Amos Bronson Alcott - Ralph Waldo Emerson Philosopher and Seer, 1889

.

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http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022107662

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

ESTIMATE OF

AJi/

ms CHARACTER AND

GENIUS

3n ^ro0c an& (Peree

A.

BRONSON ALCOTT

ILLUSTRATED

LONDON ELI,K)T STOCK,

62

PATERNOSTER ROW,

E.

C

"JZofTTE^ Y&g ol id nEip&VTa dgi/u/ima dalkdv ^ rtva xagnov nQooslovieg Hyovat, oi e/iol Xdyovg oBtco nqo-

islvcov

aixaaav

ev

^iยงi.toig

xa'i

ojiot

Tjiv

te 'Atxixtiv

&v dXkoaE

<palvai

Plato, Phcsdr.

" For as

men

me

p. 230

D.

lead hungry creatures by holding out

a green bough or an apple, so you,

might lead

nBQi&^e.iv

^oiXj],

about

all

Attica

you please, by holding toward

me

it

would seem,

and wherever

else

discourses out of

your books."

Plato.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON TO

MARY

STEARNS.

E.

Concord,

My

July

5,

1865.

dear Mrs. Stearns.

The gift of the birthday was truly a " surprise."

There lay a more beautiful book than Aldus or Elzevir ever made, slipped into the house as carelessly as a roseleaf or a dandelion-down blown in at the window.

Mr. Alcott'snote indicated a "friend," without naming

him or

her.

And when

I

came

to read the text, that,

was such a Persian superlative on the poor merits of the subject, that I had to shade my eyes as if to too,

accept only a part of the meaning. belief in

my good

suffered

more than

admire the

sense,

if I

I enjoyed

lyrical tone

of

may shake your know but I

I

say I don't ;

but

all this

I

soon came

to

remarkable writing,

inspired by the most generous sentiment, fortified, too, by the wish to convey the good-will of other friends who made him their spokesman. So I made a cove-

nant with myself to join these friends in ignoring the infirm actuaUty, stoutly holding

up the

ideal outline of

VI the poor

man we were

talking of.

And now

I

have

learned to look at the book with courage, and at least to

thank the friends who jointly completed

it,

very

and exquisite work of kindness.

I have been twice tempted to send you some verses on this occasion, as they would be really more fit carriers of what I have to say ; and perhaps I yet shall, though the rhyming fit seldom comes to me.

Ever gratefully.

Your deeply obliged, heartily, for this rare

R. Mrs.

Mary

E. Stearns.

W. EMERSON.

PUBLISHERS' PREFACE.

The publishers have here presented a book about Emerson, written by the one man who stood nearest to him of all men ; one from whom he drew inspiration in generous measure, and to whom, in return, he without reserve his inmost

discovered

book cannot

fail

to

be an

tion to Emersoniana.

original

Not

to

and

self.

Such a

vital contribu-

read

it,

is

to

miss

a clear and searching exegesis of one whose name has It been called the greatest in American literature. a portrait of one of the old masters, painted by

is like

own brush.

The introductory sonnet

his

a

lofty key,

and condenses

to

Emerson

is

pitched in

into fourteen pithy lines a

statement of the author's life-long debt Of friendship

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; material

and

spiritual.

The

essay itself was

written twenty-odd years ago, while Mr. Alcott was still

in the full vigor of his intellect.

It

was privately

and presented to Emerson on his birthday.

A limited edition was published for the first time in 1882, and readily sold. The revision and reading of the proof-sheets of this edition was the last literary printed,

Vlll

work which Mr. Alcott did, previous to the stroke of paralysis which deprived him of the perfect control >of his faculties, and kept him a prisoner in his room ever afterward.

It was a work occupying several months, as the octogenarian's

visits to

Boston were

somewhat infrequent, and often including other business.

Such moments as he could give were, of course, valuable ; and the publishers, at whose suggestion the work was undertaken, would meet him, now in the topmost story of some lofty building, and now in some dim-lighted basement, where together they would go

over the unfinished sheets,

nonce,

all

— time

gliding

by

for the

unheeded.

So anxious was Mr. Alcott that

work on Emer-

his

son should some day be given to the world, that grasp of "

many

things,

after

memory had lost its and among others, of his recent

when

his paralytic shock,

his

—

on his newly published book, a copy of which he had not seen, he still remembered his former labors

—

earnest wish that

one of

it

his friends,

should be

who

made

public.

And

to

spent several hours with him

each week, he remarked with much excitement, on two or three occasions, that his essay must be brought out at once ; insisting that it should be published in the philosophical magazine which his friend edited.

copy of the book was brought to him, greatly and delight. This is all the more touching an incident of his friendship for the great Finally a

to his astonishment

IX

Emerson, when

it

is

remembered

than once said that " survived him, since

it

that the latter

would be a pity

if

more

Alcott

he alone possessed the means

of showing to the world what Alcott really was."

(Cabot's

Memoir of Emerson,

vol.

i.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

p. 281.)

The book also contains Alcott's " Ion a Monody," read by him at the Concord School of Philosophy, and to which Mr. John Albee, in " The New- York Tri:

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

bune," paid the following high praise for

:

"

It

continues

us that tender strain bequeathed by Moschus's

'

Lament

'

Adonais

for Bion,' Milton's ; '

but

it

'

Lycidas,'

and

Shelley's

has a pathos and. beauty

all

its

tone and in art."

Mr. Sanborn's ode to Emerson, " The Poet's Coun-

own,

.

.

.

faultless in

Concord School, completes makes a worthy addition to that lofty

tersign," also read at the

the volume, arid

form of verse that has enriched the ages,

from Pindar to Tennyson.

literatures of all

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Portrait of Ralph

Waldo Emerson ) V

Portrait of A. Bronson Alcott Emerson's House at Concord Emerson's Summer House

.

.

.

Frontispieces

) i

56

The Summer School of Philosophy

59

Mr. Alcott's Study

67

Bridge at Concord

8i

CONTENTS. Page.

I

Essay '^

Monody Odk

^' .

.

.

;

Misfortune to have lived not knowing thee 'T were not high

Who, dwelling Rich

To Thy

nor to noblest end,

near, learned not sincerity,

friendship's

life

living,

!

ornament that

doth lend

still

consequence and propriety.

its

my

fellowship was

culture, noble friend

!

By

the hand thou took'st me, and did'st condescend

To

bring

And By

life-long

straightway into thy fair guild

hath

that to have

Given

Permit

it

been high compliment

been known, and thy friend

to rare thought

Whilst in

A

me

my

me

straits

and

to

good learning bentj

an angel on

then, thus honored,

scholar in thy university.

styled.

me

still

smiled.

to be

iiWEKMJN's HiilsE

surprise

and

delight.

And

good

all

epic

poets were thought to compose, not by

and

choice, but

by

good

poets drew, they

lyric

inspiration

;

so, too, the

us, "

tell

from

fountains flowing with nectar, and gathered

the gardens and glades of

flowers from

the Muses; they, like bees, being ever on

wing.

the

For

the poet was a

thing

light-winged and sacred, unable to com-

pose until he became inspired, and the imagination was no longer under his control.

For as long as he was

plete

possession

to

of

compose verses or

And hence all by them, not

he was

it,

in

comunable

to speak oracularly."

noble numbers were credited

to the poet

whom

but to the Power working

in

they knew,

and through

3

him, and making auditors

him the most delighted of

whenever he chanted

his verses,

because he did not conceive them to be

He was

his.

Hence the value they

Nine.

the

upon

the Voice, the favored of

The

divination.

must be most

the

as

discipline

means of poetic they

poet,

virtuous.

conceived,

was

It

essential

he be chaste,

to his accomplishment that

he be gentle, that he be noble

that

generation, that his

endowment be

than

himself;

he

race

of

culture

ideas

him his

of

that

pure souls, in

his

ages

to conceive

descend

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; bring

descent in

by

his

set

older

from a

centuries of

among

brain,

instinct,

in his

men,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; enabling and

speak

experiences unconsciously, as a child

4 opens

his

lips,

his

in

most

rapturous

Therefore, any pretence of own-

accents.

the gift was esteemed

ership in

an im-

For a prayer, a song, a tender

piety.

a

tone,

glance

of

the

eye,

all

those

magnetic attractions known to friendship,

had a

primarily, as their Is

perspiially,

we became worthy

pf being

organs. it

an egotism

England and parts

were ours

like ancestry;

in

for a

us to claim for

Nfw

contemporary of purs

and antecedents

like these ? or shall

such endowments, admirable always, and

awakening enthusiasm, be the

when represented

in a

less prized

countryman of

purs,

and when we have so frequently partaken of

the

pleasure

which

his

books,

his

.

5

lectures

excite?

especially,

A

Emerson.

course,

to

genius,

and

I

allude, of

rhapsodist

by

his

his

the chief of

class,

utterances are ever a surprise as they are

a delight to his audiences these are, and not

all

select

;

though

unworthy of him.

Hear how Goethe describes him, where his

in

letters

rhapsodist

"A

to

who,

in

calm his auditors,

He

it

in

excite

;

his

than to

order that they shall

him with contentment and long.

apportions

cause

the

calm thought-

shows what has happened

discourse aiming less to

listen to

calls

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

wise man,

fulness,

he

Schiller,

is

the

interest

equally,

be-

not in his power to balance a

too lively impression.

