lake. glaciers; Clarence King. Volcanic mountains, cones, Enneo district.

California's appeal and superiority is in its day. It has better days, and more of them, than any other country.

Mount Shasta, 14,440 feet high, in the northeast corner of the state. Mount Whitney, 15,000 feet, in Tulare County. In Yosemite, the majesty of these mountains is perhaps unrivaled on Earth; for here they strip like show athletes and stand against the granite walls, displaying their full height and wearing the snowcap of liberty on their heads.

Sequoia Gigantea, pinus Lambertiana,Sugar Pine, 10 feet in diameter; 300 feet tall; 18 inch cones.pinus Think about it osa,yellow pine.pinus Albicaulis.

It could12.

At the request of Galen Clark, our host at Mariposa, who is, by state appointment, the Protector of Trees, and who went with us to Mammoth Groves, I selected a Giant Sequoia, near Galen's Hospice, in the presence of our party. , and named him in symbolical memoirs of Plymouth Colony's first Indian ally, and gave Mr. Clark instructed to obtain a pewter plate and paint an inscription on it in the usual form of named trees: and paid him the cost:-

Self defined. May 12, 1871

The tree was strong and healthy; circumference, 2 1/2 feet from the floor, 50 feet.

In California, what I was once told in St. Louis, that there is no difference between a boy and a man: as soon as a boy is "as tall" [as tall as a table] he contradicts his father. When introduced to a stranger, he says, "Nice to meet you" and shakes hands like an elder.

California, in its history and its poetry, teaches good and evil, and confirms my thought, one day at Five Points, New York, twenty years ago, that the outlaws and Amazons of that district were only outwardly, but wore under this bronze almost of the same morals as their civilized and well-dressed neighbors.

Gifts.Pleasant humiliation of gifts.

The saying is attributed to Sir Isaac Newton that "those who give nothing before death never really give anything".

We are sometimes surprised by coincidences so friendly that they point to a guardian angel: and sometimes, when they would be so convenient and in every way desirable, nothing but accidents happen. 'T can be so; chance is probably the rule, and if we could maintain our precocious innocence, we could trust our feet to take the right path to our friend in the woods without a command...

[Sir. Emerson arrived home in the last week of May, much refreshed and having enjoyed the company of his good friends.

Perhaps on the journey he wrote, at her request, the following]

Application for the Memorial Fountain of Mrs. Sarah Swain Forbes:-

Come on Stream! to bless. Return to Heaven: Just like our children, heaven welcomed them when they fell.

What was the name of the nymph "Which young Apollo cut his hair"? This fairy tale is renewed every day on the street and in the salon. Nothing in nature is more ideal than hair. Analyze it by taking a single hair, and it is characterless and valueless: but in the mass it is the vessel of such variety of form and instantaneous change from form to form, that it competes in expression with the eye and the face. The wind and sun play with it and amplify it, and its curves and mass are an eternal mystery and attraction for the young poet. But the deplorable shoplifting scam is suicidal and disgusting.

Nature lays out every creature's plan, - exactly, strictly suited to all its functions - and then conceals it.

(from New York)

My Men.Thomas Carlyle, Louis Agassiz, E. Rockwood Hoar, J. Elliot Cabot, John M. Forbes, Charles K. Newcomb, Philip P. Randolph, Richard Hunt, Alvah Crocker, William B. Ogden, Samuel G. Ward, J. R. Lowell, Sampson Reed, Henry D. Thoreau, A. B. Alcott, Horatio Greenough, Oliver Wendell Holmes, John Muir.

[In June, Mr. Emerson was elected a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and on August 15, when the Society celebrated the centenary of Scott's birth, Mr. Emerson spoke. What he said was printed in

(by ST)

Scott told Mr. Cheney: “Superstition is very graphic and I think sometimes it suits me very well; but I never allow it to interfere with interest or conscience.”—LOCKHART, vol. viii, p. 81.

I think he spoke long and well, but his superstition was dearer and wider to him than he well knew: I think it made him a stricter royalist, clergyman, and conservative than his intellect should allow.

The balance of forces is an untamed insinuation that must force its widest application. This gives unexpected force to Cicero's old sayingsomething commonand we learn the correlation of science. But poetry connects people, and geniuses, and every fine talent, and people of all kinds; and people who are enemies embrace when they hear from that hated neighbor a synonym for their own cherished belief.

The brilliance of this era surpasses all other recorded eras. Five miracles happened in my life, namely, me, a steamer;1,railway; 3, electric telegraph; 4, application of the spectroscope in astronomy; 5, Photography; —five miracles which changed the mutual relations of nations. Add cheap postage; and a lawn mower and a horse rake. A shoe hooking machine, a loom, and a printing press provided the manufacturers with adequate power. In both dentistry and surgery, the discovery of anesthesia by Dr. Jackson. It is enough for us to add a power which, until now, eludes all human ingenuity, namely, a balloon rudder, to give us power over the air, as well as over the sea and the land. But the account is not complete until we add Oersted's discovery of the identity of electricity and magnetism, and the generalization of this conversion by its application to light, heat, and gravity. The geologist found a coincidence of the age of the stratified remains with the increasing scale of the structure of the animal world. It now adds daily weather forecasts for the next twenty-four hours for North America, provided by the Observatory in Washington.

Poetry."News." Every day must be a new morning. Dress the new item in a coat that fits it better than anything else in the world. In many poems I see that the coat is second-hand. The emphasis reveals poverty of thought, as if the man did not know that all things are full of meaning, not just his asset.

It is one of the mysteries of our condition that the poet sometimes seems to have a mere talent - a chamber in his brain into which an angel with divine messages enters, but man, beyond that privilege, is common. Wordsworth is an example (and Channing's poetry is separate from the man). Those who know him and meet him every day cannot reconcile verses with their man.

Ah, these heights do not belong to me;

A better voice sings through my music.

[In July, at a formal dinner at Harvard College, being the fiftieth year since Mr. Emerson graduated, Mr. William Gray, who presided, invited him to speak. He did so, but what he said has not been preserved.]

Rhetoric.All conversation and writing is rhetorical, and the big secret is to know fully, not to be affected, and to have a spring of steel.

The English write better than we do, but I think we read more of their books than they do.

ForHistory of Freedom.There was a lot of Whig poetry written in the days of Charles and Cromwell: not a single line survives.

In certain minds, thought drives out memory. I have this example, - that, as anxious as I am to fix and record each experience, the interest in a new thought is sometimes such that I do not think of pen and paper, and the next day I am confused in vain trying to remember the new one. perception that captivated me so much.

Channing's poetry is not concerned with the reader. It is written for itself; it is his rigorous experience, a record of his moods, his fantasies, his observations and studies, and as such will interest good readers. He does not flatter the reader with any attempt to meet his expectations or polish his record to satisfy him, as readers expect to be satisfied. He completely surrenders to his own inclination or inclination towards meditation and writing. He will write as he always has, whether he has a reader or not. But that's why his songs are of exceptional value to me and others. We were not taken into account in their composition, but they challenged us or were forgotten, and so we read them with certainty, as original images that add something to our knowledge, and with good chances of being surprised and invigorated by a new experience.

George Bradford said that Mr. Alcott once told him, "that as a child, when he comes into the world, loses his angelic memory, so man, when he grows old, loses his memory of this world."


Bret Harteova visit.Bret Harte referred to my essay on Civilization, that the piano enters the hovel so quickly, etc., and said: “Did you know that vice, on the contrary, brings them? It's the players who bring music to California. It's the prostitute who brings New York fashion to dress there, and so on everywhere else." I told him that I also speak from pilgrim experience and that I know well the overwhelming culture that religion has.


Ruskin is a surprise to me. This old book,'Two trails,is original, insightful, deeply informed and religious.

"Like a fisherman of the sea

Catch a fish that no one has seen."

Like a sea fisherman

He pulls a fish that no one has seen.

Names should be foreboding, pleasant in sound, compliment the person in advance and, if possible, maintain the old belief of the Greeks, "that the name each man and woman bears has something to do with their part in the drama." of life ." The name, therefore, must look both before and after.

We have two or three facts of natural education: I. First, the common sense of the merciless treatment that matter gives us, actually punishes us for every mistake related to fire, water, iron, food and poison. 2. And this world is perfectly symmetrical, so that its laws can be reduced to one law. 3. Then we have the world of thought and its laws, like Niagara currents. 4. Next, the incredible relationship between these two.

The need of the mind is poetic... It is clear that Kepler, Hunter, Bonnet, Buffon, Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire, Linnaeus, Hauy, Oken, Goethe and Faraday were poets in science compared to Cuvier.

I'm generally repulsed by physicists. I don't want to read them, so I don't even know their names. But the anecdotes of these people arouse curiosity and the delight of ideas. Thus, Goethe and Oken's theory of the skull as a metamorphosed vertebra; and Hunter's "arrested development"; and Oersted's "correlation of strength"; and Hay's vessel-form theory; and the architectural theories of Garbett and Ruskin; and Vitruvius' relation between the human form and the temple; and Peirce showing that the orbits of comets (parables) form the shapes of flowers; and Kepler's relation of planetary laws to music; and Franklin's kite.

Reality, however, has a slippery slope.

Watch your thoughts carefully. They come unexpectedly, like a new bird seen in your trees, and if you go back to your usual business they are gone; and you will never find that realization again; never, I say, - but maybe years, ages, and I don't know what events and worlds can stand between you and his return!

In the novel, the hero meets a person who astonishes him with his perfect knowledge of his history and character, and extracts from him the promise that, whenever and wherever he meets him, the young man will immediately follow and obey him. It's the same with you and a new thought.

"For immortal powers belong to the verse,

And they are strong like demigods

On whom the muses smile."

Em TwistletonManuscript of June(p. xiv) I find a quote from Johnson, Bacon's observation: “A testimony is like an arrow shot from a long bow: its strength depends on the strength of the hand that draws it. Conflict is like an arrow from a crossbow, which has the same force even if it is shot by a child."

