Nature - Ralph Waldo Emerson

7/29/2019 Nature - Ralph Waldo Emerson

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NATURE

BY

R. W. EMERSON

A subtle chain of countless rings

The next unto the farthest brings;The eye reads omens where it goes,

And speaks all languages the rose;

And, striving to be man, the worm


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Mounts through all the spires of form.

NEW EDITION

BOSTON & CAMBRIDGE:JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY

M DCCC XLIX.

Entered, according to the Act of Congress

in the year 1849

By JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANYin the Clerk's Office of the District Court

of the District of Massachusetts.


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BOSTON:

THURSTON, TORRY AND COMPANY

31 Devonshire Street.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION 1

CHAPTER I.NATURE 8

CHAPTER II. COMMODITY 10

CHAPTER III. BEAUTY 13

CHAPTER IV. LANGUAGE 23

CHAPTER V. DISCIPLINE 34

CHAPTER VI. IDEALISM 45

CHAPTER VII. SPIRIT 59

CHAPTER VIII. PROSPECTS 64


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NTRODUCTION.

OUR age is retrospective. It builds th

sepulchres of the fathers. It writebiographies, histories, and criticism. Th

foregoing generations beheld God an

nature face to face; we, through their eyes

Why should not we also enjoy an originarelation to the universe? Why should no

we have a poetry and philosophy o

nsight and not of tradition, and a religio

by revelation to us, and not the history o

heirs? Embosomed for a season in nature

whose floods of life stream around an

hrough us, and invite us by the power


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hey supply, to action proportioned to

nature, why should we grope among th

dry bones of the past, or put the livin

generation into masquerade out of itfaded wardrobe? The sun shines to-da

also. There is more wool and flax in th

fields. There are new lands, new men

new thoughts. Let us demand our owworks and laws and worship.

Undoubtedly we have no questions to as

which are unanswerable. We must trushe perfection of the creation so far, as to

believe that whatever curiosity the orde

of things has awakened in our minds, th

order of things can satisfy. Every man'

condition is a solution in hieroglyphic t

hose inquiries he would put. He acts it a

ife, before he apprehends it as truth. I


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ike manner, nature is already, in its form

and tendencies, describing its own design

Let us interrogate the great apparition, tha

shines so peacefully around us. Let unquire, to what end is nature?

All science has one aim, namely, to find

heory of nature. We have theories oraces and of functions, but scarcely yet

remote approach to an idea of creation

We are now so far from the road to truth

hat religious teachers dispute and hateach other, and speculative men ar

esteemed unsound and frivolous. But to

sound judgment, the most abstract truth i

he most practical. Whenever a true theor

appears, it will be its own evidence. It

est is, that it will explain all phenomena

ow many are thought not onl


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unexplained but inexplicable; as language

sleep, madness, dreams, beasts, sex.

Philosophically considered, the universs composed of Nature and the Sou

Strictly speaking, therefore, all that i

separate from us, all which Philosoph

distinguishes as the NOT ME, that is, botnature and art, all other men and my ow

body, must be ranked under this name

ATURE. In enumerating the values o

nature and casting up their sum, I shall ushe word in both senses;in its commo

and in its philosophical import. I

nquiries so general as our present one

he inaccuracy is not material; n

confusion of thought will occur.Nature, i

he common sense, refers to essence

unchanged by man; space, the air, th


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river, the leaf.Art is applied to th

mixture of his will with the same things

as in a house, a canal, a statue, a picture

But his operations taken together are snsignificant, a little chipping, baking

patching, and washing, that in a

mpression so grand as that of the worl

on the human mind, they do not vary thresult.

ATURE.

CHAPTER I.

TO go into solitude, a man needs to retir

as much from his chamber as from society


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am not solitary whilst I read and write

hough nobody is with me. But if a ma

would be alone, let him look at the stars

The rays that come from those heavenlworlds, will separate between him an

what he touches. One might think th

atmosphere was made transparent wit

his design, to give man, in the heavenlbodies, the perpetual presence of th

sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how

great they are! If the stars should appea

one night in a thousand years, how woul

men believe and adore; and preserve fo

many generations the remembrance of th

city of God which had been shown! Buevery night come out these envoys o

beauty, and light the universe with thei

admonishing smile.