He

grasps back-

— 6

wards and forwards

at

He

pleasure.

do with

followed, because he has only to

the imagination, which of

and up

images, is

indifferent

to

produces

itself

degree,

a certain

what kind he

is

calls up.

it

He

does not appear to his auditors, but

were behind a curtain

cites, as it is

;

re-

so there

a total abstraction from himself, and

seems

to

them

as

it

though they heard only

the voice of the Muses."

See our Ion standing dience,

himself an

Genius

he

manuscript,

his

auditor,

sitting

as

there,

—

his

before

au-

him,

he reads, of the

behind him, and to

whom

defers, eagerly catching the words,

the words,

—

reaching

his

as

if

ears

the accents were too,

and

—

first

entrancing

7

alike oracle

and

We

auditor.

admire the

stately sense, the splendor of diction,

as

surprised

are

hesitancy

we

between

Even

listen.

the

and

delivery

his

of

his

periods, his perilous passages from para-

graph

to

paragraph

of

have almost learned to

we

manuscript,

like, as if

he were

but sorting his keys meanwhile for opening his cabinets; the spring of locks

fol-

lowing, himself seeming as eager as any

of us

to get sight

of his specimens, as

they come forth from their proper drawers

;

and we wait willingly

out glittering; scarcely less

admire

till

the

than the jewel

magic minstrel and speaker oric,

!

his

gem

is

setting,

too,

itself.

The

whose

voiced as by organ-stops,

rhet-

delivers

8

from

sentiment

the

dences ing

peculiar

as his

mood and

in

now

himself;

to

on the

forth

it

breast

his

ca-

hurl-

echoing; then,

ear,

matter invite

dying

it,

like " Music of mild lutes

Or Or

coated

flutes.

the concealing winds that can convey

Never

He

silver

their tone to the rude ear of day."

works

Hermes

did,

his his

with

miracles

conducting

voice

sense alike to eye and ear by

movement and

it,

its

refraining melody.

as

the

lyrical

So

his

compositions affect us, not as logic linked in

syllogisms,

but as voluntaries rather,

or preludes, in which one

any design of

air,

but

or note at pleasure, as

is

not tied to

may vary if

his

key

improvised with-

out any particular scope of argument period, each

note

in

being a

however

itself,

chime with piece; as

paragraph,

may chance

it

dazzles

by

circuits,

His rhet-

Imagination, as in

sprightly

;

minds,

being his wand of power.

ways

in his

he build

his

his

own

own

piers

all

He

and

paths, too,

fashion.

an-

contrasts,

titheses

comes along

the

in

of wandering stars, a

a waltz

dance of Hesperus with Orion. oric

each

perfect

accompaniments

its

;

al-

What though

downwards from the

firmament to the tumbling

and so

tides,

throw his radiant span across the fissures of his

argument, and himself pass over

the frolic arches, less

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Ariel-wise, â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

admirable, the

masonry

is

the

less

skill

secure

lO for

its

So

singularity?

his

books

are

best read as irregular writings, in which the sentiment

is,

by

his enthusiasm, trans-

fused throughout the piece, telling on the

mind

in

cadences of a current under-song,

and giving the impression of a connected whole

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; which

it

seldom

rhapsodist's cunning

is,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; such

the

is

in its structure

and

delivery.

The highest compliment we can pay the scholar

instructed us,

the

that of having edified

is

we know

and

not how, unless by

pleasure his words

have given

Conceive how much the Lyceum owes his presence

debt of

and teachings

many

to

him

to

;

for

how

us.

to

great the

their

hour's

II

entertainment.

His,

any

if

institution pass into history,

more than

another's, has

beauty, and

made

resort,

it

our purest

entertainment for

Western

cities.

one's, let the''

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; since

clothed

his art, it

with

the place of popular

organ

of

intellectual

New England and

And, besides

the

this, its im^j

mediate value to his auditors everywhere, it

has been serviceable

in

ways they

least

suspect; most of his works, having had their first readings

on

its

platform, were

here fashioned and polished in good part, like Plutarch's Morals, to

acceptable

to

readers

become the more

of

his

published

books.

And

is

not the

omen

auspicious, that

just now, during these winter evenings, at

;

12

the

opening of

this

Sundays have come round again tropoHs,

eager,

words.

Does

touches

?

He

of

as it

Ms

victorious year,

to

old,

matter what

adorns

all

with

the me-

;

hear

his

topic

he

a

severe

sententious beauty, a freshness and sanction next to that of godliness, in spirit

"

and

The

Teach man

And when

if

not that

effect.

princely mind, that can to keep a

God

in

man

wise poets would search out to see

Good men, behold them

all

in thee."

'Tis near thirty years since his first book,

entitled " Nature,"

was printed.

Then

fol-

lowed volumes of Essays, Poems, Orations, Addresses period

and during

down

all

the intervening

to the present,

he has read

13 briefs of his lectures

through a wide range,

from Canada to the Capitol the Free States

;

in

most

in the large cities,

;

and West, before large audiences

;

of

East

in the

smallest towns and to the humblest companies.

Such has been

mind of

his

his appeal to the

countrymen, such his accept-

ance by them. the principal

He

cities

has read lectures in

A

of England also.

poet, speaking to individuals as few others

can speak, and to persons in their privileged moments, he must be heard as none others are

more

.

The more personal he

prevailing,

if

is,

the

not the more popular.

Because the poet, accosting the heart of man, speaks to

one with

all

him

mankind.

personally, he

And

if

is

he speak

14

eloquent words, these words must be cherished by mankind,

— belonging

as they

do

to the essence of man's personality, and,

partaking of the qualities of his Creator,

While,

they are of spiritual significance. so far as he

other

man,

is

individual only,

—

aptitudes in separate persons

belong, not to only,

and

those

who

all

special

and he

;

will

times, but to one time

pass away,

will

— unlike any

address

his verses

in

delight in that

—

except to

special

mani-

festation of his gifts.

Now

were Emerson

less individual, ac-

cording to our distinction, that personal and

America,

much

national,

— then

the

more

—

were

diffusive,

as

his

is,

more

American

as

influence

so

and he the

Priest

15

of the Faith earnest hearts are seekincr.

Not

that reUgion

England most

;

is

but that

part, too

wanting here its

in

New

seekers are, for the

exclusive to seek

pendent of some human

leader,

it

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

inde-

religion

being a personal oneness with the Person of Persons

;

Him by

a partaking of

put-

ting off the individualism which distracts

and separates man

from

man.

Hence

differing sects, persuasions, creeds, bibles, for separate

earth

;

peoples, prevail

religions,

being

still

and universal, not personal as yet in their differences.

all

over the

many, not one ;

similar only f'

Still

the re-

ligious sentiment, in binding all souls to

the Personal One,

take of

him

in

makes the many

par-

degrees lesser or greater.

;

i6

Thus

far,

the poets

measure

largest

in

mankind receiving through them been

revelations, they having

oracles till

purest

inspired

its

and teachers from the beginning

The Sacred Books,

now.

these

its

Poems

in

spirit,

if

inspired bards

Meant

men

in all

not

not in form

their authors for all

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; are

?

of divinity?

ages and

states,

they appeal forever to the springing faiths of every age, and so are permanent and perennial, as the heart itself and

ever-

its

lasting hopes.

See how the Christian Theism, stance, has

held

men's heads

above

all

till

cavil

itself

now

;

for in-

high above most its

tender truths

and debate by

scendent purity and ideal

their tran-

beauty

!

how

17

these

truths

survive

still

in

their

all

freshness, keeping verdant the Founder's

memory

and

!

churches,

shall to distant generations

peoples,

;

a widening

persons,

Christendom, flourishing or fading as they spring forth, or

fall

away from

this living

stem.

"The Son

of

Brother of Grafts,

Man,

all

Now, am spiring this to

men, and the Prince of Peace,

I

service,

and the wit of Greece."

saying that our poet fresher

Faith

be so understood

est of its bards

always, 'tis

teachings

;

woman,

on the solemn valor of the Roman,

Fresh Saxon

mean

at last the son of

?

;

and heralds.

implied, defective,

is

Certainly

I

he, the chief-

Not spoken

nevertheless, in it is

in-

his

admitted, as col-

ored by his temperament, which trenches Personal Theism

on

stress

not a

Httle

he lays on Nature, on Fate

nearly complementing the

Puritanism than aught

we

;

by the

yet more

New England have, and com-

ing nearest to satisfying the aspirations of

our time.

But

it

were the

last

thought of

of any

this conceiving himself the oracle

Faith, the leader of

of religionists. literary

;

his,

any school, any sect

His

genius

ethical,

is

he speaks to the moral

senti-

ments through the imagination, insinuating the virtues so, as poets and moralists

of his class are wont. the Priests, differ the

moral

The Sacred

in this,

sentiment

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; they

directly,

Class,

address

thus

en-

-

19 forcing the

sanctions

personal right-

of

eousness, and celebrating moral excellence

prophetic strain.

in

'Tis everything to have a true believer; in the world,

dealing with

-and mat-

they were divine in idea and

ters

as

if

real

in

fact

;

meeting persons and events

a glance directly, not at a million re-

at

moves, and so passing life

and

literature,

ment of the Pure

fruits

phies il

and fresh into

race.

literatures

a people.

fair

the delight and orna-

are

tions, springing fresh

of

men

They

personal

inspira-

from the Genius of

are original

being verses, essays,

;

their

first

tales, biogra-

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; productions as often of obscure as

ustrious persons.