Tibullus (of Sulpicia) says of Venus:let's go whatever it is a git, with whom steps turns Komponira and follow decoration.

So Twistleton's motto of Epicharmus is good -

NoOsopr) eualtodeaf eublindly.

Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire is a true hero. He read his conduct in August 1792, when his professors Lhomonde and Haiiy, professors of his College Cardinal-Lemoine, and all other professors were arrested and sent to the prison of Saint-Firmin....

[Here follows an account of his repeated attempts, desperately risking himself, and his ultimate success in the escape of twelve of his friends.]

Saint-Hilaire was very sick from these efforts. Haiiy wrote to him: “Let your crystals, rhomboids anddokaedres;cling to plants, which are full of beauty;

the botany course is pure hygiene.” He went with Bonaparte to Egypt and saved the scientific results in a brilliant act of heroism. In a debate at the Académie des Sciences, 1830 (?), July 19, a dispute broke out between Cuvier and Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire and recalled the ancient sects of philosophers who shook the world with their disputes. Rigorous and regulated thinkers, men of serious science, participated with Cuvier; Brave minds sided with Geoffroy. What changes have entered the competitions of the Churches! The debates of the Ecumenical Council are of interest only to Catholics and a few abnormal readers, who are interested, like billiard players, in the contests of billiard champions.

cultureThe wide distribution of taste for poetry is a new fact. We get twelve newspapers every week in this house, and eleven of them contain a new poem or poems - all of them respectable - perhaps one or two suitable for you to cut out of paper and put in your anthology. Many of these poems are as good as many of the works in the standard Aikin or Anderson collection, and remember Walter Scott's response when Tom Moore said, "Now, Scott, it seems to me that these young men write better poetry than we do, and no one does not read. You see how good this poetry is from so many young writers, and the public ignores them." Scott replied, "Holy shit, man, we got lucky." Conversation lines are now written in hundreds of homes, or [for] “picnics” or "private theater performances", which would have gained a reputation a century ago, but are now unknown outside some family circle. Webster wrote some excellent lines on the album; Macaulay did the same, you "God": so the "Enigma of the Letter H" for Byrch.

George Bartlett's wit and happiness at private "game parties" is delightful. However, the public never heard his name. Arthur Gilman too. In England, in France, Frères, Tom Taylors, Luttrells, Hendersons appear (also Newton's Cotes, which we should never have heard of, except for a remark by Newton).

Still, good poetry is as rare as ever.

What a blessing from Heaven is this joy which I behold with delight - which no wrath, no annoyance, and no disaster can disturb, but which keeps its perfect key and cures madness in all undertakings and crises.

"Boys should be seen, not heard": good, but poets are not seen. Look at the silly portraits of Herrick and Gray, one is a butcher and the other is silly. The Greek form corresponded to the Greek character, but poets are free from their forms — they live an official life. The intellect is impersonal.

The father cannot control the son for lack of sympathy. A man with a longer scale of sympathy, a man who feels the boy's reason, pity and imagination, as well as his rough banter, impatience and revolt - who knows the whole range in himself - knows his way from one to another. the other, and can play the boy, as on a harp, and carry him easily from Scamp to Angel.

America.Oxford, which has worked steadily for a thousand years, - or the Sorbonne in France, - and the royal court which for centuries has constantly drawn men and women of talent and grace from all over the kingdom to the capital, can give impetus and sequel to learning and to genius. And the history of this country was much less favorable to rich and polished literature than that of England and France. Count our literati, and they are few, and their works are not impressive. But if it is not about books, but about people - about intellect and not about literature - there would be no sharp inferiority. Because everyone knows smart people and special or general powers, which must be compared with the citizens of any nation. Edward Taylor lavished more intelligence and imagination on his motley congregation of sailors and caulkers than you will find in all of France. He fused and purified the most difficult experiences, like Shakespeare, into eloquence. Wendell Phillips is Pericles when you hear him speak. Beecher, I am sure, is a master of public speaking, though he has never heard his speeches as well as I have read them. Webster was magnificent in his best days: and the better the audience for these men, the greater the appreciation. None of them could write as well as he spoke. Appleton's intelligence is as good as that of Frère, Selby or Luttrell, who shine in biographies. And England has no occasional poet to top Holmes. dr. Channing, I must believe, was without equal as a preacher in the world of his day. Then we have the businessmen, who would rule wherever there are men - lords in commerce, in law, in politics, in society. All marital states have them, but I doubt anyone has them more or better than we do.

Add to this that the Adamses have shown hereditary skill in public affairs, and Judge Hoar is as good a lawyer, statesman, and influence in public and private as any city could expect.

I pass over my own list of [often mentioned] thinkers and friends, and only add that I believe our soil produces women as good as England or France, though we have no books of theirs to compare with.Germany.Still, Aunt Mary's diaries shine with genius, as does Margaret Fuller's conversation.

[The Chicago fire happened in early October. Mr. Emerson didn't intend to go a long way to lecture again, but he couldn't resist an invitation to go there and speak, which he did, and he lectured in other cities along the way.]

Back home from Chicago, Quincy, Springfield and Diibuque, which I didn't believe I would see again, but it was easier for me to visit them than before, and I was very kindly received in each city.


Epicharmus; Hercules; Vitruvian; tibulusElegy;Jamblih; Taliesin,alreadySkene; Kepler; Robert Hooke; Newton; Rogério Cotes; Buffon; Lineu; Shiva; Hauba; John Hunter; João Adams; Hay; Henry McKenzie; Igraj posteno; Goethe; Dugald Stewart; Mackintosh; John Quincy Adams; John Hookham Frère; Châteaubriand; Cuvier; Sir John Leslie; Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire; James Hogg; Jeffrey; Oersted; Ok; Lorde Brougham; Lorde Cockburn; Rev. W. E. Channing; Chalmers; general Gourgaud; Daniel Webster; “Otac” Edward Taylor; Robert Knox; John Wilson (“Christopher North”); De Quincey; Allan Cunningham; Sir William Hamilton; Lockhart; Carlyle; Flourens,Discussion in between cuvier et GeoffreyReverendo Edward B. Pusey,Speeches already Daniel eu o Prophets;Macaulay; cardeal Wiseman; Luttrell; Byrch,Puzzle already o Carta H;J. S. Mill; dr. Charles T. Jackson; Benjamim Peirce; Holmes; Wendell Phillips; Beecher; Dr. Jeffries Wyman,Symmetry eu Homology you human members;Thomas G. Appleton; Tom Taylor; Froude; W. Ellery Channing,Songs;Ruskin,'O Two Tracks;complete,Already Vases;Tyndall,Already As;Max Müller; Lacy Garbet,to design you Architecture;Charles Francis Adams; Artur Gilman; Twistleton,O Manuscript of Junius;Francis Bret Harte; John Muir; Cronise,Already trees (?)














em 1872

(From ST Journal)

[In January, Mr. Emerson gave a course of four lectures in Baltimore, and in Washington, where he was invited by Senator Sumner, he was invited to address the students (Freedmen) of Howard University. The speech was partial, but he probably, to help them with the speech, read a few pages from his lecture on Books, to direct the reading of the more serious and intellectual among them. The event was covered by all the newspapers,1 and upon his return Mr. Emerson was almost bored, but he was soon amused by the many letters he received. He told the family that the speech was “very bad; I'm just talking against time." During this he praised George HerbertSongsas "a Sunday book and also a Monday book", he asked if they had any in their library and said he would have the privilege of giving it to them.

When he went to a bookshop in Boston to buy it, he was told, “There is no Herbert to buy, sir. Since his speech was published, there has been such demand for them that they have all been sold and there are none left in Boston.” He found one, however, and returned home more satisfied with the outcome of his speech than he ever imagined. Then more letters arrived, one suggesting he should write about books. Relatively few people probably read it thenSociety eu Loneliness,volume published almost two years ago.

Mr. James T. Fields, who, with Colonel Forbes, arranged the Saturday Afternoon Readings in English Prose and Verse in 1869, again kindly encouraged (Colonel Forbes having gone to Europe with his family) to take another such course. This scheme has been very successful, and there is great demand for tickets for the six readings at Mechanics' Hall in Boston, which began in mid-April. Mr. Emerson enjoyed sharing with audiences of friends, old and young, the pleasure he felt in these selections, made since childhood. The poems and selections were by authors from different periods and on very different topics. Mr. Emerson read his favorites, recent or favorites from the associations of his youth, not caring much if they were all illustrations from a brief speech at the beginning. As his memory was now imperfect, he at least once read the newspaper he had already read a few minutes ago. His daughter Ellen, who always accompanied him, was annoyed by this and begged him to always read his lectures to her first. But he replied: "The things that go wrong - about these lectures don't bother me, as I know that everyone knows that I am exhausted and rejected, and that only my old friends come for one last friendship." spice it up with me.

The course, however, seems to have been very successful, and to have given great pleasure, week after week, to a large number of the best in Boston and the neighborhood.

What follows may have been some notes for the last of these readings, or perhaps for some Sunday address to the Parker Society at the Music Hall.]

It is common for Americans to dare to be simple in religion, as they have been in government, in commerce, in social life.

Christianity is pure deism.

"Hunger and thirst for righteousness."

"The kingdom of God cometh not by observation"; is "received as a little child."

"God considers honesty, not generosity." — SOCRATES.

The power belongs to God, but his secret is with those who fear him.

Schleiermacher said: "The human soul is Christian by nature."

One thing is certain: religions are obsolete when reforms do not start from them.

You say the Church is an institution of God. Yes, but intelligence, wise men and good judgment were not such a matter or not - also institutions of God and older than others?

concord High school.For that local talk I still propose to read at our town hall [don't forget to mention] about hanging private pictures every month in the library, etc., etc.

Remember that the scholar wants every book, chart, and plate belonging to him to attract the interest of every moment by its circulation: because

"No man is master of anything

Till he communicates his part to others;

He doesn't even know anything about them.