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The stars awaken a certain reverence

because though always present, they ar

naccessible; but all natural objects mak

a kindred impression, when the mind iopen to their influence. Nature neve

wears a mean appearance. Neither doe

he wisest man extort her secret, and los

his curiosity by finding out all heperfection. Nature never became a toy to

wise spirit. The flowers, the animals, th

mountains, reflected the wisdom of hi

best hour, as much as they had delighted

he simplicity of his childhood.

When we speak of nature in this manner

we have a distinct but most poetical sens

n the mind. We mean the integrity o

mpression made by manifold natura

objects. It is this which distinguishes th


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stick of timber of the wood-cutter, fro

he tree of the poet. The charmin

andscape which I saw this morning, i

ndubitably made up of some twenty ohirty farms. Miller owns this field, Lock

hat, and Manning the woodland beyond

But none of them owns the landscape

There is a property in the horizon whicno man has but he whose eye can integrat

all the parts, that is, the poet. This is th

best part of these men's farms, yet to thi

heir warranty-deeds give no title.

To speak truly, few adult persons can see

nature. Most persons do not see the sun

At least they have a very superficia

seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye o

he man, but shines into the eye and th

heart of the child. The lover of nature is h


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whose inward and outward senses ar

still truly adjusted to each other; who ha

retained the spirit of infancy even into th

era of manhood. His intercourse witheaven and earth, becomes part of hi

daily food. In the presence of nature,

wild delight runs through the man, in spit

of real sorrows. Nature says,he is mcreature, and maugre all his impertinen

griefs, he shall be glad with me. Not th

sun or the summer alone, but every hou

and season yields its tribute of delight; fo

every hour and change corresponds to an

authorizes a different state of the mind

from breathless noon to grimmesmidnight. Nature is a setting that fit

equally well a comic or a mourning piece

n good health, the air is a cordial o

ncredible virtue. Crossing a bar


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common, in snow puddles, at twiligh

under a clouded sky, without having in m

houghts any occurrence of special goo

fortune, I have enjoyed a perfecexhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear

n the woods too, a man casts off hi

years, as the snake his slough, and at wha

period soever of life, is always a child. Ihe woods, is perpetual youth. Withi

hese plantations of God, a decorum an

sanctity reign, a perennial festival i

dressed, and the guest sees not how h

should tire of them in a thousand years. I

he woods, we return to reason and faith

There I feel that nothing can befall me iife,no disgrace, no calamity, (leavin

me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair

Standing on the bare ground,my hea

bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into


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nfinite space,all mean egotis

vanishes. I become a transparent eye-bal

am nothing; I see all; the currents of th

Universal Being circulate through me; am part or particle of God. The name o

he nearest friend sounds then foreign an

accidental: to be brothers, to b

acquaintances,master or servant, is thea trifle and a disturbance. I am the lover o

uncontained and immortal beauty. In th

wilderness, I find something more dea

and connate than in streets or villages. I

he tranquil landscape, and especially i

he distant line of the horizon, ma

beholds somewhat as beautiful as his ownature.

The greatest delight which the fields an

woods minister, is the suggestion of an


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occult relation between man and th

vegetable. I am not alone an

unacknowledged. They nod to me, and I t

hem. The waving of the boughs in thstorm, is new to me and old. It takes me b

surprise, and yet is not unknown. Its effec

s like that of a higher thought or a bette

emotion coming over me, when I deemed was thinking justly or doing right.

Yet it is certain that the power to produce

his delight, does not reside in nature, bun man, or in a harmony of both. It i

necessary to use these pleasures wit

great temperance. For, nature is no

always tricked in holiday attire, but th

same scene which yesterday breathe

perfume and glittered as for the frolic o

he nymphs, is overspread wit


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melancholy today. Nature always wear

he colors of the spirit. To a man laborin

under calamity, the heat of his own fir

hath sadness in it. Then, there is a kind ocontempt of the landscape felt by him wh

has just lost by death a dear friend. Th

sky is less grand as it shuts down ove

ess worth in the population.