And

such, so far as

.

20

we have

a literature,

how much and

style,

elsewhere

American

is

is

ours.

foreign

both

in

!

His,

I

by

substance

consider original and

the earliest, purest

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; best

our coun-

answering

needs of the American mind.

how

the rest,

and might have been produced

has produced,

try

Of

the

Consider

largely our letters have been enriched

Consider, too,

his contributions.

change

his

views have wrought

methods of thinking

;

in

the

our

how he has won

over the bigot, the unbeliever, at least to tolerance

and moderation,

knowledgment, by

if

not to ac-

his circumspection

candor of statement. " His shining armor ÂŤ A perfect cliarmer;

and

21

"Even the homes Allow him

And Upon

Ill's

thought has a place

the well-bound library's chaste shelves,

Where man of

Am

of divinity

a brief space,

I

vaiious

wisdom

rarely delves."

extravagant in believing that our

people are more indebted to his teachings than

any other person who has

to

spoken or written on the last twenty years,

his

themes during

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; are more

indebted

more so

than they know, becoming

still

and

pass into the

that,

as his thoughts

brain of the

seen that

coming generation,

we have had

at least

it

will

?

be

one mind of

home growth,

if

not independent of the

old country

I

consider his genius the

?

measure and present expansion

American mind.

And

it

is

of

the

plain that he.

22

be read and

to

is

prized

years

for

to

Poet and moralist, he has beauty

come.

and truth

men's edification and de-

for all

His works are

light.

And any

studies.

youth of free senses and fresh affections shall

be spared years of tedious

which wisdom and the

most

arm's

at

planet's width, from his grasp,

uating from this college.

surcharged sprightly sense, tile

with

wit.

length,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; by grad-

thoughts,

They abound

noble

in

His books are

vigorous

happy humor, keen

insights,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

learning are, for

fair

held

part,

toil,

in

a

strong

criticisms, sub-

morals,

clothed in a

chaste and manly diction, and fresh with

the breath of health and progress.

We

characterize

and

class

him with the

2?>

moralists

who

us with

surprise

dental wisdom, strokes of wit, phrase,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; as

Marcus

acci-

felicities

of

Seneca, Epictetus,

Plutarch,

Antoninus,

an

Saadi,

Montaigne,

Bacon, Sir Thomas Browne, Goethe, Coleridge,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; with

withstanding us,

we

still

whose all

delightful essays, not-

the

they give

pleasure

plead our disappointment at

not having been admitted to the closer intimacy which these loyal leaves had with their owner's

mind before torn from

notebook; jealous, even,

been taken into editing

We

his

at

^t

confidence

his

having in

the

itself.

read, never as

matist, but a

if

he were

vthe

dog-

fair-speaking mind, frankly

declaring his convictions, and committing

24

we may

these to our consideration, hoping

have thought

like things ourselves

;

often-

indeed, taking this for granted as he

est,

There

wrote.

is

nothing of the

proselyting, but the delightful

of

spirit

deference

ever to our free sense and right of opin-

He

ion.

might take

motto the

his

for

sentiment of Henry More, where, speaking of himself, he says: quisition

"Exquisite

begets diffidence

;

dis-

m

diffidence

knowledge, humility; humility,. good manners

and meek

part, I desire

write

no man to take anything

or speak

vassing,

upon

trust

elsewhere

to assert

written

what

or

I

without can-

and would be thought rather

propound than or

my

For

conversation.

I

to

have here

spoken.

But

25 continually to

dence

in the

have

expressed

my

diffi-

very tractates and colloquies

themselves, had been languid and ridiculous."

Then he has chosen manner

for saying his

a proper time and

good things

;

has

spoken to almost every great interest as it

rose.

Nor has he

tunities pass

them

for

let

the good oppor-

unheeded, or

himself.

He

failed to

make

has taken discre-

tion along as his constant attendant ally

;

has shown

how

the gentlest temper

ever deals the surest blows. is

and

His method

that of the sun against his rival for the

cloak,

and so he

is

free

from any madness

of those, who, forgetting the strength of

the solar ray, go blustering against men's

26 prejudices, at

as

the wearers would

if

run

once against these winds of opposition

arms

into their

for shelter.

What

higher

can we bestow on any one than

praise

to say of him, that

he harbors another's

prejudices with a hospitality so cordial as to give him, for the time, the

next best

to,

if,

indeed,

civil

Yet

distracts

for his

How

mankind rnore than the un-

amendment

were

all

different

given is

associated! is

the

letters, love, Chris-

!

he in temper and man-

ners from Carlyle, with

part,

edifica-

manners that cleave man from man?

tianity,

larly

be not

For what disturbs

tion in, charity itself?

and

it

sympathy

whom he

is

popu-

but who, for the most

polemic,

the

sophist,

the

27 scorner:

whose books, opened anywhere,

show him berating the wrong he but seeing,

shows

removing.

Ever the

never

means of

the

same

sees,

melancholy

advocacy of work to be done under the dread master; force of stroke, the right to

rule

and be

ever the dismal

Doomsday books

burden. his

ruled,

earliest

the arbiter. fiercely as

are

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Rhadamanthus He did

rides his

his

save

all

sitting

and

Leviathan as

countryman, Hobbes,

and can be as truculent and abusive; the British

Taurus, and a

he not thus possessed earnest,

we should

mad

one.

and

fearfully

in

take him for the har-

lequin he seems, nor see the

sadness playing off

Were

its

sorrowing

load in this gro-

28 tesque mirth, this scornful irony of his;

he painting traits fire

warmth of admiration, the

the

in

spite of himself his por-

in

of wrath, and giving mythology for

history;

into

all

the while distorting the facts

grimace

in

his

grim moods.

Yet,

what breadth of perspective, strength of outline!

realism

the

how

egotism how enormous,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

appalling,

all

the

history show-

ing in the background of the one figure,

Burns, Goethe,

Carlyle.

beau,

Cromwell,

Luther,

dashed from himself,

his

alike

in

Frederick,

flashing their

;

all

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

all

pen, heads of

unlikeness,

digiously individual, willful,

monstrous

Mira-

Richter,

pro-

some of them

Englishmen

with

egregious prejudices and pride

;

their

no pa-

;

29 tience,

no repose

dishes

his

He

in any.

for any, save the

this

he,

unsafe

temper, to do battle against

Abaddon.

;

it

few that wield weapons

Silenced he will not be

talking terribly against

own

bran-

truncheon through his pages

with an adroitness that renders

of celestial

still

all

talking but his

agreeing, disagreeing,

the Jove,

all

the same

permitting none, none

mount Olympus, lence and invites.

the

till

god deigns

;

to si-

Curious to see him,

his chin aloft, the pent thunders rolling,

lightnings

darting from

brows, words that

tell

under the bold

of the wail within,

accents not meant for music, lyrical

refrain

in ;

yet

made

the cadences of his Caledonian

his mirth

mad

as Lear's, his hu-

:

30

mor is

Not himself

as willful as the wind's.

And

approachable by himself even.

Emerson

is

serving a moment's

Him

eyes.

only American de-

the one

consideration

in

his

he honors and owns the bet-

giving him the precedence and the

ter,

manners "Had

wolves and lions seen but thee,

They must have paused

to learn civility."

Of Emerson's books designing to speak

genius

and

I

may

of "Traits" deserves

one

may

in

am

critically,

personal

Yet, in passing,

I

not here

but of his

influence

rather.

say, that his

to

book

be honored as

which England, Old and New,

take honest pride, as being the live-

31 liest

of

portraiture

accomplishments,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;a

book, like

Tacitus,

be quoted as a masterpiece of

to

and

genius

British

histor-

New

painting, and perpetuating the

ical

Englander's fame with that of his race.

'Tis

a

victory

eyes

of

triumph of ideas.

hands,

over

Nor, in

my

judgment,

has there been for some time any

cism of a

people

complete.

It

justice to

New

sician,

characteristic

a metaphy-

rightly discarding

any claims

England.

thinking; ;

a poet in

the

spirit,

the consistent ideal-

yet the realist none the

illustrated

and

remains for him to do like

not always in form

ist,

criti-

Not

systematic

to if

and

so

a

learning

and

less,

he has

thought

of

former times on the noblest themes, and

;

32

come nearest of any mind of

to emancipating the

the errors and

own time from

his

dreams of past ages.

Why

nibble longer there,

Where nothing

Upon

Lo

!

fair

pasture here your mind,

Ye

readers

those rocks?

meadows green and

Come

There

fresh ye find,

bleating flocks.

is

a virtuous

curiosity

of

remarkable

books

felt

to

something more of their author's tastes, habits

ordinarily is

by

learn

literary

and dispositions than these

furnish.

Yet,

to

gratify

this

a task as difficult as delicate, requiring

a diflfidency akin to that with which one

33

would accost the author

and with-

himself,

out which graceful armor

it

were imperti-

nent for a friend even to undertake

We

may venture but

it.

or two

a stroke

here.