Till he sees them formed in a snap Where they are expanded; where, like an arch, the voice resounds, or, like a steel door before the sun, receives and returns the image and its warmth."

(Troilus eu

When I was a boy I used to go to the docks and collect shells from the sand brought in by ships as ballast, plus an abundance of stones, plaster, which I found to glow when I rubbed two pieces in a dark cupboard, to my great wonder; — and I don't know why to shine until today. That, and magnetizing my switchblade until it held the needle; and the fact that blue and yellow would make white green in my mountain paintings; and the delight of drawing vases by scribbling ink in heavy random lines and then folding the paper to make the other side symmetrical - what was chaos became symmetrical; so praise the echo in the pond and get wonderful responses.

Even before, what silent wonder is awakened in a boy blowing soapy water bubbles with a pipe!

Star Dob.We spent a long time waiting.

“I look no further, the prize has been found;

I am unfurling my sail, the journey is over.”

Whose lines? I think my part is a translation of some Latin lines for Mrs. Drury.

A good writer is sure of his influence, because, as he always transcribes not from his imagination, but from real facts, - when his reader later comes to similar experiences of his own, he always remembers the writer. Nor do I much care whether the Zend-Avesta or the Desatir are genuine antiques or modern forgeries, as I am only interested in good phrases; and it matters not how old the truth is, whether an hour or five centuries, whether it first arose in Adam's mind or his. If true, he must be much older than the two of us.

Shakespeare.Parallax, as you know, is the apparent displacement of an object from two points of view; — less and less celestial bodies, because of their distance, — and fixed stars, not at all. Then we discover that Shakespeare is a fixed star.

Because all kinds of people have found it inaccessible for three centuries. Long experience decides the value of a song.

It could 16,em 1872.

Yesterday, on my sixty-ninth birthday, I found myself on my way to Letna Street and, although close to the place where I was born, I looked down the street a bit bewilderedly and read the signKingstonwith surprise, finding in the granite blocks no indication of Nathaniel Goddard's pastures and long wooden fences, nor of my proximity to my native corner of Chauncy Place. It occurred to me that few people alive must know so much about the families of this rapidly growing city, because Aunt Mary - whose manuscripts I read to Hedge and Bartolo on Friday night - had such an interest, insight into character, and taste for the aristocracy, and I, in her youth and maturity, heard all the names she knew. It has been nearly a hundred years since her birth, and the founders of the oldest families still known were known to her as tradesmen-traders, millers, tailors, distillers, as well as ministers, lawyers and doctors of the time. She was a realist and knew a big man or "whale heart woman" - as she called one of her pets - a successful money trader.

If I live a few more years, I think I'll still be quoting the last stanza of my poem, "The Soul of the World."

Walk around the city for an hour and you will see the whole history of female beauty. Here are schoolgirls in their first hair that covers them to the waist, and here and there a girl of eighteen or nineteen, in the moment of her perfect beauty. Look fast and sharp, - this is her meridian day. To find a match again, you must meet someone who is a month younger today on your next visit. Then a troop of pleasant, well-dressed ladies, pretty and graceful enough, but not entitled to the bounty of the goddess of discord.

And spring is still spring in the mind

When you say sixty years old;

Love wakes this beating heart again,

And we are never old.

About winter glaciers

I see the summer glow,

And through the wildly accumulated snowdrifts

Hot pink buds below.

"There is no sign that our mighty rocks have tingled with an earthquake," said John Muir.

He said he slept in a fold of redwood bark the night after we left him.


Sarah Clarke charmed us with her twenty-six-hour visit, always in the same peaceful spirit, wise, just and benevolent, open, kind, skillful, without a word of self-assertion. I regret that I did not remember her, and bear witness to my frequent remembrance of her noble and often needed and repeated nursing care for Margaret Fuller, in the old days, in her cruel headaches. We talked about many of their friends, but she didn't seem to know anything about Charles Newcomb. She didn't know much about Greenough. I was pleased, in describing his last visit to me, to add that he was one of those who added to her varied perception a rareSeivov(passionately).

What proof of Goethe's richness of spirit as


Yesterday I read my article on "Character" or "Greatness" in the "Social Union" consisting of four classes at Amherst College. He stayed with Ellen at President Stearns' house, where he found Henry Ward Beecher, Lord Justice, and other gentlemen, with Miss. Gleason, Ms. Goodman of Lenox, Miss. Annie Lee of Charlestown and the daughters of President Stearns.

Visited the Boltwoods and examined their rich mineral collection at Walker Hall with Professor Charles U. Shepard.

It is easy to write the techniques of poetry, to distinguish between imagination and imagination, etc.; but the position and power which the word poetry covers and suggests is not so easy to reach and define. What do heaven and earth and sea and the forms of men and women tell us or suggest to us in our healthiest and most impressionable hours - what new insights will the new day give us about the old problems of our own being and its hidden source; what is the Heaven of Law, and what the Future hides.


The house caught fire.

[The above is the entire record left by Mr. Emerson about the temporary destruction of his home. By an unfortunate coincidence, none of his children were around to help the father and mother when they were awakened one rainy morning by the crackling of the fire in their bedroom walls. Their daughter Ellen was visiting friends by the sea; Mrs. Forbes (Edith) was, with her husband and family, returning from England, and Edward, then recovering from a surgical operation, remained there to continue his medical studies. However, the immediate neighbors, and soon a large number of local residents, as well as the fire department, quickly arrived on the scene, men and boys with great energy and courage saved property and extinguished the fire, while women and girls sorted and collected household items. smartly and quickly and save them from the rain by taking them to nearby houses. The events of the village fire and the actions of good-natured but inexperienced neighbors were the subject of ridicule in newspapers and stories, but here was an occasion when common sense and the courageous and affectionate actions of neighbors reached their zenith, and Nevergraduationas it existed in simpler days, and still remains in some degree, it shows itself more refined. The fire started in the attic, almost certainly from a kerosene lamp charring the wood, hot and dry from summer. The woman, hired the day before as a maid, apparently spent part of the night sneaking around among the trunks and crates present there. As help began to arrive, the house filled with choking black smoke, making it difficult to rescue the upstairs furniture and clothing. By the time this was done, and the falling ceilings had driven the men out, the lower floor was so filled with smoke that when they remembered the book in Mr. Emerson, stayedsensethere for the brave boys, who ran, holding their breath, pulled them in baskets or blankets, and everyone was saved; fortunately, manuscripts too.

Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, imperfectly dressed, wet with rain, tired and worn with excitement, were taken home and cared for by Judge Keyes and his family, and were received the next day at the Presbytery - the ancestral home of dear Mr. Emerson from childhood, - by his cousin, Miss. Elizabeth Ripley. During the fire, all kinds of exciting and some dangerous incidents took place. When a hole in the roof released smoke and water which extinguished the fire, the roof and upper part of the walls of the main house were destroyed, and the interior was badly damaged by smoke and water.

G. Cabot, youmemoirs,gives some account of the fire and its effects on Mr. Emerson, and also prints in Appendix E of the second volume the moving account of Dr. Le Baron Russell on the "Friendly Conspiracy", the instantaneous and unwelcome action of old and new friends, some of them barely known to Mr. Emerson, as a token of affection and gratitude, to rebuild his home, and meanwhile to send him abroad for rest and recreation. There too, in Judge Hoare's letter to Dr. Russell, appears the happy and affectionate intelligence of the judge in presenting the matter to Mr. Emerson, as the ambassador of his friends, in such a manner that it was impossible to refuse the present, though Mr. ... Emerson pleaded for a time that he would consider it, saying that so far in his life he "has been allowed to stand on his own two feet".

Mr. Emerson appeared brave and cheerful during the fire, and for over a week afterwards he appeared to have suffered no damage. His daughter wrote that the experience did not seem to seriously affect him. “There is no doubt,” she wrote, “that it was a tragedy for him at the time and that he suffered greatly. Nothing has ever shown me so clearly how faithful he is to never mentioning himself as this week."

A courtroom has been reserved for Mr. Emerson, whither his necessary manuscripts and books were brought, and there he attempted the anxious and unwelcome task of preparing a new volume. He was forced to do so by an English publisher who, by the way, proposed to print his first scattered works (fromTo chooseand elsewhere), but agreed to desist if he would allow, in a very short time, in connection with his Boston publishers, to publish in England a new volume of his essays.

But about a fortnight after the fire, Mr. Emerson began to feel very ill, and although he remained, he came down with a low-grade fever, cough, and weakness. Feeling no better, he went to Rye Beach with his daughter for a day or two, and thence to Waterford, Maine. Improvement came slowly; he was disturbed by the publisher's urgency for a new volume that he could not work on. At Waterford he began to think that perhaps the end of his life might be approaching, and to consider what would become of his manuscripts and diaries, saying they would be very valuable to him if his son were a scholar: "Otherwise they are useless." He was afraid of falling into the wrong hands. Your friends Mr. J. Elliot Cabot and Dr. Frederic H. Hedge were the only people he would consider, but he didn't feel he could ask any of them to leave their work to him should his powers fail. It was explained to editors in London and here that it was absolutely out of the question that Mr. Emerson was working oncards eu Social Goalsuntil he regained his health by complete rest. The following year, Mr. Cabot kindly arranged the material for him and prepared it for printing.

Not long after the fire, Ms. Emerson wrote to Dr. Edward H. Clarke, whom her father was about to consult, a letter in which he spoke of the loss of his memory and working faculties, which the family now began to perceive were imperceptibly going on. five or six years, - Mr. Emerson calmly acknowledged this in 1866 when he wrote "Terminus". The fire and subsequent illness added to that anguish, and nowaphasia,difficulties arose in associating a suitable word with the idea, though not seriously at first, and also very variable according to his state of health.]