CHAPTER II.

COMMODITY.

WHOEVER considers the final cause o

he world, will discern a multitude of use

hat result. They all admit of being throw


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nto one of the following classes

Commodity; Beauty; Language; an

Discipline.

Under the general name of Commodity,

rank all those advantages which ou

senses owe to nature. This, of course, is

benefit which is temporary and mediatenot ultimate, like its service to the sou

Yet although low, it is perfect in its kind

and is the only use of nature which all me

apprehend. The misery of man appearike childish petulance, when we explor

he steady and prodigal provision that ha

been made for his support and delight o

his green ball which floats him throug

he heavens. What angels invented thes

splendid ornaments, these ric

conveniences, this ocean of air above, thi


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ocean of water beneath, this firmament o

earth between? this zodiac of lights, thi

ent of dropping clouds, this striped coa

of climates, this fourfold year? Beastsfire, water, stones, and corn serve him

The field is at once his floor, his work

yard, his play-ground, his garden, and hi

bed.

"More servants wait on man

Than he'll take notice of."

ature, in its ministry to man, is not onl

he material, but is also the process an

he result. All the parts incessantly wor

nto each other's hands for the profit o

man. The wind sows the seed; the su

evaporates the sea; the wind blows th

vapor to the field; the ice, on the othe


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side of the planet, condenses rain on this

he rain feeds the plant; the plant feeds th

animal; and thus the endless circulation

of the divine charity nourish man.

The useful arts are reproductions or new

combinations by the wit of man, of th

same natural benefactors. He no longewaits for favoring gales, but by means o

steam, he realizes the fable of Aeolus'

bag, and carries the two and thirty wind

n the boiler of his boat. To diminisfriction, he paves the road with iron bars

and, mounting a coach with a ship-load o

men, animals, and merchandise behin

him, he darts through the country, fro

own to town, like an eagle or a swallow

hrough the air. By the aggregate of thes

aids, how is the face of the worl


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changed, from the era of Noah to that o

apoleon! The private poor man hat

cities, ships, canals, bridges, built for him

He goes to the post-office, and the humarace run on his errands; to the book-shop

and the human race read and write of al

hat happens, for him; to the court-house

and nations repair his wrongs. He sets hihouse upon the road, and the human rac

go forth every morning, and shovel out th

snow, and cut a path for him.

But there is no need of specifyin

particulars in this class of uses. Th

catalogue is endless, and the examples s

obvious, that I shall leave them to th

reader's reflection, with the genera

remark, that this mercenary benefit is on

which has respect to a farther good. A


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man is fed, not that he may be fed, but tha

he may work.

CHAPTER III.

BEAUTY.

A NOBLER want of man is served b

nature, namely, the love of Beauty.

The ancient Greeks called the worl

, beauty. Such is the constitution o

all things, or such the plastic power of thhuman eye, that the primary forms, as th

sky, the mountain, the tree, the animal

give us a delight in and for themselves;

pleasure arising from outline, color


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motion, and grouping. This seems partl

owing to the eye itself. The eye is the bes

of artists. By the mutual action of it

structure and of the laws of lightperspective is produced, which integrate

every mass of objects, of what characte

soever, into a well colored and shaded

globe, so that where the particular objectare mean and unaffecting, the landscap

which they compose, is round an

symmetrical. And as the eye is the bes

composer, so light is the first of painters

There is no object so foul that intense ligh

will not make beautiful. And the stimulu

t affords to the sense, and a sort onfinitude which it hath, like space an

ime, make all matter gay. Even the corps

has its own beauty. But besides thi

general grace diffused over nature, almos


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all the individual forms are agreeable t

he eye, as is proved by our endles

mitations of some of them, as the acorn

he grape, the pine-cone, the wheat-earhe egg, the wings and forms of mos

birds, the lion's claw, the serpent, th

butterfly, sea-shells, flames, clouds, buds

eaves, and the forms of many trees, as thpalm.

For better consideration, we ma

distribute the aspects of Beauty in hreefold manner.