All

men

love

the

mankind with a wholesome

makes good

love

and have

love,

poetry and company in them. ist

who

country

Our

this preference.

essayIf

city

bred, he has been for the best part of his life

and countryman.

a villager

traveller at times professionally,

home-keeping scape;

is

;

is

Only a

he prefers

a student of the land-

no recluse misanthrope, but a

lover of his neighborhood, of mankind, of

rugged strength wherever found plain

persons, plain

;

liking

ways, plain clothes

;

34

shuns its

publicity, likes solitude,

He

uses.

cle

not

than

less

broadest views

seeks

all

a

and so

Delighting

men and

of

accessible

his

and knows

pleasure,

in the

things,

he

displays of both for

And

and works.

draping his thoughts is

egotists,

courts society as a specta-

carries off the spoils.

how

hates

people,

earnest

prefers

page produced

?

Is

it

im-

aginable that he conceives his piece as a

whole,

and

then

his task at a heat

able rather,

down

sits ?

Is

and the key

hension of his works

?

studies,

execute

not this imaginto

the compre-

Living for com-

position as few authors can,

company,

to

and holding

sleep, exercise,

affairs,

subservient to thought, his products are

35

gathered as they ripen, and stored

commonplaces at

intervals,

of ideas, of

contents transcribed

the

;

and

in his

The order

classified.

imagination,

observed

is

the arrangement, not that of logical

quence.

You may begin

a

is

'Tis Iris-built.

self-poised; there

may be

chasm of years between the opening

passage and the

last

time

in

is

se-

at the last para-

graph and read backwards.

Each period

in

endless

Jewels

all

have them

!

separate in

that,

if

You

stars. if

and there

composition.

the

a galaxy,

view them separate and

one knows

written,

you

apart.

maj'

like,

or

But every

he take an essay or

may have

verses,

however

pleased

himself with the cunning work-

the

writer

;

36 manship, there

'tis

all

cloud- fashioned,

and

any one

else.

no pathway

is

for

Cross as you can, or not cross, ters not circles,

;

you may climb or

leap,

mat-

it

move

in

turn somersaults

" In sympathetic sorrow sweep the ground,"

his

like

views, far,

fair

projects,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; yet

sions.

swallow in Merlin.

Here

weather

is

all,

not

substance, sod, sun

;

illu-

much

in the seer as in his leaves.

quarternion

sidereal

these periods.

year, has

of

the

seasons,

been poured into

Afternoon walks furnished

the perspectives, rounded

them.

and

open wide

earth, sky, realities

The whole the

vistas

Dissolving

and melodized

These good things have

all

been

37 talked and slept over, meditated standing

and

read and polished in the ut-

sitting,

terance,

submitted

and,

accepted,

so

Light

were the

fancies,

set

on

fields,

shores,

by

home and

all

various

they pass

dreams,

foot,-

into

moods,

tests,

print.

refrains,

and sent jaunting about

along wood-paths, by Walden hill

and brook-sides,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

to

come

claim their rank and honors too

in his pages.

Composed of surrounding

populous

matters,

to

with

thoughts,

brisk

with images, these books are wholesome,

and could have been written

homelike,

only in

New

England,

in

Concord, and by

our poet.

"Because

I

was content with these poor

fields,

Low, open meads, slender and sluggish streams,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

38 And found

home

a

which

haunts

in

others

scorned.

The

partial

wood-gods overpaid

And granted me

And

the freedom of their state

in their secret senate

With the

dear,

my love, ;

have prevailed

dangerous lords that rule our

life,

Made moon

and planets parties to their bond,

And

my rock-like,

through

solitary

wont

Shot million rays of thought and tenderness.

For me, in showers,

in

sweeping

showers, the

spring.

Visits the valley; I

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; break away the clouds,

bathe in the morn's soft and silvered

And

loiter willing

Sparrows far

off,

by yon

air,

loitering stream.

and nearer,

April's bird,

Blue-coated, flying before from tree to tree.

Courageous, sing a delicate overture

To

lead the tardy concert of the year.

Onward and nearer

And wide

rides the sun of

around, the marriage of the plants

Is sweetly solemnized.

The

May

Then

flows

amain

surge of summer's beauty; dell and crag,

;

39 lake, hillside,

and pine arcade,

touched with Genius.

Yonder ragged

Hollow and .\re

cliff

Has thousand faces in a thousand hours.

The Showed me

gentle deities

The innumerable tenements The

and of sounds,

the lore of colors

of beauty,

miracle of generative force,

Far-reaching concords of astronomy Felt in the plants

and

Better, the linked

purpose of the whole.

And, chiefest In the glad

The

polite

Would I

am

prize,

home

found

in the punctual birds

found I true liberty

plain-dealing nature gave.

me

impolite

the great

;

mortify me, but in vain

;

for still

a willow of the wilderness.

Loving the wind that bent me.

All

my

hurts

My garden spade can heal. A woodland walk, A quest of river-grapesj a mocking thrush, A

wild- rose, or rock-loving

Salve

my

worst wounds.

columbine.

4° For thus the wood-gods murmured '

Dost love our mamiers ?

Canst thou, thy pride

in

Canst thou

my

ear

:

silent lie ?

forgot, like nature pass

Into the winter night's extinguished rnood?

Canst thou shine now, then darkle,

And As,

being latent

when

The

feel thyself

the all-worshipped

river, hill,

no

less?

moon attracts

the eye,

stems, foliage, are obscure;

" Yet envies none, none are unenviable.'

know

I

of

but one subtraction from

the pleasure the reading of his books shall

I

say his conversation

his pains to if

?

— gives

be impersonal or

—

me,

discrete, as

he feared any the least intrusion of him-

self

were an offence offered to

self-respect

the courtesy due to intercourse and authorship

;

thus

depriving

his

page,

his

company, of attractions the great masters

41

knew how

of both text

and

bounds

What

without overstepping the

talk,

of

social

more

is

magnetism?

to insinuate into their

or

than personal

delightful

'Tis the

charm of good

tion, to

fill

measures of

satisfac-

ourselves with the nectar of

select experiences, not without

tertinctures of egotism so

companion,

fel-

To get and

lowship as of good writing. to give the largest

decorum.

literary

is

some

charming

what we seek

in

in-

in

a

books of

the class of his, as in their authors.

We

associate diffidence properly with learning,

frankness with fellowship, and tain

blushing

reverence to

owe a both.

cer-

For

though our companion be a bashful man,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and

he

is

the worse

if

wanting

this

42 grace, siast

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; we yet wish

behind

all

him

is

rare this genial

the

gift

humor

pecially here in cold for the

most

good

of

New

books.

in his

frankness of the blood, and sing

be an enthu-

and capable of

reserves,

abandonment sometimes

know how

to

how

is,

I

this

surpas-

spirits,

es-

England, where,

part,

" Our virtues grow

Beneath our humors, and

And

yet,

at seasons

show."

under our east winds of

serve, there hides

an obscure courtesy

re-

in

the best natures, which neither tempera-

ment nor breeding can manners the most for holding

spoil.

Sometimes

distant are friendly foils

eager dispositions subject to

;;

43 the measure of right behavior.

every

New

commended by

Thy But

Be

me

heart if

is

not

Englander that dares venture

upon the frankness, the

" Caress

'T

plain speaking,

the Greek poet.

not with words, while far away absent,

is

thou love

me

and thy

feelings stray

with a faithful breast,

that pure love with zeal sincere exprest

And

if

thou hate, the bold aversion show

With open face avowed, and known

Fortunate the visitor

who

my

foe."

admitted

is

of a morning for the high discourse, or

permitted to join the poet in his after-

noon walks where,

Walden, the

to

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; hours

as unlike

likely to

any others

experiences.

I

may

in

Cliffs,

or else-

be remembered, his

say, for

calendar of

me

they have

44

made

ideas possible,

by

hospitalities given

to a fellowship so enjoyable.

them

scribe

cloud-lands,

as

ever

new ? none

than

when

first

oftenest

sallies

into

Shall

and

scenes

de-

I

the

into

intimacies

the less novel nor remote

experienced

;

colloquies, in

favored moments, on themes, perchance "

Of fate,

free-will,

foreknowledge absolute

" ;

nor yet " In wand'ring mazes lost,"

as in Milton's

page

;

But pathways plain through

Or thence descending

Interviews, trail

of

starry alcoves high,

to the level plains.

however,

perplexing

bringing

thoughts,

their

costing

45

some

days'

duties,

several

nights'

sleep

oftentimes, to restore one to his place and

poise

for

customary employment

dozen annually being stoutest heads

may

full

as

;

many

half a

as the

well undertake without

detriment.

Certainly safer

not to venture without

the sure credentials, unless one will have his

pretensions pricked, his conceits re-

duced

in their

vague dimensions.

"Fools have no means But by

But

to

gifted,

the

meet

their feet."

modest, the

welcome

to

!

ingenuous, the

Nor can any bearing

be more poetic and polite than such,

to youth

his to all

and accomplished women

46 especially.

to say, his

is

I

that,

may

not intrude farther than

beyond any

I

have known,

a faith approaching to superstition

concerning admirable persons; the divinity of friendship

come down from childhood,

and surviving yet expectation

any

sort,

gift to

;

in

memory

not

in

the rumor of excellence of

being

like the arrival of a

mankind, and he the

his recognition

and hope.

for conversation, for clubs,

timation

of

the

He,

we

say?

shall

if

religion

any,

if

to proffer

first

His is

of

new

affection

a lively infellowship.

must have taken

the census of the admirable people of his time,

numbering

friends, perhaps,

cans;

while he

as as

is

many among most

living

his

Ameri-

already recognized as

47 the

whom

to

mind of

representative

especially

his

country,

distinguished

foreigners

commended on

visiting us.