He forgot, leaving home, twenty needs, —— forgot to put Horatio, or Martial, or Cicero's letters,O To quoteor Taine in my wallet: I even forgot the sacred bag of chocolates, to keep them or their ilk. Well, in dear Vale, eleven miles away, I can remember or recall things so well. However, I must remember that the letters are due... [to the many dear friends who generously pitched in to help rebuild the house and give me a peaceful rest]. I may venture a letter of travel advice to Elliot Cabot, and a letter to the kindly Alexander Ireland is more than necessary.

[Colonel William Forbes, his wife and children returned from abroad, and Mr. Emerson, now recovered from his acute attack, happily accepted his daughter's invitation to spend a month with them on the beautiful Isle of Forbes, Mrs. Emerson and her daughter Ellen as well.]


I thought today, in these rare coastal forests, that if they offered me absolute leisure, I should run to the college or science school that offers the best classes in geology, chemistry, minerals, botany and try to compose the alphabet of those sciences that I understand. So that free time or work can be better used. It's never too late to learn them and each open secret confirms our aesthetics. Cato learned Greek in his eighties, but these are bibles and oracles older than Greek. That sure was goodpis andif Elliot Cabot and Athens and Egypt prove to be an impossible dream.

I think one has to go to the tropics to find some connection with this enchanting island of Prospero. He needs and must find his own Shakespeare. What parts! what a pond! what lumberjacks! what heaps of historical trees of unknown age, suggesting the annals of white man and Indian, the history of fire and storm, and peaceful ages of social growth! Nature displays her secret wonders and seems to have impressed her lucky owners with an instant and lasting respect for their solitude and age-old growth. Where else grow such oaks, beeches, and vines, which winds and storms seem to adorn, instead of spoiling with their wounds and destruction, touching them as if by fate, and not by arbitrary interference? And the sea links the sky with its magnificent blue belt, its beautiful pebbled shore, its watchful herons, hawks and eagles, and its endless fleet of barges, steamers, yachts and fishing boats.

The island obliges them - they rejoice - to be skilled sailors, yachtsmen, fishermen and swimmers, thus adding to their residence all the charm of the sea, as well as the surprise and romance of hunting.

[It was not very easy to persuade Mr. Emerson to go abroad in winter and spring. He was attracted by the idea of ​​seeing some friends, old and new, in England, but he had always considered himself unfit for visits and company, and now the limitations and increasing infirmities of age were degrading him. Still, he was attracted by the thought of seeing the ancient Nile, and perhaps Greece, and was finally persuaded to set sail, in the last week of October, with his daughter Ellen, for Liverpool, leaving Mrs. , Mrs. Forbes. Upon arriving in England, Mr. and Miss. Emerson were greeted by their son Edward, then a student at St. Thomas in London, whither, after a brief rest in Chester, they went in early November. Edward then had to sail home.

Mr. Emerson and her daughter were very kindly received on their arrival in London, and every kind help and guidance was given them by the American friends who must be mentioned here. Colonel Henry Lee, who had lost two of his daughters to diphtheria in Florence in the winter, whose wife was ill and whose eldest son struggled between life and death with typhoid fever, still came daily to see them and, saving his own problems, he cheered them up with his friendly and witty speech; Mr. Charles Eliot Norton, who had lost his beautiful wife within a year, resided in London with his family and gave assistance and sage advice in planning a trip to France and Italy en route to Egypt. And his sister took care of miss. Emerson, who was temporarily lame; The Reverend William Henry Channing, then a Unitarian minister at Kensington, did with tender zeal all that was possible to make his stay in London easy and comfortable in his invalid state, as did Mr. Moncure D. Conway, then Minister of Ethics for the Southern Place. Society. Mr. Emerson also had the unexpected pleasure of meeting Charles K. Newcomb, a treasured friend from many years ago.

Of English friends, Mr. Thomas Hughes came first, then Dean Stanley and his wife Lady Augusta, the wonderful surgeon (soon afterwards knighted) William MacCormac, who nursed young Emerson and, most esteemed, Carlyle, though old, broken, and sad. In Chester and London, as far as his friends would allow, Mr. Emerson took great comfort in his lack of responsibility and calmly declared that it was a matter of age. I love above all not doing anything”; he said that he had never discovered this seventy-year privilege: also that he had discovered that "there is a convenience to having a name - it serves a man no more than having a good coat". He began to eat better than he had in a long time, and spent long nights, saying, "A warm bed is the best medicine - and a man sleeps so well in this country - a good sleep." At the table he said: "The country of England needs a lot of food in its inhabitants." When plans were made for him, he would smile and say, "Old age loves leisure." However, in this short stay, although he was hesitant to socialize, he took moderate pleasure in seeing the sights of London.

Mr. Norton, during the last year, has poured as much of his own sadness into the joy of Ruskin and Carlyle, both sick and deeply depressed, as much as possible, and has come to like them very much. Carlyle told him, speaking of Emerson's letter recognizing the last volumes of theFrederick o“I have a letter which I received from him, after a long silence, and though there were a few words in it which did not hurt me, it says the only thing that was said about my book which was worth saying; and therefore, when I read it, I wrapped it up in a piece of paper and put it in a book, and there it will remain until I die and fall into hands other than mine. This interesting sentence was written by Ms. Emerson, whose verbal memory was excellent, in a letter to his sister shortly after Mr. Norton. Probably refers to the letter CLV (January 7, 1866) ofCarlyle-Emersonand yet what is said of hurtful words may refer to Emerson's letter which preceded it (CLIII, September 26, 1864) and refers to Carlyle's perverse hostility to the North during the war. The last letters that reached them were very friendly.

After just one week of cold and rainy November in London, Mr. Emerson and his daughter moved to Canterbury - so attractive that he suggested they send for Mrs. Emerson and settle there. However, after two days they went straight to Paris. There they spent a happy week in the same hotel with Mr. and Mrs. James Russell Lowell and the charming Mr. John Holmes (brother of the Doctor), whose acquaintance Mr. Emerson had met fourteen years earlier at his camp in the Adirondack. In Paris they were joined by a charming Swiss traveling servant recommended to them by Dean Stanley, without whose services their further travels would have been marred with care and difficulty, and therefore avoided. From there they went by train to Marseille and Nice and by boat to Genoa, and from there again by boat to Livorno. After a brief stopover in Pisa and Florence, they arrived in Rome on the last day of November.

The weather was fine, they found friends, and they had the special fortune to be invited during the last week of Baron von Hoffman and his wife, who was the daughter of Samuel Gray Ward, of Boston, an old and valued friend of Mr. Emerson. His villa and garden at the top of the Celio hill were very beautiful and offered wonderful views of the Campagna and the distant mountains. Under the baron's excellent guidance, they saw the ancient city at its best. From there they went to Naples and after four days sailed to Egypt. Christmas found them in Alexandria, and in the last days of the year they left for Cairo.]


Zend-Avesta; Heraclitus; Socrates; Cicero; martial; Taliesin; Saadi; Leonardo da Vinci; Vasari,Life of Rafael;Spenser,Muiopotmos;Ben Jonson,Oda to do Sam;Ivanto do One honest, virtuous of man Fortuna;Waller,Sorry for having amado back;Montrose,Amor A song;RicardoOthers;Crashaw,is suspicious d'Herode;Bishop Berkeley; Father; David Lewis,lines to do Literature;Thomson,Season;John Wesley, himna,O a tie after Of;John Hunter; Sir William Jones, a translation of a Hindu poem,To do Narayana;Goethe,sayings West East Diva;Schleiermacher; Wordsworth,Sonnet to do cold, O They of Prayer;Scott,Songs of o Branco shake of Avenel;Ballad,Thomas o Rhymer;Byron,MuratyouOda to do When cold involves It is also clay;Varnhagen von Ense; Boucher od Perthesa,Of man antediluviano;Josiah Conder,O Modern Passenger;Translations of cleftic ballads (fromdial), A modern greek Lochinvar,euOlympus eu urinary tract; Arabic Ballad;Agassiz; Tennyson,Woolen fabric;Richard Monckton Milnes,O To lie down of o Modesto;Julia C.R. Dorr,overcome;Sra. Carolinelines to do o Poet;J. G. Saxe; Thoreau,Inspiration;Ruskin,Sesame eu Lilies;J. R. Lowell; Coventry Patmore; Herman Grimm,Life Rafael;Henrique Timrod,Oda to do o confederation Died;Edmund C. Stedman,Ivan Brown of Ossawatomie;Helena Hunt,'Thought.







em 1873

(From ST Journal)

[Despite the rest, the friendly faces, and the interesting scenes, the old feeling that it is unprofitable to travel for the sake of travelling, which appears so often in Mr. Emerson, will appear, especially at the beginning of the trip. His daughter records some of the “sadly witty remarks” he made in the Delta as they passed through him to Cairo: “Can there be anything more foolish than to leave a country like ours to see this muddy sterility? - Look at the! there is some water, and look! there are a lot of people. They gathered with the intention of drowning." Although he was very willing to go home, he said that he would be happy to spend a fortnight with Mr. Lowell in Paris and wanted to meet Tennyson, Ruskin and Browning in England before his return. Also, before leaving home, when Egypt was proposed to him, he said: "Yes, I would like to see the tomb of 'the one who sleeps in Phylæus.' In Cairo, he was pleased to find Mr. Bancroft and toured the city with him. Mr. Charles G. Leland and Mr. Augustus Julius Hare also agreed. General Charles Stone (former US Army, then Chief of Staff of Turkish Forces in Egypt) and his family showed great kindness to Mr. Emerson and his daughter.]


em 1873.

Nothing impressed me more on the streets here than the erect posture and gait of the Copts (I think they did); better and nobler in figure and motion than any traveler in our home towns.

On Tuesday, January 7th, we left Cairo for Philæ, in dahabeah, with Mahmoud Bedow, the dragoman; ANDcruor the captain and his mate; ten rowers, two cooks, an assistant, a waiter named Marzook, and a second waiter Hassan, - eighteen in all: the company in the cabin was Mr. and Mrs. Whitwell, Ms. May Whitwell and Ms. Bessie Whitwell, Miss. Farquhar [a Scottish lady], Ellen me too.