1. First, the simple perception of natura

forms is a delight. The influence of th

forms and actions in nature, is so needfu

o man, that, in its lowest functions, i

seems to lie on the confines of commodit


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and beauty. To the body and mind which

have been cramped by noxious work o

company, nature is medicinal and restore

heir tone. The tradesman, the attornecomes out of the din and craft of the street

and sees the sky and the woods, and is

man again. In their eternal calm, he find

himself. The health of the eye seems tdemand a horizon. We are never tired, so

ong as we can see far enough.

But in other hours, Nature satisfies by itoveliness, and without any mixture o

corporeal benefit. I see the spectacle o

morning from the hill-top over against m

house, from day-break to sun-rise, wit

emotions which an angel might share. Th

ong slender bars of cloud float like fishe

n the sea of crimson light. From the earth


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as a shore, I look out into that silent sea.

seem to partake its rapid transformations

he active enchantment reaches my dus

and I dilate and conspire with the morninwind. How does Nature deify us with

few and cheap elements! Give me healt

and a day, and I will make the pomp o

emperors ridiculous. The dawn is mAssyria; the sun-set and moon-rise m

Paphos, and unimaginable realms o

faerie; broad noon shall be my England o

he senses and the understanding; the nigh

shall be my Germany of mystic philosoph

and dreams.

ot less excellent, except for our les

susceptibility in the afternoon, was th

charm, last evening, of a January sunse

The western clouds divided an


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subdivided themselves into pink flake

modulated with tints of unspeakabl

softness; and the air had so much life an

sweetness, that it was a pain to comwithin doors. What was it that natur

would say? Was there no meaning in the

ive repose of the valley behind the mil

and which Homer or Shakspeare could noreform for me in words? The leafles

rees become spires of flame in the sunset

with the blue east for their back-ground

and the stars of the dead calices o

flowers, and every withered stem an

stubble rimed with frost, contribut

something to the mute music.

The inhabitants of cities suppose that th

country landscape is pleasant only half th

year. I please myself with the graces of th


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winter scenery, and believe that we are a

much touched by it as by the genia

nfluences of summer. To the attentive eye

each moment of the year has its owbeauty, and in the same field, it beholds

every hour, a picture which was neve

seen before, and which shall never b

seen again. The heavens change evermoment, and reflect their glory or gloo

on the plains beneath. The state of the crop

n the surrounding farms alters th

expression of the earth from week t

week. The succession of native plants i

he pastures and roadsides, which make

he silent clock by which time tells thsummer hours, will make even th

divisions of the day sensible to a kee

observer. The tribes of birds and insects

ike the plants punctual to their time


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follow each other, and the year has roo

for all. By water-courses, the variety i

greater. In July, the blue pontederia o

pickerel-weed blooms in large beds in thshallow parts of our pleasant river, and

swarms with yellow butterflies i

continual motion. Art cannot rival thi

pomp of purple and gold. Indeed the rives a perpetual gala, and boasts each mont

a new ornament.

But this beauty of Nature which is seeand felt as beauty, is the least part. Th

shows of day, the dewy morning, th

rainbow, mountains, orchards in blossom

stars, moonlight, shadows in still water

and the like, if too eagerly hunted, becom

shows merely, and mock us with thei

unreality. Go out of the house to see th


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moon, and 't is mere tinsel; it will no

please as when its light shines upon you

necessary journey. The beauty tha

shimmers in the yellow afternoons oOctober, who ever could clutch it? Go

forth to find it, and it is gone: 't is only

mirage as you look from the windows o

diligence.