Extraordinary persons

may be

some querulousness about

when we remember

their

are

forgiven

company,

that ordinary people

often complain of theirs.

Impossible for

such to comprehend the scholar's code of civilities,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; disposed

persons to their

as

men

special

are to hold

standard.

all

Yet

much

dedicated to

high

more

the scholar with himself, as

his

strict

is

labors,

so

the

hindrances are the less appreciable,

and he

has,

besides, his

own moods

humor. " Askest

how long thou

shalt stay,

Devastator of the day?"

to

;

48 " Heartily know.

When

half-gods go,

The Gods

arrive."

.Companionableness

We

comes,

meet magically, and pass with sound-

ing manners strokes

of

else

;

fate

we encounter

from

into

vortices

finds

no escape.

repulses,

temperament

;

temperament,

against

We

telling

precipitating

which the

us

nimblest

pity the person

shows himself unequal

who

to such occasions;

the scholar, for example, is

by., nature.

whose

intellect

so exacting, so precise, that he cannot

meet cally

his ;

or the

company otherwise than

criti-

cannot descend through the senses sentiments to that

where intercourse

is

common

possible with

level

men

49 but we caprice

him the more, who, from

pity

or

these only.

worse the case of him

Still

who

can meet

talist

nor

a

men

human way. in

and wit

with

neither as sentimen-

or, rather

idealist,

sentiment

can meet through

confusion,

not at

all

with

Intellect interblends

the

companionable

We

humor.

in

mind,

detain

the

flowing tide at the cost of lapsing out

of

perception

limbo of

they

They

cannot,

away, and

into

the

Excellent people wonder

fools.

why

memory,

into

cannot

meet

and

converse.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; no â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

their wits

have ebbed

them

helpless.

Why, but

left

because of hostile temperaments, ent states

of animation

magnetism

finds

?

differ-

The personal

no conductor, when one

50 is

and the other individual no

individual,

IiTdividuals

less.

and

only

as

one's

personality

overpowering

ciently

meet;

persons

repel;

suffi-

is

the

dissolve

to

other's- individualism, can the parties flow

together and become one.

no power of

uals have

are

two,

oned

are

touch

;

by

themselves

egotism,

aloof;

like

separate

they

animals,

stand

when

even

of

they

are solitary in any company, hav-

personal mind

hended by the

Pris-

reason

ing no company in themselves. free

They

this sort.

not one, perhaps many.

within

their

But individ-

all

by the

;

most gifted

spell-binder, the

meets

;

all,

least

magnetizes liberator

of

But the is

appre-

cultivated, all

;

is

the

every one.

51

We

speak

of

sympathies,

antipathies,

fascinations, fates, for this reason.

Here we have the key

to Hterary

com-

position, to eloquence, to fellowship.

Let

moment,

us apply

it,

genius.

We

forbear

of

genesis,

precincts

for the

to

entering

and

Emerson's into

the

complexions,

wherein sleep the secrets of character and manners.

Eloquent

trope

in

and

utter-

ance when his vaulting intelligence frees itself

for the

instant, yet

eye, his volleyed period

;

see his loaded

jets of wit, sallies

of sense, breaks, inconsequences,

all

be-

traying the pent personality from which his

rare

accomplishments

liberated his

gifts,

servedly to the

have not yet

nor given him unre-

Muse and mankind.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

;

;

52

Take

his

own account "

From

was born,

I

This be thy portion, child

'

:

Less than a

From my

lily's,

down

:

this chalice,

thou shalt daily draw

great art eries,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; not

less

nor more.'

cunning chemist, Time,

All substances the

Melts

When

the seas of strength Fate filled a chalice,

all

Saying

of the matter.

into the liquor of

my

life,

Friends, foes, joys, fortunes, beauty and disgust

And

am

whether I

angry or content,

Indebted or insulted, loved or hurt, All he distils into sidereal wine,

And

brims

Of all he

my

little

sheds,

How much

cup, heedless, alas

how

little it will

hold,

runs over on the desert sands.

If a

new Muse draw me with splendid

And

I uplift myself into its heaven,

The needs

And

all

!

of the

first

sight absorb

ray,

my blood

the following hours of the day

Drag a ridiculous age.

To-day, when friends approach, and every hour

;

53 Brings book, or star-bright scroll of Genius,

The

And Nor So

cup

little

all

will

hold not a bead more,

the costly liquor runs to waste

gives the jealous lord one

to

diamond drop

be husbanded for poorer days.

Why

need

I

Why

need

I galleries,

volumes,

if

one word

when

After the master's sketch,

suffice ?

a pupil's draught,

fills

and

o'erfiUs

My apprehension ? Why seek Italy, Who cannot circumnavigate the sea Of thoughts and

The

light,

man also.

still

nearest matter for a thousand days

Plutarch

wont

things at home, but

to

tells

"

us that of old they were

men ^ara, which

call

?

adjourn

imports

not only for the vehement desire

has to know, but to communicate

And

the

Platonists

the gods, being above

thing whereof

man

fancied that

men, had some-

did not partake, pure

54 intellect

and knowledge, and thus kept

on

way

their

quietly.

The

beasts, being

man

below men, had something whereof

had

less,

quietly

sense and growth, so they lived

in

something

their in

While man had

way.

him whereof neither gods

nor beasts had any trace, which gave him all

the trouble, and

in the world,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and

made that

all

the confusion

was egotism and

opinion.

A show

finer

that

threefold

discrimination

Genius

of

ranges

gifts

might

through

this

dominion, partaking in turn of

each essence and degree.

Was lect,

so

our poet planted so firmly

rooted

in

fast in intel-

the

mind,

so

dazzled with light, yet so cleft withal by

55 duplicity

of

that, thus

gifts,

the mid-world

traverse

of

he was ever

contrariety,

glancing forth

as reflected through

life

his dividing prism,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; resident

the

he

tracts

persistent

Muse

housed

the

forth

in

in

to

and

contrast

from his coverts at

in

forced

never long

surveyed,

nevertheless

yet ?

their

And

so,

Mind, and thence sallying

quest of his game, whether of

persons or things, he was the Mercury, the merchantman of ideas to his century.

Nor was he

left

alone in

life

and thinking.

Beside him stood his townsman,* whose sylvan

intelligence,

fast

rooted in

and Nature, was yet armed with a a subtlety and strength,

ity, *

Thoreau.

that

sense .sagac-

pene-

56 trated

while

divining

the

the creatures and things he

essences studied,

of

and

of which he seemed both Atlas and Head.

Forcible terialism

protestants

of

times,

these

tiated

beyond

their

the

ma-

own, as of ..preceding

masterly all

against

Idealists" substan-

question their right to

the empires they swayed,

of an original genius.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the

rich estates

Emerson's Summer House.

'J'he

Si'mmek

Sci-totjL

OF Philos<jfh\', Conxoku, Mas:

—

A MONODY.

ION: By

BRONSON ALCOTT.

A.

Read before the Concoko School of

Philosophy, July 22, 18S2.

I.

Why,

oh, ye willows, and ye pastures bare,

Why will ye Wrap

And

in chill

Tell me, ah,

me

tell

me !

my vanished

Say, have ye seen

Ye who

his

Heard ye

late delay.

weeds the sere and sullen day,

cheerless greet

Whither

bloom so

thus your

wandering

in despair?

— ye of old could Ion now doth

him

his voice forth

Where midst

way.

full

well ?

from the thicket swell.

the drooping ferns he loved to stray?

Caught ye no glimpses of Tell rae, oh,

fare.

lately pass this

wonted haunts did know

tell,

tell

my

truant there ?

me, whither he hath flown

Beloved Ion flown, and Whilst I through

left

wood and

—

ye sad and lone, field his loss

bemoan.

—

;

:

6o II.

Early through field and

Young Ion

How

wood each

Spring

leading o'er the reedy pass

fleet his footsteps

and how sure

His converse deep and weighty

;

we sped,

;

his tread

— where,

alas

!

!

Like force of thought with subtlest beauty wed ?

The bee and bird and

flower, the pile of grass,

The

lore of stars, the azure sky o'erhead,

The

eye's

warm glance,

All mirrored were

the Fates of love

and dread,-

in his prismatic glass

For endless Being's myriad-minded race

Had

in his thought their registry

and place,

Bright with intelligence, or drugged with sleep,

Hid

in

dark cave,

aloft

on mountain

steep,

In seas immersed, ensouled in starry keep.

III.

Now Echo Where we Or

at the

On

its

answers lone from

and brake,

cliff

in springtime sauntering loved to

mossy bank beyond the

go,—

lake,

green plushes oft ourselves did throw

There from the sparkling wave our

thirst to slake,

—

;;

—

6i Dipped

in the spring that

Our hands Next

for cups,

bubbled up below,

and did

witli glee partake.

way we make.

to the Hermit's cell our

Where

sprightly talk doth hold the

Deserted now

:

ah, Hylas, too,

Hylas, dear Ion's friend and mine,

Alone am Vanished

Why am

left

my I

by unrelenting loved ones

spared

?

why

all,

—

late

!