Egypt is very poor in trees: we hardly saw an orange tree. Palm trees are the main tree along the banks of the river from Cairo to Aswan; acacia, fig. In Cairo we had a banyan tree with its branches planted around it under my window in the Shepheard Hotel.

Egypt is the Nile and its banks. The cultivated land is just a green ribbon on both sides of the river. You can see, as you sail, its fast edge on rocky mountains or barren sands. Day after day and week after week of uninterrupted sunshine, and although you may see clouds in the sky, they are just decoration, never rain.

The Prophet says of the Egyptians: "Your strength is standing still."

Papyrus is more important to the story than cotton.

All this time is eternal humiliation, satire and scourge of our ignorance. People look down on us because we are helpless babies who don't speak or understand a single word; sphinxes despise fools; obelisks, temple walls, challenge us with their indescribable history. Each new subject only raises new questions that each traveler asks the other, and none of us can answer, and each one sinks into the opinion of his companion. People, on or off a boat, are a constant study in the excellence and grace of their form and movement. There are no men who walk so well, as straight as they are, strong and supple; and to study the act, our artists should come here and not to Paris. Every group of coastal peasants, seen from our dahabe, look like ancient philosophers going to school in Athens.

In swimming, the Arabs show great strength and speed, and all use what we in Cambridge call a "southern stroke", alternating between right and left hands.

All boys and all babies have flies around their eyes that don't bother them or seem to acknowledge their presence. Healthy eyes are rarely found among them. Blind beggars appear on every landing, led by their children.

From the moment of our arrival in Cairo until our return there, six weeks, we had no rain; - a cloudless summer on the Nile to Aswan and back, and we demanded that the awning be spread over us on deck from 10am until late afternoon.

In Egypt sandstone or limestone instructs the people how to build - it is in square blocks, and they only have to make a square doorway to the tombs, and the edge is a pair or series of steps or steps. The Latin candle is the shadow of the pyramid; and a pyramid is the simplest copy of a mountain, or the shape which a pile of sand or earth assumes when dropped from a wheelbarrow.

—— I saw a crocodile in the Nile from afar.

We arrived at Theba on the 19th of January; Esne (?), 24.; and at Aswan, January 28th; visited Philæ, on Wednesday, January 29; arrived in Cairo on Thursday, February 13th, totaling 38 days for our shipment and return.

The magnet is a mystery I wish he could explain to me, though I doubt there are teachers. It is the miracle of a child, no less of a philosopher. Goethe says: "The magnet is a primary phenomenon, which we only have to express in order to explain it." In that way, it's also a symbol for everyone except those we don't utter a word or a name."

See Plutarch, vol.i, p. 156, old copy [edition].


Meet Mr. George L. Owen in Aswan, our party and his exchange of visits. I found him a very intelligent and pleasant companion. In the dahabeah where we found him on the Nile, he shared a cabin with only one companion, Mr. Ralph Elliot.

[This encounter with Mr. Owen (also another, soon after, on the way down the Nile) was a very pleasant episode. Mr. Emerson gradually improved, and with her, her pleasure.

In Cairo, Mr. Emerson and his daughter parted from their fellow friends, sailed for Italy - enjoying the view of Crete and its mountains, the birthplace of Zeus, in passing, and after disembarking hurried on to Rome. In eleven days they had little time for sightseeing, but they received constant visits and loving attention. Mr. Marsh, the American minister, and his wife were very kind and saw their friends Yon Hoffman; also Storys, Howitts, Lady Ashburton, Mr. Tilton, the artist, Ms. Sara Clarke and Dr. Wister of Philadelphia.]

In Florence I expected to meet Herman Grimm, who, I heard, was there to complete hisLife of Raffaele.As soon as I arrived, I sent Curnex [a traveling servant] to German bookstores to find out his address. None of them knew of his presence in the city. I found Mr. Bigelow, our American minister in Paris, in the street, and asked him for news of Grimm. He didn't know he was here. When I got back to the Hotel du Nord, I found Mr. Bigelow, in which it was written that, shortly after he left me, he met Grimm in the street and learned his address, which he had written to me. in his card: and Grimm also was called and left his. I immediately went to Grimm's, they welcomed me and introduced me to his wife Gisela, and we invited them to join us for dinner that night, which they did, much to Ellen's and my delight. He speaks excellent English, and Gisela, who doesn't know it, spoke to Ellen in German.

[Sir. Emerson never met Grimm, although he and his wife (daughter of Bettina [Brentano] von Arnim) corresponded with him occasionally over the years. The meeting was very pleasant and happy, as Mr. Emerson and his daughter were leaving for Paris the next morning.

Em Herman GrimmEssayit is a very interesting account of how he came to know Emerson's writings.

Grimm's comments to Miss. Emerson about his father's appearance are interesting because they show not only the benefit of the Egyptian journey, but what a healthy man he was, even in his last illness, and how much certain pictures belied him. His daughter, writing home from Florence, said: “Herman now began to tell me of his pleasure in seeing his father, and said that every photograph did him a great injustice; - 'they all represent a feeble old man of seventy years; he looks like a strong man of fifty. It looks like it's made of iron, made of copper. It looks like it's made of steel. He has a well-defined masculine face; and colors so vivid, that they are lost, of course, in the photographs.'']

[March16to do April.]

At the Hotel de Lorraine, Rue de Beaune, Paris, where Ellen and I took rooms for several weeks during our two visits to Paris, we lived with James R. Lowell and his wife, and John Holmes, to our great satisfaction. I also received there, one evening, a long and happy visit from Mr. James Cotter Morrison, who writesLife of CondeAt Mr. Laugel, I was introduced to Ernest Renan; to Henry Taine; to Elie de Beaumont; and some other distinguished gentlemen. M. Taine sent me his the next dayLiteraturein five volumes.

The pleasure of traveling is in arriving in a new city, like Paris, or Florence, or Rome, — a sense of free adventure, you have no obligations, — nobody knows you, nobody has rights, you are like a boy in his first visit to the Common on election day. Only the old civilization offers you this huge city, all its wonders, architecture, gardens, decorations, galleries, which never cost you a thought. For the first time in many years you awaken the lord of bright day, in a bright world with no claim on you; - go out just for fun. This abandonment, for the first time, of the wearisome burden of Duty creates, day by day, the health of a new youth.

In Paris, an ordinary passport allows you to enter the vast and expensive public galleries on days when natives of the city cannot pass through the doors. Domestic care you don't have: you dine, lunch or dinner wherever you want and whenever you want: cheap taxis await you at every corner, — guides at every door, magazines of sumptuous goods and attractive decorations, hitherto unknown, beckon your eyes. Your health is improving every day. Every word spoken to you is a wonderful, pleasant puzzle that is a pleasure to solve - a pleasure and pride. Each day's experience is important and offers a conversation for you who have been so silent at home.

[Sir. Emerson was now, as stated above, much improved in health, and his memory and ability to find the right word in conversation had so much returned to normal that he no longer hesitated to go out into society.

He and his daughter arrived in London on Saturday 5th April and settled into comfortable accommodation. They stayed in the city for three weeks. During their previous stay, London had been relatively empty of people they would naturally have seen, but now friends and visitors were more aware and they had little time for sightseeing as they received daily invitations to lunches and dinners. Of course, meeting his oldest and best friend in England was what worried Mr. Emerson. Miss Emerson wrote of the invitation to Carlyle: "He was more gentle and cheerful than he had been a few days ago when Papa walked with him, and Papa was very happy at the recollection of that invitation." Shortly before leaving London, she writes: "Father, after breakfast with Mr. Gladstone, spent the morning with Mr. Carlyle with real pleasure, saw him off, and then went to the Howards' and dined with Mrs. Lewes." ]


I saw the architect Fergusson in London; Browning the poet; John Stuart Mill; Sir Henry Holland; Huxley; Tyndall; Lord Houghton; Mr. Gladstone; Dean Stanley; Lecky; Froude; Thomas Hughes; Lyon Playfair; Sir Arthur helps; Duke of Argyle; Duke of Cleveland; Duke of Bedford; Sir Frederick Pollock; Charles Reade; Mr. Dasent; - I visited Lord Russell at his house with the Amberleys and dined there. I didn't get to see Garth Wilkinson, although I visited him twice, and twice he left his card at my door in my absence. William H. Channing was, as always, a very kind friend. Moncure Conway was unceasing in his attention, and William Allingham gave us excellent assistance. George Howard, who one day I hope will be the Earl of Carlisle, was a very thoughtful and generous friend.

Mr. Thomas Hughes introduced me to the Cosmopolitan Club, which meets every Sunday and Wednesday at 10 o'clock, and there, for two nights, I saw very pleasant gentlemen, Sir Frederick Pollock, Fergusson, Lord Houghton, William Story, and others. Professor Tyndall secured for me the privileges of the Athenæum, which is still the best of London's great clubs; and also Royal Shelley, except in the case of "The Skylark" and perhaps one or two others.

Institution, in Albemarle Street, where he has presided since Faraday's death.

Visited John Forster at his own home, Palace Gate House, Kensington, West.

[From London, Mr. Emerson and his daughter went to Chester for a day or two, as guests of Lord and Lady Amberley, who showed them Tintern Abbey, and thence went to Cyfarthra Castle to visit Mr. and Mrs. Crawshay.]

At Oxford [April 30th to May 3rd] I was invited by Professor Max Müller and met Jowett and Ruskin and Mr. Dodgson, the authorAlice youand many dignitaries of the University. Prince Leopold was a student and he came from Max Müller's lecture to have lunch with us, and then he invited me and Ellen to his house, and there he showed us his pictures and his album, and we had tea there. The next day I listened to Ruskin's lecture and then we went home with Ruskin to his quarters, where he showed us his pictures and told us his sad take on modern society. In the evening we had dinner with Vice Chancellor Liddell and a large group.