2. The presence of a higher, namely, of the

spiritual element is essential to it

perfection. The high and divine beautwhich can be loved without effeminacy, i

hat which is found in combination wit

he human will. Beauty is the mark Go

sets upon virtue. Every natural action i

graceful. Every heroic act is also decent

and causes the place and the bystanders t

shine. We are taught by great actions tha


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he universe is the property of ever

ndividual in it. Every rational creatur

has all nature for his dowry and estate. I

s his, if he will. He may divest himself ot; he may creep into a corner, and

abdicate his kingdom, as most men do, bu

he is entitled to the world by hi

constitution. In proportion to the energy ohis thought and will, he takes up the worl

nto himself. "All those things for whic

men plough, build, or sail, obey virtue;

said Sallust. "The winds and waves," sai

Gibbon, "are always on the side of th

ablest navigators." So are the sun an

moon and all the stars of heaven. When noble act is done,perchance in a scen

of great natural beauty; when Leonida

and his three hundred martyrs consum

one day in dying, and the sun and moo


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come each and look at them once in th

steep defile of Thermopylae; when Arnold

Winkelried, in the high Alps, under the

shadow of the avalanche, gathers in hiside a sheaf of Austrian spears to brea

he line for his comrades; are not thes

heroes entitled to add the beauty of th

scene to the beauty of the deed? When thbark of Columbus nears the shore o

America;before it, the beach lined wit

savages, fleeing out of all their huts o

cane; the sea behind; and the purpl

mountains of the Indian Archipelago

around, can we separate the man from th

iving picture? Does not the New Worldclothe his form with her palm-groves an

savannahs as fit drapery? Ever doe

natural beauty steal in like air, and

envelope great actions. When Sir Harr


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Vane was dragged up the Tower-hill

sitting on a sled, to suffer death, as th

champion of the English laws, one of th

multitude cried out to him, "You nevesate on so glorious a seat." Charles II., t

ntimidate the citizens of London, cause

he patriot Lord Russel to be drawn in a

open coach, through the principal streetof the city, on his way to the scaffold

"But," his biographer says, "the multitud

magined they saw liberty and virtu

sitting by his side." In private places

among sordid objects, an act of truth o

heroism seems at once to draw to itself th

sky as its temple, the sun as its candleature stretcheth out her arms to embrac

man, only let his thoughts be of equa

greatness. Willingly does she follow hi

steps with the rose and the violet, an


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bend her lines of grandeur and grace to th

decoration of her darling child. Only le

his thoughts be of equal scope, and th

frame will suit the picture. A virtuous mans in unison with her works, and makes th

central figure of the visible sphere

Homer, Pindar, Socrates, Phocion

associate themselves fitly in our memorwith the geography and climate of Greece

The visible heavens and earth sympathiz

with Jesus. And in common life

whosoever has seen a person of powerfu

character and happy genius, will hav

remarked how easily he took all thing

along with him,the persons, thopinions, and the day, and nature becam

ancillary to a man.

3. There is still another aspect unde


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which the beauty of the world may b

viewed, namely, as it becomes an objec

of the intellect. Beside the relation o

hings to virtue, they have a relation thought. The intellect searches out th

absolute order of things as they stand i

he mind of God, and without the colors o

affection. The intellectual and the activpowers seem to succeed each other, and

he exclusive activity of the one, generate

he exclusive activity of the other. There i

something unfriendly in each to the other

but they are like the alternate periods o

feeding and working in animals; eac

prepares and will be followed by thother. Therefore does beauty, which, in

relation to actions, as we have seen

comes unsought, and comes because it i

unsought, remain for the apprehension an


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pursuit of the intellect; and then again, i

ts turn, of the active power. Nothin

divine dies. All good is eternall

reproductive. The beauty of naturreforms itself in the mind, and not fo

barren contemplation, but for new

creation.

All men are in some degree impressed b

he face of the world; some men even t

delight. This love of beauty is Taste

Others have the same love in such excesshat, not content with admiring, they see

o embody it in new forms. The creation o

beauty is Art.

The production of a work of art throws

ight upon the mystery of humanity. A

work of art is an abstract or epitome of th


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world. It is the result or expression o

nature, in miniature. For, although th

works of nature are innumerable and al

different, the result or the expression ohem all is similar and single. Nature is

sea of forms radically alike and eve

unique. A leaf, a sun-beam, a landscape

he ocean, make an analogous impressioon the mind. What is common to them al

that perfectness and harmony, is beauty

The standard of beauty is the entire circui

of natural forms,the totality of nature

which the Italians expressed by definin

beauty "il piu nell' uno." Nothing is quit

beautiful alone: nothing but is beautiful ihe whole. A single object is only so fa

beautiful as it suggests this universa

grace. The poet, the painter, the sculptor

he musician, the architect, seek each t


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concentrate this radiance of the world o

one point, and each in his several work t

satisfy the love of beauty which stimulate

him to produce. Thus is Art, a naturpassed through the alembic of man. Thu

n art, does nature work through the wil

of a man filled with the beauty of her firs

works.