I all alone,

fate,

—

left

morning

gone

is

the good, the great,

disconsolate

?

IV.

Slow winds our Indian stream through meadows green,

By bending Smooth 'Twas

willows, tangled fen and brake,

field

in far

and farmstead doth woodpaths Ion,

But oftenest found

at

too,

Its

his skiff

was seen.

Walden's emerald

(The murmuring pines inverted There in

flow forsake

its

in

its

lake,

sheen

;)

he rippling rhymes did make.

answering shores echoing the verse between

Full-voiced the

:

meaning of the wizard song.

Far wood and wave and shore, with kindred Strophe, antistrophe, in turn prolong

:

—

will,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; ;

;

;

62

Now wave

and shore and wood are mute and

chill,

Ion, melodious bard, hath dropt his quill.

His harp

is silent,

and

his voice

is still.

V.

Blameless was Ion, beautiful to see,

With native

He

genius, with rich gifts

might of

his

endowed

descent be nobly proud,

Yet meekly tempered was, spake modestly,

Nor sought

the plaudits of the noisy crowd,

When Duty His

He Nor But

The

life

called

him

flowed calmly

in the thick to be.

clear,

not hoarse nor loud

wearied not of immortality, like

Tithonus begged a time-spun shroud

life-long

drank

at fountains of

seer unsated of eternal youth.

'T is not for Ion's sake these tears

'Tis

pure truth,

for the

Age he

Ion immortal

is,

I shed,

nursed, his genius fed,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; he

is

not dead.

VI.

Did e'en the Ionian bard, Mseonides, Blind minstrel wandering out of Asia's night,

;

;

63

The

Iliad of Troy's loves

and

In strains forever tuneful to

His raptured

listeners the

Or dropt learned Plato

More

star-bright

rivalries,

recite,

more

delight ?

'neath his olive trees,

wisdom

in the world's full sight.

Well garnered in familiar colloquies,

Than did our

harvester in fields of light ?

Nor spoke more charmingly young Charmides,

Than our glad rhapsodist

in his far flight

Across the continents, both

His

tale to studious

new and

old

thousands thus he told

In summer's solstice and midwinter's cold.

VII. Shall from the shades another

Orpheus

rise

Sweeping with venturous hand the vocal

string.

Kindle glad raptures, visions of surprise,

And wake

to ecstacy each slumberous thing

Flash

and thought anew

life

in

wondering eyes.

As when our seer transcendent, sweet, and wise, World-wide

his native

Flushed with

fair

melodies did sing,

hopes and ancient memories?

;; ; :;

64 Ah, no

!

None hath

To

matchless

his

lyi'e

must

silent lie,

the vanished minstrel's wondrous

touch that instrument with

art

and

will

With him winged Poesy doth droop and While our dull age, Follows his

flight to

left

skill

die,

voiceless, with sad eye

groves of song on high.

VIII.

Come, As

if

then,

Mnemosyne and on me !

for Ion's harp

wait,

thou gav'st thine own

Recall the memories of man's ancient state.

Ere

to this

low orb had

his

form dropt down,

Clothed in the cerements of his chosen

fate

Oblivious here of heavenly glories flown,

Lapsed from the high, the

Unknowing

Lo

!

the blest estate.

and by himself unknown

Ion, unfallen from his lordly prime,

Paused

To

these,

fair,

in his passing flight, and, giving ear

heedless sojourners in weary time.

Sang

his full

song of hope and

Aroused them from

And

toward the

lofty

cheer

dull sleep, from grisly fear,

stars their faces

did uprear.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

65 IX.

Why

didst thou haste away, ere yet the green

Enameled meadow, the sequestered

The blossoming

dell,

orchard, leafy grove were seen

In the sweet season thou hadst sung so well

Why

shadow

cast this

No more

its rustic

o'er the vernal scene ?

charms of thee

may

tell

And

so content us with their simple mien.

Was

it

(Ere

that

memory's unrelinquished

man had

?

spell

stumbled here amid the tombs,)

Revived for thee that Spring's perennial blooms.

Those cloud-capped alcoves where we once did dwell Translated wast thou in some rapturous dream ?

Our once

familiar faces strange

Whilst from thine

own

must seem,

celestial smiles

did stream

X. I tread the

marble leading to

his door,

(Allowed the freedom of a chosen friend

He greets me The Fates

j

not as was his wont before.

within frown

Could ye not once your

on me

as of yore,

ofiSces

suspend?

)

!

;

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

66

Had

Atropos her severing shears forbore

Or Clotho stooped

!

the sundered thread to

mend

!

Yet why dear Ion's destiny deplore ?

What more had

envious

Time

himself to give

?

His fame had reached the ocean's farthest shore,

'

Why

prisoned here should Ion longer live?

The

questioning Sphinx declared him void of blame

For wiser answer none could ever frame

Beyond

all

;

time survives his mighty name.

XI.

Now pillowed

near loved Hylas' lovyly bed,

Beneath our aged oaks and sighing

pines,

Pale Ion rests awhile his laureled head

(How

sweet his slumber as he there reclines

Why weep

for

Ion here ?

Nought of him Personal

The hues

He that

is

not dead,

mound

confines

ethereal of the morning red

This clod embraces never, nor enshrines.

Away

the mourning multitude hath sped.

And round us

closes fast the gathering night,

As from the drowsy

dell the

sun declines,

!)

;

I\Ir.

^.^.^^

,

..

Study.

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

^1 Ion hath vanished from our clouded

sight,

But on the morrow, with the budding May, A-field goes Ion, at

first

Across the pastures

on

flush of day,

his

dewy way.

THE POET'S COUNTERSIGN.

;

THE An Ode read

POET'S COUNTERSIGN.

by F. B. Sanborn, at thh opening of the Concord School, July 17, 1882,

" I grant, sweet soul, thy lovely argument

Deserves the

travail

of a worthier pen

Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent,

He

robs thee

He

lends thee virtue,

From

and pays

thy behavior

And found

No

of,

it

;

it

thee again

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and he

;

stole that

word

beauty doth he give,

on thy cheek ; he can

afford

praise to thee but what in thee doth live."

Across these meadows, o'er the

hills,

Beside our sleeping waters, hurrying

rills.

Through many a woodland dark, and many a bright arcade,

—

;

72

Where

An

out and in the shifting sunbeams braid

Indian mat of checquered light and shade,

The

sister

seasons in their maze,

we wakened here

Since

last

From

hot siesta the

Have

led the fourfold dance along our quiet ways,—

Autumn

still

drowsy year,

apparelled sadly gay.

Winter's white furs and shortened day.

Spring's loitering footstep, quickened at the

And As

half the affluent

summer went and came,

uncounted years the same

for

Ah me

!

last,

—

another unreturning spring hath passed.

II.

"

When

"

The

The

the

young

die," the Grecian

springtime from the year hath vanished

gray-haired poet, in unfailing youth,

by the shrine of Truth,

Sits

Her

oracles to spell,

And

their

Or

mourner

else

deep meaning

tell

he chants a bird-like note

said,

" ;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

From

;

;

;

;

;

that thick-bearded throat

Which warbled

smooth-cheeked

forth the songs of

Beside Youth's sunny fountain

all

May

the day

Sweetly the echoes ring

As At

last

in the flush of spring

the poet dies,

The sunny The

fountain dries,

oracles are

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

dumb, no more the wood-birds

sing.

III.

Homer Of

forsakes the billowy

round

sailors circling o'er the island-sea

Pindar, from

Theban

fountains

Builded in love and woe by

Must

pass beneath the ground

Stout

^schylus

At Marathon,

that slew the deep-haired

at Salamis,

Athens from Persian

Then sung Must

and the mound

doomed Antigone,

Mede

and freed

thrall,

the battle call,

yield to that

one foe he could not quell

—

;

;

74 In Gela's flowery plain he slumbers well.* Sicilian roses

Above

And

his nameless

tomb

there the nightingale doth

For Bion,

By

bloom

too,

who sung

mourn

in vain

the Dorian strain

Arethusa's tide,

His brother swains might

The

flute in

Dorian mood,

bird of love in thickets of the

wood

Sing for a thousand years his grave beside

Yet Bion

still

was mute

—

— the Dorian

— had died.

lay

IV.

The

Attic poet at approach of age

Laid by his garland, took the

staff

and

For singing robes the mantle of the

And

scrip,

sage,

taught gray wisdom with the same grave

lip

That once had carolled gay

Where

silver flutes

breathed

soft

and

festal

harps did

play; * Athenian .^schylus Euphorion's son.

Buried in Gela's

field

these

His deeds are registered

Known

words

declare:

Marathon, to the deep-haired Mede who meet him there. at

— Greek

A nthology.

;

75 Young

Plato sang of love

and beauty's charm,

While he that from Stagira came to hear In lyric measures bade his princely pupil arm.

And

strike the Persian tyrant

High thought doth

mute with

fear.

well accord with melody,

Brave deed with Poesy,

And song

is

prelude

fair to

sweet Philosophy.

But wiser English Shakspeare's noble choice.