[3. On 1 May the Emersons left Oxford for Warwick, where, after seeing the castle, they were received by Mr. E. F. Flower, an old friend, who took them to his home at Stratford-upon-Avon, where they spent ten days.

On Sunday, they were met at the church door by an official who led them to a place in the chancel near Shakespeare's tomb.

Before returning home they made a brief visit to Edinburgh, but there is no record of this in the Diary or letters.

The presence of Mr. Norton and his family helped make the trip home enjoyable. On the morning of Mr. Emerson, his friend met him on deck and placed the following verses in his hands.]

To do R. C. emerson

Blessed among the highest gods are those who die Before youth has fled. For them, their mother Destiny, From the happy land to the happiest sky, Frees life, joy and love from the fear of encounter. But you, revered by men, were blessed by the gods with fruitful years. And yet, for you, in peace, they kept the best of all their gifts; — And you, though full of days, will die young.It could25, 1873. -Charles E. Norton.

[Sir. Emerson landed in Boston on May 27. Before sailing, his house in Concord had been burnt down, and he now looked from the ship across his hometown, which since his departure had been ravaged by fire, to his homeland, where the great establishment of C. F. Hovey & Co. now stay. It was autumn now and the biggest building was moving forward quickly.

When he and his daughter got out of the car in Concord, they were surprised to find a large part of the population gathered to welcome them. They greeted the two returning passengers with cheers, which echoed among the train's passengers as it moved forward. Then, as the assembled family entered the carriages, the local band played, and, accompanied by children from all schools and many friends and neighbors, they walked back home, passing under the welcoming arches. There was the house among the trees, except for the freshness that looked outside and inside as if nothing had happened. Mr. Emerson entered and saw; then he turned, walked quickly to the gate, and uttered as many words of joy and gratitude as his emotions would allow. The laughing crowd dispersed and he re-entered his home to perform his restoration and greet his closest friends.]

Egypt.It seems that they asked Mrs. Helen Bell: "What do you think the Sphinx said to Mr. Emerson?"

“Why,” replied Mrs. Bell, “the Sphinx must have said to him, 'You are the second.'

For writers on religion, - none should speak of this subject polemically: it isGai Scienceand only to be sung by troubadours.

Professor Max Muller dedicated his new book to me and sent me a copy. I have read it, and though I am too stupid a scholar to judge the soundness of its bold conclusions by similar names, or to appreciate it as I have enjoyed his earlier books, I respect and appreciate its scholarship and its results.

[Sir. Emerson was invited to speak at the September opening of the Concord Free Public Library, built and donated to the city by one of his sons, William Munroe. The following passages were written as he prepared for this occasion. The address is printed on

Be a little careful with your library. Do you foresee what you will do with it? Very little, for sure. But the real question is, what will they do with you? You will come here and pick up books that will open your eyes, ears and curiosity and turn you inside out or inside out. Here you will find a book that will give you so much new information about what has recently been seen in observatories of the sun and other stars that you will not rest until you find a telescope to see the eclipse for yourself. "Just the other day they discovered what the stars are made of: what chemical elements, identical to those found on our planet, are found on Saturn; what on the sun; and that human life could not exist on the moon.

They just found out that Italy had people before the Romans, before the Etruscans, who made exactly the arrowheads we found in Concord, and all their tools were of stone: Mr. in Vermont. ; and they find them all over the world - and the world, instead of being six thousand years old, has people for a hundred thousand years.

All new scientific facts are not interesting in themselves, but their greatest value is a rare effect on the mind, an electric shock; every new law of nature speaks of a connected fact in our thinking: for every law of chemistry has some analogy in the soul, and however skilful the chemist may be, and however much he pushes and multiplies his researches, he is a superficial trifle. in the presence of the student who sees the strict analogy of the experiment with the laws of thought and morals.

We read a line, a word that elevates us: we elevate ourselves to a thought that is better than a book. The old saying of Montluc, that "a man is worth a hundred, but a hundred is not one," is equally true of books.

Our reading sometimes feels guided. I open a book that happens to be next to me - a book I hadn't thought of before - and, seeing the name of a famous writer, I sit down to read a chapter, which instantly catches my eye as if it were an important message sent. directly to me.

DarwinovaOrigin of Specieswas published in 1859, but Stallo wrote in 1849: "Animals are but fetal forms of man."

Stallo quotes Liebig as saying, "The secret of all discoverers is that they consider nothing impossible."

"The lines of our descent connect with all phenomena in the material world." —STALLO.

Theology mysteries.Our theology ignores the worshiper's identity; in another he fell, in another he rises. Can identity be claimed for a being whose life is so often vicarious or belongs to an era or generation?

Harvard Faculty.My new term as superintendent began at the end of Graduation Day 1873 and ends at the end of Graduation Day 1879.

Life."We have not considered what life is in the particular case - the pleasant habit of working and doing, as Goethe calls it - the constant and incessant influence of sensation on bodily comfort." — HEGEL,alreadyVarnhagen.

[The second half of the year Mr. Emerson passed peacefully in Concord, except for a visit to his daughter, Mrs. Forbes and her husband in Naushon. Since the English publisher with whom he negotiated and, as it were, forced an agreement on the new volume (only suspended because of his illness), died, this matter did not concern him.

On December 16, the centenary of the "Boston Tea Party", Mr. Emerson completed his poem "Boston", on which he had meditated for so long, and, upon request, read it at a celebration in Faneuil Hall.]


[Most of the authors mentioned in this list are included because Mr. Emerson has met them on his recent travels, mostly in England.]

Kalevalaof the Finns; Edward, Lord Herbert,Autobiography;gentlemen,Ancestral World, Egypt;Hegel; Stendhal (M. H. Bayle); Sir Henry Holland; Elie de Beaumont; Thomas Carlyle; Conde Russell; Jorge Bancroft; Ricardo Owen; Liebig; Francisco W.

Novi čovjek; J. S. Mill; James Fergusson; R. M. Milnes; Gladstone; Charles Darwin; vice-kancelar Liddell; Dekanska crkva; Roberto Browning; J. J. Garth Wilkinson; dr. W.B. Carpenter; Charles Reade; Daniel Kirkwood,kites eu meteors;Dean Stanley; Henry Lewes e Gja Lewes (George Eliot); Sir Arthur pomaže; Jowett; Presente; Turgénieff; Froude; William W. Priča; Lyon Playfair; Ruskin; J. R. Lowell; Alexander C. Fraser; Thomas Hughes; Max Muller; Stallo; vojvoda od Argylea; Sir Frederick Pollock; dr. Hinton; Ernesto Renan; Charles G. Leland; Huxley,To lie down Sermons;Charles E. Norton; William Allinghani; Moncure D. Conway; Herman Grimm; Tainá; Canonical Liddon; Charles Cvijet; Professor Lecky; Smalley.








em 1874

(From ST Journal)

[No longer engaged in distant lectures, but at home with his family, Mr. Emerson spent his days in his office reviewing sheets of unprinted manuscripts, which might or might not serve for occasional lectures or speeches, selecting and planning their use, but with little progress, as arranging the sibylline sheets, always difficult, was now almost impossible. . He barely noticed, but he wasn't under pressure and so unencumbered. He liked to read; he continued his solitary walk in the afternoon and took advantage of his monthly gathering with his friends to dine at the Sabbath Club.

The magazine was almost completely neglected. The following entry is the first, and it must have been towards the end of March, after he had received the letter from Judge Hoar which follows.] in the dark times of 1850, and to see the position of Boston and its prominent men.


Sumner is dead, as the telegraph will tell you before you receive this. He died thirteen minutes before three in the afternoon. I held his hand when he died; and, apart from his secretary and the doctor, he was the only one of his close friends in the room.

His last words (apart from saying "Sit down" to Mr. Hooper, who came to his bed but left before his death) were these: "Judge, tell Emerson how much I love and adore him." I replied: “He once said about you that he never knew youBrancobath."

During the morning, he repeated to several people, including me: "You have to take care of the Civil Rights Act". That was his last public thought.

With much sadness and love,

— E. R. HOAR.

[Sir. Emerson, when asked for some suitable lines to be read or printed in connection with Senator Sumner, took them from his poem in memory of his own brother, Edward Bliss Emerson. (See “In Memoriam E.B.E.”,Songs.)]

All the innate power that could

It is a tribute to the good

A flame from his fighting eye;...

Before the enemies of God and man,

Frowning at the villain,

The fight for the weak and the poor.

Your look of a leader of your youth

Gave the law that others took,

And never a poor pleading look

Embarrassed by that chiseled face.

[The following are two notices from early and valuable friends who died around this time. Mr. Abel Adams, of the firm Barnard and Adams, was a parishioner and neighbor of Mr. Emerson at his home in Chardon Street. He was also his business adviser and was so alarmed at the poor outcome of the Vermont venture and the Canadian Railway stock that he insisted on bearing Edward Emerson's college expenses, which was a great help to Mr. the war. .]

I must have many notes of my pleasant memories of Abel Adams, one of my best friends, whose hospitable home was always open to me day and night for so many years in Boston, Lynn, or West Roxbury. I've always been interested in his business experiences. I think I have recorded somewhere the fact, which I remember today, that he told me that he and two or three merchants had counted, at the Globe Bank, out of a hundred merchants in Boston, how many of them had never failed. , and they could only name three. Abel Adams was a benefactor to Edward W. E. in college and to all of us in his last will and testament.

September (?).

The death of Francis Cabot Lowell is a great loss for me. Now, fifty-seven years since we entered college together, we are friends, we meet sometimes rarely, sometimes often; we rarely live in the same city, we were always happy to meet on plain old terms. He was conservative, I always of speculative habits; and many times in the irreversible politics of recent years we have had to compare our different opinions. He was a homely gentleman, completely honest and purposeful, always open, considerate and kind. In all matters his opinion was his and deliberately formed. One day he came to Concord to read to me some opinions he had written of the education now given at Cambridge. He didn't leave me a paper and I'm sorry I can't remember its contents. No matter how different they were from him, he always inspired respect and love. I never met a simpler, truer man.