Poet and sage

at once,

Taught beyond

A

Plato's ken, yet charming every ear

kindred choice was

Now Avon

whose varied voice

his,

whose

spirit

hovers here.

glides through Severn to the sea.

And murmurs

that her Shakspeare sings

Thames.bears the

freight of

many

a tribute shore,

But on those banks her poet bold and

That stooped

in blindness at his

no more

free.

humble door,

Yet never bowed to priest or prince the knee,

Wanders no more by those sad

sisters led

;

;-

—

76 Herbert and Spenser dead

Have

left their

Stiffly

endeavors to supplant the dream

Of seer and

names alone

poet, with

to

him whose scheme

mechanic

Learned from the chemist's

rule

from the surgeon's

closet,

tool.

With us Philosophy

still

spreads her wing,

—

And

soars to seek Heaven's

Nor

creeps through charnels, prying with the glass

That makes the little

big,

King

—while gods unseen may

pass.

VI.

Along the marge of these slow-gliding streams,

Our winding Concord and

Of

A

the wider flow

Charles by Cambridge, walks and dreams

throng of poets,

For each bright

The keenest

—

tearfully they

river misses

from

go its

;

band

eye, the truest heart, the surest minstrel

hand,

They

sleep each

ing land.

on

his

wooded

hill

above the sorrow-

;

;

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

11 Duly each mound with garlands we adorn

or violet,

lily,

laurel,

and the flowering

thorn,

Sadly above them wave

The

wailing pine-trees of their native strand

;

Sadly the distant billows smite the shore.

Plash in the sunlight, or at midnight roar All sounds of melody,

On

all

things sweet

and

fair,

earth, in sea or air.

Droop and grow

by the poet's grave.

silent

VII.

Yet wherefore weep ?

A

living hearse,

And

Who

Old age

slow creeping

He

utter silence.

is

but a tomb,

from age

is

meets the stroke of Death and

Victor o'er every Is swift defeat

;

woe ;

is

rises

thence

his sure defence

Death

shall restore

the poet's friend

for

freed

by that he doth succeed.

Death

Unlock

gloom

to the

him

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

I

speak

it

sooth

to his golden youth.

him the portal of renown,

And on Fame's

tablet write his verses

down,

— ;

78 For every age

in endless time to read.

With us Death's quarrel Joy from our eyes

When

is

— from

he takes away

:

this

dark world the day -

other skies he opens to the poet's ray.

VIII.

Lonely these meadows green, Silent these warbling

To

us,

by

whom

woodlands must appear

our poet-sage was seen

Wandering among

their beauties, year

by

year,

Listening with delicate ear

To

each

Or

rose from earth

fine

note that

fell

on high

from tree or sky. :

Glancing that falcon eye,

In kindly radiance as of some young

star,

the shows of Nature near and

far.

Or on the tame procession plodding

by,

At

all

Of daily

toil

and

care,

— and

all life's

warm beams

pageantry

of wit and love.

Then

darting forth

Wide

as the sun's great orbit, aiid as high above

These paths wherein our lowly tasks we ply.

; ;

;

79 IX.

His was the task and

Our

He

eyes,

our hearts, bent earthward, to

found us chained

Our

shadows,

from the blaze

light,

flitting

uplift

in Plato's fabled cave,

faces long averted

Of Heaven's broad

On

his the lordly gift

and

idly turned to gaze

ceaseless as the

That dashes ever idly on some

isle

wave

enchanted

By shadows haunted

We

sat,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; amused

in youth, in

In vacant age forlorn,

The same These

He

dull chain

captives,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

still

softly to

" Arise

We

souls

like that

imprisoned Peter

up quickly

wist not

clasped around our shroud

bound and bowed.

from their dungeon

Who

manhood daunted.

then shpped within the grave,

!

said,

gird thyself and flee

whose the

were

angel led

thrilling voice,

" !

we knew our

free.

X.

Ah

!

blest those years of youthful hope,

When

every breeze was Zephyr, every morning

May

i

;

;

;

8o Then

as

Of life's

we bravely climbed the

At every

The

we

steep mount, stair,

gained a wider scope

and could with joy survey

track beneath us, and the

Both

slope

lay in light

upward way j

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; round both the breath of love

Fragrant and warm from Heaveti's, own tropic blew Beside us what glad comrades smiled and strove

Beyond us what dim With

visions rose tp

thee, deaf Master

We jouirneyed- happy Thine the

Thy

lofty

:

!

view

!

through thatmorning land

thine the guiding hand,

ifaf-lookiiig eye,

the dauntless smile

song of hope did the long march beguile.

XI.

Now The

scattered wide

is

and

lost to loving sight

gallant train

That heard thy 'T

May no

strain

longer,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; shadows of the night

Beset the downward pathway

And

!

;

thou art gone,

with thee vanished that perpetual

Of which thou wert

the harbinger

and

dawn seer.

Bridge at Concord.

8i Yet courage

Each

!

comrades,

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; though no more we hear

other's voices, lost within

tliis

cloud

That time and chance about our way have Still

his brave

As 'mid bold

Be

music haunts the hearkening cliffs

and dewy passes of the

that our countersign

His magic song, though Best shall

we

cast,

!

for chanting far apart

we

ear,

Past.

loud

go.

thus discern both friend

and

foe.

j

Recent Publicatiom

CUPPLES & HURD, PUBLISHERS, GENERAL BOOKSELLERS. LIBRARY AGENTS,

g4 Boylston Street,

AND

Boston, Mass.

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THE AMERICAN TAUCHNITZ Square s6mo.

Paper covers, 50

cents.

SERIES.

Cloth, $1.00.

I.

The

first

Miss Frances Merley: A Novel. By John Elliot Cueran. 430 pages. important work of an author familiar to American readers by

his

remarkable sketches to Scridftet^s and other magazines.

II-

New England Farm House;

Autobiography of a

A Romance of the Cape Cod Lands. By N. H. Chamberlain. 380 pagei.

A novel of singular power a?id beauty, great originality and rugged force.

Born and bred on Cape Cod, the author, at the winter firesides of country people, very conservative of ancient EngHsh customs now gone, heard curious talk of kings, Puritan ministers, the war and precedent struggle of our Revolution, and touched a race of men and women now passed away.

He also heard, chiefly from ancient women, the traditions of ghosts, witches and Indians, as they are preserved, and to a degree believed, by honest Christian folk, in the very teeth of modem progress. These thiags are embodied in this book.

OTHER VOLUMES OF THIS SERIES IN PREPARATION. A

SUMMER CRUISE ON THE COAST OF NEW ENGLAND.

By Robert Carter,

Johnson,

izmo.

Cloth, with

Map.

With an Introduction by Rossitbk S1.50.

as a literary production equal to anything of the kind in the tongue.

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Important Netv Books,

A New Book by W. H. H. Murray.

DAYLIGHT LAND. The experiences, incidents, and adventures, humorous and otherwise, which befell Judge John Doe, Tourist, of San Francisco Mr. Cephas Pepperell, Capitalistj of Boston Colonel GofEe, the Man from New Hampshire, and divers others, in their Parlor-Car Excursion over Prairie and Mountain ; as recorded and set forth by W. H. H. Murray.

Superbly illustrated with 150 cuts in various colors by the best artists. ;

— Introduction — The Meeting — A Breakfast — A Very Hopeful — The Man in the Velveteen Jacket — The Capitalist — Camp at Rush Lake — Big Game — A Strange Midnight Ride — Banff — Sunday among the Mountains — Nameless Mountains -- The Great Glacier — The Hermit of Frazer Canon — Fish and Fishing in British Columbia — Vancouver City — Parting at Victoria.

Contents:

Man— The

Big Nepigon Trout

Unique paper covers, $2.50; half leather binding, S3. 50.

Mr. Murray has chosen the north-western side of the continent for the scene book a re^on of country which is little known by the average reader, but which in its scenery, its game, and its vast material and undeveloped resources, supplies the author with a subject which has not been trenched upon even by the magazines, and which he has treated in that lively and spirited manner for which he is especially gifted. The result is a volume full of novel information of the country, humorous and pathetic incidents, vivid descriptions of its magnificent scenery, shrewd forecasts of its future wealth and greatness when developed, illustrated and embellished with such lavishness and artistic elegance as has never before been attempted in any similar work in this coun8vo. 350 pages.

of this

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ADIRONDACK TALES.

By W. H. H. Murray.

300 pages. $1.25.

— —

Illustrated,

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Henry Herbert's Thanksgiving A Containing John Norton's Christmas A Jolly Camp Was it Suicide?— Lost in the Woods The Gambler's Death— The Old Beggar's Dog— The Ball Who was he ? humorous pathetic ; full of the Short stories in Mr. Murray's best vein spirit of the woods.

Strange Visitor

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— —

—

;

HOW DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY NEW

YEARS,

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and other

Stories.

By W. H. H. Murray.

KEPT i6mo.

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A HEART REGAINED. By Carmen Translated by

Mary A.

Mitchell.

Sylva (Queen

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of

Roumania).

$1.00.

A charming story by this talented authoress, told in her vivid, picturesque manner, and showing how patient waiting attains to ultimate rewardT Cupples and Hurd,

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Important Neiv Books.

JOHN BROWN.

By Hermann Von Holst, author of "Constitutional History of the United States," &c., together with an introduction and appen-

Frank P. Stearns, a poem by Mr. Wason, and a letter describing John Brown's grave. Illustrated. i6mo, gilt top. $1.50.

This book, the author of which is so well known by his " Constitutional History," and by his biography of John C. Calhoun, cannot fail to be of interest to all students of American history, who appreciate a caXia, impartial criticism of a man and an episode which have been universally and powenuUy discussed. dix by

MARGARET; Putnam. edges.

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THE SINGER'S STORY.

Caintily

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By Effie Douglass

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A collection

of charming poems, many of \vhich are familiar through the of the magazines and newspaper press, with some more ambitious Tender and pastoral, fulfilling the promise of the shorter efforts. breathing the simple atmosphere of the fields and woods.

medium flights,

amply

AROUND THE GOLDEN

DEEP.

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Romance

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Sierras.

Reeder. 500 pages, izmo. Cloth. |i.so.

A novel of incident and adventure, depicting with a strong hand the virile life of the mine that gives its name to the storyi and contrasting it with the more refined touches of society in the larger cities well written and interesting.

By A.

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SIGNOR NAU.

By Salvatore Farina. Translated by

I.

i2mo.

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the Baroness

Lange-

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A dainty story by an Italian author, recalling in the unique handling of its incidents, and in the development of its plot, the delicate charm of " Marjorie Daw."

MIDNIGHT SUNBEAMS, OR BITS OF TRAVEL THROUGH THE LAND OF THE NORSEMAN. By Edwin Coolidge KimBALL.

On

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fine paper, foolscap Svo, tastefully

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and strongly bound, with

$1.25.

Pronounced by Scandinavians to be accurate in its facts and descriptions, and of great interest to all who intend to travel in or have come from Norway or Sweden.

WOODNOTES

IN

THE GLOAMING.

Poems and Translations by

Mary Morgan.

Square i6mQ. Cloth, full gilt. $1.25.

A collection of poems and sonnets showing great talent, and valuable translations ft'om Gautier, Heine, Uhland, SuUy-Pnidhomme, Gottschalk, Michael Aneelo, and others. Also prose translations from the German, edited and prefaced by Max Miiller.

Cppples and Hurd,

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SooSiiers, Library Agtnis,

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Imporiant

New

Boohs,

RALPH WALDO EMERSON, of bis Character

portraits

IVii/i

and Genius.

and oilier

Philosopher and Seer.

By A. 13ronson Alcott.

An

Foolscap octavo. Gilt

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Estimate

to]i.

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One hundred copies luill be printed on larger and finer paper, Svo, sniiabU for the insertion of extra illnstraiions^ Bound in Roxburgh, gilt top. Price to Subscribers^

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bookaboiit Emerson, written by the one man who stood nearest to him cf men. It is an original and vital contribution to Einersonta ; like a portrait of one of the old masters painted by his own brush, [/n Preis.

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HERMAN THE

OF RAPHAEL

GRIMM'S WORKS.

shown in his principal works. From the German of Herman Grimm, :iulhor of "The I^ife of Michael Angelo," etc.

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LIFE

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ESSAYS ON LITERATURE.

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Life of Raphael."

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German of Herman Grimm, New and e^darged edition, carethe

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BY JAMES H. STARK. ANTIQUE VIEWS OF YE TOWNE OF BOSTON.

ByjAMEslI. Stark, Assisted by Dr. Samuel A. Grebn, Ex-Mayor of Boston, Librarian of the Massachusetts Historical Society; John Ward Dean, Librarian of the New England Historic Genealogical Society; and Judge Mellen Chamberlain, of the Public Library. An extensive and exhaustive work in jyS pages. Large quarto. Illustrated â&#x20AC;¢with nearly soo full i nol. 4io. size reprodtictions of all hnowti rare maps, old prints^ etc. $6.00.

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BERMUDA

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With Maps, Engravings and 16 photo-prints, J

57

pp

.

may

desire informa-

climate, agriculture,

geology,

By James H. Stark. i

vol.

i2mo, cloll^

$2.oo.

PAUL REVERE:

Historical

With reproductions of many

and Legendary.

By Eldridge H.

of Revcre's engravings, etc.

A DIRECTORY OF THE CHARITABLE

AND BENEFICENT

ORGANIZATIONS OF BOSTON, ETC. ciated Charities:

i

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196pp. i6mo.

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Prepared for the Asso-

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—

New

important PROF.

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CLARK MURRAY'S

SOLOMON MAIMON:

An

Autobiography. man, with Additions and Notes, by Prof, J, Cloth.

Cr. 8vo.

307 pp.

1V0RKS. Translated from the Ger-

Clark Murray,

i

vol,

$2,00,

A life which forms one 0/ the most extraordinary biographies in the history 0/ literature.

The London Spectator says: "Dr. Clark Murray has had the rare good fortune of first presenting this singularly vivid book in an English translation as pure and lively as if it were an original, and an original by a classic English writer.

George Eliot, in "Daniel Deronda," mentions it as "tliat wonderful bit of the life of the Polish Jew, Solomon Maimon "; and Milman, autobiography in his " History of the Jews," refers to it as a curious and rare book.

—

HANDBOOK OF PSYCHOLOGY. LL

D,,

Professor of Mental and

Montreal.

Cr. 8vo.

3d editiott,

By

Clark Murray,

Prof. J.

Moral Philosophy, M'Gill College,

eiilarged and improved.

^1.75.

Clearly and simply written, with illustrations so well chosen student can scarcely fail to take an interest in the subject.

tliat

the dullest

ADOPTED FOR USE IN COLLEGES IN SCOTLAND, ENGLAND, CANADA, AND THE UNITED STATES. good fortune in bringing to light the " Maimojt Memoirs'' with the iiicreasing popularity of his ^'Handbook of Psychology" has attracted the attention of the intellectual world, giving him a position with the leaders of thought of the present age. His writings are at once Prof, MTurray's

togeilter

original and suggestive.

AALESUNCj to TETUAN. Travel. i2mo.

Cloth.

400 pp.

%

Chas. R. Cornino. A Volume of [Ready in September.

$2.00.

Table of Contents. — Portsmouth — Isle of Wight — Channel Islands — Normandy — Nice — Monte Carlo — Genoa — Naples and Environments — Rome — Verona — Venice — Norway — Sweden — St. Petersburg — Moscow — Warsaw — Berlin — Up the Rhine — Barcelona — Valencia — Seville — Cadiz — Morocco — Gibraltar — Granada — Madrid and the Royal Wedding— Bull Fi ^hts — Escurial — Biarritz — Bordeaux — Paris. its

TAPPY'S CHICKS:

or.

Links Between Nature and

By Mrs. George CurrLES. The tenderness and humor of

Illustrated. this

i6mo.

Cloth.

volume are simply

Human

Natur*.

$1.25.

exquisite.

E. P.

Whipple.

The

title is

altogether too insignificant for so delightful

— Spectator (London), It is not merely a work of genius. — George Macdonald.

talent, tut

has repeated strokes of undeniable [In preparation.

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THOMAS CARLYLE'S COUNSELS TO A LITERARY ASPIRANT (a Hitharto Unpiiblished Letter of 1S42), aiad What Came oi Them. ling,

By James Hutchinson Stir-

With a brief estimate of ths man.

LL. D. i2mOj boards, 50 cents.

Gives a side of the rugged old Scotchman which will be new to most readers. shows that he was not always gruff and bearish, and that he could at times somebody besides himself. The letter is one which every you7i.g tnan who has a leaning towards literary work will read and ponder over.

It

think of

SOCIAL LIFE AND LITERATURE FIFTY YEARS AGO. i6mo, cloth, white paper labels,

By a well-known

gilt top.

$1.00.

It will take a high place among the literature quaint and delightful book, exquisitely printed in the

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treating of the period.

A

Pickering style.

CIVILIZATION IN Arnold.

And

THE UNITED STATES.

Other Essays concerning America.

By Matthew

i6mo, unique paper

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Cloth, uncut, ^1.25.

Th^ cloth binding matches the 75 cents. uniform edition of his collected works.

Comprises the critical essays, which created so much discussion, namely, "General Grant, an Estimate." "A Word about America," "A Word more about America," and " Civilization in the United States."

*#* This collection gathers in the great

LEGENDS OF THE RHINE. Translated by Fr, Arnold.

contributions to literature.

critic's /a^/

From

the

German

Finely Illustrated.

of Prof.

Small

4to.

Bernard.

Cloth.

An admirable collection of the popular historical traditions of the Rhine, told with taste and picturesque simplicity. \jn press.

SELECTION

A

FROM

THE POEMS

OF

Translated, with Critical Notes and a Bibliography.

author of "Thoughts."

The

Foolscap Svo.

PUSHKIN.

By Ivan Panin,

Unique binding.

$2.00.

published translation by the brilliant young Russian, Ivan Panin, whose lectures in Boston on the literature of Russia, during the autumn of Ifcst year, attracted crowded houses. first

AND PATHOS, from the prose

WIT, WISDOM,

with a few pieces from the " Book of Songs."

J.

Second

Snodgrass.

edition^

of

Hhinrich Heine,

Selected and translated by

thoroughly revised.

Cr.

Svo, 338 pp.

Cloth, ^.00.

"A

treasure of almost priceless thought

and

criticism. "'â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

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