I have long been happy to hear from Dr. Hobbs about Waltham, which I never heard from himself - the story of Lowell's relationship with Chemical Mills in Waltham. His father, Mr. Frank Lowell, Sr., founded them, and his son inherited an important interest in them. For whatever reason, the property has unfortunately fallen into disrepair. But Mr. Lowell took charge of them personally, studied chemistry with direct reference to the work done in this factory, became master of all the necessary processes; bugs fixed; and, in spite of all advice, he remained there till his depreciated stock reached face value; he then sold his shares in the property and retired. A man of quiet inner life, quiet and serious, but with opinions and goals that he kept silent and expressed openly, when asked for his opinion; -kindly, but with a lot of will and perseverance he finally managed to achieve what he wanted. Mr. Henry Lee Higginson told me how scrupulously honest he was, how slow he was in exercising his right to mortgages, the terms of which were not respected. Mr. H. found him romantically sincere. And his truth was of the same sort. He told me, at his house, that several gentlemen expressed their pleasure in being his guests, when his club met there lately; and this led him to say that he did not believe he had expressed to any man more respect for that person than he really felt. Precise and literal in business and relationships, he was the most tender father, and his children's children filled the house with joy.

His generosity was silent but sure and effective. Very strict in its direction, but generous in quantity. He was a friend in distress, silent but sure, and the figure of the giver added rare value to the gift, like an angel bringing you gold. I can say this when I remember the fact that the day after my house burned down, he came to Concord to express his sympathy for my misfortune, and a few days later he surprised me with a generous donation from him and his children, which was away to rebuild it.

In college, I remember well the youthful innocence when we first met; - and never lost the perfect simplicity of his manners. However, many years later, I remember well that when we were together to witness the wedding in the Chapel of Stone, my wife asked who was the gentleman who was at my side and who looked like a king; I was impressed with the perception.

I am very fond of the photograph taken of Rowse's drawing of his head, which is a striking likeness, a gift to me from his daughter, Georgina Lowell. His daughter tells me that he thought he wasn't interested in his acquaintances. I believe he always had their full respect and loving friendship.

Happy by birth and education, always used to living in high society, he was never confused by the interest and neighborhood of others, but remained as independent in his thoughts as if he lived alone.


Monday at night,November.

The secret of poetry is never explained - it's always new. We are nothing more than mere admiration for the delicacy of the touch and the eternity it inherits. In every house a child utters prophecies in mere play, and does not know they are such. It's as easy as breathing. 'T is like the gravity that holds the universe together, and nobody knows what it is.

the arch is the father of the vault, the vault is the father of the dome." —EDWARD A. FREEMAN.

The boy became a man and never asked questions, because every problem quickly developed its own law.

[In the spring, Mr. Emerson was surprised by an invitation from the Independent Club of the University of Glasgow to accept his nomination as a candidate for the office of Lord Chancellor that year, the office including the annual address. Mr. Emerson was pleased with the praise and, after some consideration and consultation with close friends, sent in his acceptance, but with little expectation of election – especially as Disraeli was the Conservative student body candidate. The campaign, as demonstrated by the manifestos, poems, etc., constantly sent to Mr. Emerson by its enthusiastic supporters, was performed with great spirit and enthusiasm. He was informed of the result in November. He received over five hundred votes and Disraeli was elected rector by a majority of around two hundred votes.

In December, a collection of poems,Parnassus,published, which owes its existence to the urgency and activity for several years of Mr. Emerson. She loved listening to her father read poems and fragments collected over the years in his "Black Anthology" (so named because of the leather cover) and others. As his favorites were often hard to find, especially those of the older poets, and not in the collections that were at hand, the idea of ​​publishing such a volume pleased him, when it was suggested, and he said, and, when he was forced again the following year, he repeated: "We have to do it." Then the zealous schoolgirl began to take advantage of opportunities to bring volumes of poets to her father's study and insist on her choice, and she herself began to copy the favorites. This continued for several years until she became Mrs. Forbes, and so whenever she was with her father in Milton or Concord, she was able to draw attention to the work and copy it herself. Thus, when the lecture stopped, there was more time to follow the selection. It must also be said that Mr. Emerson has become less precise in his criticisms of recent verse. In the preface of kParnassusin the first paragraph he gives an account of his choice of poems from his youth, followed by a short essay on poets.]


Alexis,lines already Sleep;Plotinus; dr. Charles R. Lowell; Charles Sumner; Edward A. Freeman,Cathedral Architecture;William Morris,Introduction to do o land Raj;Charles Warren Stoddard; Tito M. Coan,

O Madeira of Life.








em 1875

(From ST Journal)

[The flame of Mr. Emerson, weak for the past three years, has now flickered into extinction in this year's and next year's papers. However, the work instinct remained and he spent most of his days in his office still working on organizing his manuscripts, his daughter Ellen helping him as much as she could. Last year he had thought of who should look after his manuscripts when he was away, and Mr. Cabot was mentioned with longing, but he found the favor so great that he did not dare ask his friend for it. But now the case became urgent, as the promised book was wanted by the heirs of the English publishers, who had first broken Mr. Emerson threatening to confiscate the ancient book.To chooseRejected, non-copyrighted works and other material. So, with the permission of Mr. Emerson, the matter was referred to Mr. Cabot for consideration. He graciously agreed to give what help he could, and thus lifted the last burden from Mr. Emerson. The relief was complete and made the remaining years happy. He was finally able to see and approach the friend he had cherished for years. The frequent visits of Mr. Cabot, often for several days in a row, were a great pleasure. How big is Mr. Cabot in press preparationcards eu Social Goalshe said with all sincerity in the preface to that volume. Mr. Emerson supplied the subject - almost all of it written years earlier - but Mr. Cabot the arrangement and much of the selection. Everything was submitted for approval by Mr. Emerson, but he always referred to the volume to his friend as "his his book". Earlier in the year, his friend from his Boston student days, Dr. William H. Furness, wrote to him imploring him to accept an invitation to teach in Philadelphia and be his guest. In a proposal letter in response, delivered in full to Mr. Cabotmemoirs,Mr. Emerson writes: “Well, what shall I say in defense of your monotonous silence to which you allude? Why, just this: ... that the gods gave you a little of their eternal chalice, and withheld the same from me. For the last two years I haven't written anything in my old diary manuscripts; and never a letter I could omit... Now comes your new letter with all your tender memories and preferences fresh as roses... I must hear it. My daughter Ellen, who always follows my antiques, insists we will... My love to Sam Bradford.” They left and the other three from the game happily gathered.

On March 18, Mr. Emerson gave a lecture in Boston on "True Oratory," probably much like the chapter on "Eloquence" incards eu Social Goals.

On April 19, the city celebrated the centenary of the Fight for Concord. President Grant and the members of his cabinet were present, the governors of all the New England states with their respective charters, the general court of Massachusetts, eminent New England writers, and an immense multitude of people. At the end of the North Bridge (newly built for the occasion), where the American forces were, a bronze Minute Man, made by Daniel C. French, was placed, and when the crowd arrived, Mr. Emerson revealed it and gave a short speech, the last of which was already composed. Then, in the tent behind him, Lowell and Curtis recited a wonderful Ode and Address.

Mr. Emerson was not included in theIt works.Can be found in Boston newspapers the next dayCommonwealthaApril 27, and in the Concord pamphlet recording that celebration.]

In 1775, patriotism in Massachusetts was so hot that the snow melted and the rye waved on April 19th. Our farmers have never seen this so soon. The very air and soil felt the wrath of the people.

It so happens that the short limit of human life is established in relation to the instructions that man can extract from Nature. No one lived long enough to exhaust its laws.

The delicacy of touch and the eternity it inherits —

In every house a child utters prophecies in mere play, and he doesn't know they are such: 'It's as easy as breathing. 'T is like the gravity that holds the universe together, and nobody knows what it is.

[It should be mentioned that Mr. Emerson was named a member of the subcommittee on philosophy at Harvard University that year.]

“Eichhorn would increase the order of studies and the establishment of rigor in our universities. Others agreed. Then Schleiermacher simply said, he did not see how each one had to prescribe the way in which he arrived at his knowledge: the routine in our ways of learning was so destroyed, rules of all kinds so heaped up, that nothing seemed better to him than what to do but to overthrow all universities. 'And what to put in their place?', they asked, 'That would be found immediately, and rightly so,' replied Schleiermacher." —VARNHAGEN VON ENSE.Blatter of o Prussian History,v, 44.

December5, 1875.

Thomas Carlyle's 80th birthday.


gibbons,Refuse eu Cushion of o romano Empire;Eichhorna in SchleiermacheraalreadyYon Tense; Carlos Levigne,EU Doctor of Blade.










(From ST Journal)

On Saturday, February 5, he received a package in the mail with a silver medal, on one side with Carlyle's profile, with the name "Thomas Carlyle" written on it; on the other hand,

"In celebration

1875. December 4«.

The attached card reads: "R. To W. Emerson by Alexander Macmillan” [London]; for what a welcome and precious gift, I want to immediately write my thanks to the kind sender.

[In March, Mr. Emerson gave a talk in Lexington. An invitation from the Washington and Jefferson Literary Societies of the University of Virginia to deliver a speech at their opening pleased him as a sign from the South, and he accepted, and went with his daughter to Charlottesville in June. He was hospitably received and there he read "The Scholar" (d.Speeches eu Biographical sketches).

On 8 November, at a meeting of the Latin School Association in Boston, celebrating the 100th anniversary of the reopening of the school after the evacuation of the city by the British, he gave his fond memories of his school days. His remarks were published in a Boston newspaper the next day.

The diary of a year, barely begun - or rather a diary of more than half a century - closes with a poem by William Allingham, sent and signed by the author, whom Mr. Emerson cherished, shut up among the sheets. It might seem like a grateful acknowledgment from the student to the teacher.]


What is the artist's duty?

His work, however performed,

Shape, color, word or tone

Is to make it better known

(Divinely taught me),

Elogie and celebrated,

because your love is great,

a wonderful miracle

Universal Beauty.

He would say this message.

This message is your trust,

In the midst of the day's hard struggle,

with all my heart and soul,

With all your skill and strength

Looking for an extensive addition, -

(Because he can and should, — )

some atom of the whole

Man's inheritance;

Let the elegance seem,

A little wealth to live on.

If he has to deal with force

I break and suffer

With horror and food,

He does this for our benefit;

He feels a mighty course

By law - whose atmosphere

It is beauty and pleasure;

No, that's his source.

Your work, no matter how small,

Well-balanced, -

even like a globe

In a softly blackened shell

Donate. Your magic brings

The mystery of things;

It gives wings to dead matter;

It shows a little, a lot;

And with a deft touch

It conveys a hint of everything.

(From books of uncertain date)

[Sir. Emerson, for all the temperamental difficulties he encountered in arranging the abundant materials obtained from nature and man, had a kind of business method in his bookkeeping. In addition to his diaries — diary books — he also had several books that could be called books, in which he irregularly copied or annotated good material according to subject. Such were IL (Intellect), PY (Poetry), PH (Philosophy), LI (Literature), TO (Tolerance?) and others less easy to guess.

The editors have ventured to give here some closing passages, of uncertain date, from some of these manuscripts, which are not found in the journal selection, or in

(the PH)

Idealism.Is it considered that reducing the Divine mode of existence to the state of ideas means deducing with the hand of idealism and giving up the logic of the Universe? We are mammals of a higher element, and just as a whale must rise to the surface of the water to breathe, we must rise to the surface of the air from time to time to think.

The lodestar for gathering and using facts is your guiding thought. The sky of intellect is deeply lonely, it is not profitable, people must despise and reject it. If I remember the happiest hours of existence, those that truly make a person a prisoner of a better world, it is a solitary and indescribable joy, but it is a door that leads to joys that neither ear has heard nor eye has seen.

All mind power is good in itself; like perception or memory: but first we feel the wonder when these powers combine or interact. Mathematical combinations are powerful only in the first degree, until they are united by a strong memory; then you have Archimedes and Laplace.

Sensitivity.The poorest place has all the wealth of the richest, so genius comes... Oh, I can call your attention to your society by whispering to you its immense wealth of nature and possibility of genius. There are people who could sit on the throne of this globe without true or false shame.

The property of the Universe is space and matter; the owner is the Intellect, and what belongs to the Intellect, the Will or Good Will.

Not normal Rescue.William Blake, Swedenborg, Behmen, and some other men of abnormal experience, - as, for example, some farsighted seers or dreamers or reliable seers who are informed in one country of the death or danger of their twin or brother in another (if any once can prove facts of this kind), - each is an important example for the metaphysician; Blake [also], who claimed to have seen no phenomenon, such as a marble, a harp, or a cloud, but always looked through it and saw its meaning. The Zoroasters and Sybils and Oracles to whom we owe some of the deepest sentences are essential parts of our knowledge of the human mind, or the possible omniscience (latent except for these flashes) of the intellect. Hindu specimens have their value. Each of these minds is a new key to the Mind's secret.

Miracle.The most advanced man in his most advanced moment - thinking of himself and Nature - sees how rude and stupid he is, how the Cause and Necessity are completely unknown, - his roots and future completely unknown, - a giant's dream .

Prediction.I think we correct our metaphysics not by analytical examination but by sympathy and pity. Thus Hegel and Kant were made possible by the extraordinary richness of all the natural sciences, which awakened and tested all the faculties of thought, so that subtler differences could be felt and expressed.

The analysis of intellect and nature attempted by the great masters, Heraclitus, Parmenides, Plato, Spinoza, Hume, Kant, Schelling, Hegel, is of prime value to science, like the works of the great geometers and mathematicians, and cannot be spared. or over-praised: they are dear to us as a confirmation of the sufficiency of the intellect and a guarantee of future progress. To the scholar they seem to degrade all inferior and less ambitious observations as unnecessary and worthless. They freeze your invention and hope. They writeE more ultrato the vertiginous summit to which his almost winged steps climbed in the thin air.

They marked once and for all the differences inherent in a healthy mind and which we must respect from now on.

The instinct that led Heraclitus, Parmenides and Lucretius to write in verse was just, however imperfect their success. The world is so crowded that it is not surprising that there is not yet a painter, not even a Homer of our thought, far superior to the Homer of Greek thought.

There is no age for intellect. Read Plato at twenty or sixty, the impression is more or less the same.

The thinker's joy in discovering his mistakes:

—— I enjoyed more, in the last few hours of finishing the chapter, the insight gained into how the truths really stood, than I suffered seeing the confusion I left in the statement.

Inspiration.Our music box only plays certain tunes, and seldom a sweeter tune: but we are convinced that our barrel is not dead but alive, no, it is only a part of the tune, and therefore it changes. The wider dialectic conveys a sense of power and a sense of terror of the unknown; and Henry Thoreau said, "the thought would destroy most men," but we apologize for power and bow to the people.

I want an electric machine. The power of the dream we have, but not excited, collected and discharged. If I must be honest, I must say that my investigation of life presents little or no respectable event or action, or, in me, personality. Too complex to offer positive unity: but it is reception, perception. And I, and people much weaker (if possible) than me, who are only considered imbeciles, still confirm the presence and perfection of the Law with our perception, just like all the martyrs.

A man's style is the voice of his mind. Wooden minds, wooden voices. The truth is loud like fifa, diverse like a panharmonic.

Transition.Transition from the organic destiny of the mind.

The value of the trope is that the listener is one. 'T is a great law of nature, that the more passages, the more continuity; or, we are immortal by the force of transit. We seek the same selfish immortality. Nature responds by drowning us in the sea that envelops the seven worlds and frees us all. At any step, one pitch higher. What we call the Universe today is just a symptom or omen of what we are heading towards. Every atom is on its way. The universe revolves in thought. Every thought is fleeting. Our power is in transition, they say that there is a certain infinite power that is used for us in the press of power.

It's not just your talent, it's your spirit. It is easy to give your own color or character to any assembly if your spirit is better than that of the speaker. [My brother] Edward, with his wit, never failed to check any cheating with morality in his presence. It is impossible to break Divine Order without resistance, and people's remorse, anger, indecision, violence and flight into solitude are threats and retreats.

The wonder of the world in good times - I can say it whenever we come back from the street - is that so many people of various talents, including people with distinct special abilities, do not recognize the ultimate value of character. In the story, we fully appreciate this. We all read Plutarch with one accord and on the side of Agesilaus in Sparta, with Aristides, Phocion, Demosthenes in Athens, with Epaminondas in Thebes, and we wonder how the Athenians could be so foolish as to make a decision like the Creons against these tough, fair and noble heroes. In Rome we again give the vote to Scipio, Regulus, Paulus Æmilius and Cato, and Trajan and Marcus Aurelius against their dissolute rivals. In England we know the value of Sidney, Alfred, More, Burke. In America, we see the purity and extraordinary grandeur of Washington. And at this moment, in the English minister at the head of the Government, we see enormous comfort and confidence in a competent minister with a high and impeccable character.

Nature.The secret of nature shines today with all eyes, that is, that its hidden meaning overshadows all its wonders in the face of the grandeur to which it leads us. Because it informs man that he is speaking with reality, with the cause of causes, and his most beautiful images are only part of an immense procession of effects.

One eu Nature.The emphasis of heaven and earth is placed on this (unity). Nature is cruel, but how she revives it - just language, a noun, for a poet. Nature is always an effect; Pay attention to an ongoing cause. We discover that nature is like our sensibility; hostile to ignorance, - plastic, transparent, wonderful to knowledge. The mind contains the law; History is a slow, atomic unfolding: the Universe ultimately only prophetic, or, as it were, symptomatic of a wider interpretation and outcome.

(From to)

It is good that Hegel "did not dare expound or pursue the astonishing revolutionary conclusions" of his own method, but nevertheless the Young Hegelians completed the work, so that quickly, in all areas of life, in the natural sciences, politics, ethics, laws, and in art the strict dogma of immanent necessity has exterminated all the old tremulous and shadowy forms. It's like Goethe and Wordsworth giving up their poetry.

Space must be left for skepticism. It has always been used that certain warrior minds have a suicidal talent, a talent for stinging scorpions, because, it is said, the gastric juices sometimes eat the stomach: so that these also have the whim to go after institutions and seek the foundation. of fundamentals, "my guide's guide," as M.R. asked me. And there is, as my brother Edward said, in childhood there is always "another way"; or, as Shakespeare says, “The plague of thought! a man can wear it on both sides, like a leather jacket.

Everyone is falling apart; each of them has his selfishness, or mania, or gluttony, or vulgarity, or flattery of some kind, just as he has his rheumatism, or scrofula, or sixth finger, or other defect in his body. All I want is your sense, your uniqueness of insight, your fluency, your sense; and I would as much think to ask about the watchman's old shoes as about his gluttony, or his debts, or his conceit, or any infirmities. "Did the soldiers carry a battery?"

"Sir, here is the list of wounded."

“Take it to the surgeon. Did they carry a battery?vivid o

Exceptions are always admitted, who, by the strong appeal of nature, [haunt] the shores of the lake, groping for plants (like Bishop Turpin for the talisman that Charlemagne threw into the lake): or, lost in the attraction of colors, mix the pigments on the palette; or to study surfaces and cloaks and runes on shells, whatever France, England or Prussia, or what Pope, Emperor, Congress or Stock Exchange may do; or Carnot buried in his mathematics; or Kant in his ascent from circle to circle on the rungs of the mysterious ladder which is the ladder of metaphysical powers. They are always justified sooner or later: point by point, every noisy political or interest struggle is truly