The world thus exists to the soul to satisf

he desire of beauty. This element I call an

ultimate end. No reason can be asked ogiven why the soul seeks beauty. Beauty

n its largest and profoundest sense, is on

expression for the universe. God is th

all-fair. Truth, and goodness, and beauty

are but different faces of the same All. Bu

beauty in nature is not ultimate. It is th

herald of inward and eternal beauty, and


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s not alone a solid and satisfactory good

t must stand as a part, and not as yet th

ast or highest expression of the fina

cause of Nature.

CHAPTER IV.

LANGUAGE.

LANGUAGE is a third use which Natur

subserves to man. Nature is the vehicle

and threefold degree.

1. Words are signs of natural facts.

2. Particular natural facts are symbols o

particular spiritual facts.


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3. Nature is the symbol of spirit.

1. Words are signs of natural facts. The

use of natural history is to give us aid isupernatural history: the use of the oute

creation, to give us language for the being

and changes of the inward creation. Ever

word which is used to express a moral ontellectual fact, if traced to its root, i

found to be borrowed from some materia

appearance.Right meansstraight; wrong

means twisted. Spirit primarily meanwind; transgression, the crossing of

ine; supercilious, the raising of th

eyebrow. We say the heart to expres

emotion, the head to denote thought; an

houghtand emotionare words borrowe

from sensible things, and now

appropriated to spiritual nature. Most o


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he process by which this transformatio

s made, is hidden from us in the remot

ime when language was framed; but th

same tendency may be daily observed ichildren. Children and savages use onl

nouns or names of things, which the

convert into verbs, and apply to analogou

mental acts.

2. But this origin of all words that conve

a spiritual import,so conspicuous a fac

n the history of language,is our leasdebt to nature. It is not words only that ar

emblematic; it is things which ar

emblematic. Every natural fact is a symbo

of some spiritual fact. Every appearanc

n nature corresponds to some state of th

mind, and that state of the mind can onl

be described by presenting that natura


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appearance as its picture. An enraged man

s a lion, a cunning man is a fox, a fir

man is a rock, a learned man is a torch. A

amb is innocence; a snake is subtle spiteflowers express to us the delicat

affections. Light and darkness are ou

familiar expression for knowledge an

gnorance; and heat for love. Visibldistance behind and before us, i

respectively our image of memory an

hope.

Who looks upon a river in a meditativ

hour, and is not reminded of the flux of al

hings? Throw a stone into the stream, an

he circles that propagate themselves ar

he beautiful type of all influence. Man i

conscious of a universal soul within o

behind his individual life, wherein, as in


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firmament, the natures of Justice, Truth

Love, Freedom, arise and shine. Thi

universal soul, he calls Reason: it is no

mine, or thine, or his, but we are its; ware its property and men. And the blue sk

n which the private earth is buried, th

sky with its eternal calm, and full o

everlasting orbs, is the type of ReasonThat which, intellectually considered, w

call Reason, considered in relation t

nature, we call Spirit. Spirit is th

Creator. Spirit hath life in itself. And man

n all ages and countries, embodies it i

his language, as the FATHER.

t is easily seen that there is nothing luck

or capricious in these analogies, but tha

hey are constant, and pervade nature

These are not the dreams of a few poets


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here and there, but man is an analogist

and studies relations in all objects. He i

placed in the centre of beings, and a ray o

relation passes from every other being thim. And neither can man be understood

without these objects, nor these object

without man. All the facts in natura

history taken by themselves, have nvalue, but are barren, like a single sex

But marry it to human history, and it is ful

of life. Whole Floras, all Linnaeus' an

Buffon's volumes, are dry catalogues o

facts; but the most trivial of these facts, th

habit of a plant, the organs, or work, o

noise of an insect, applied to thllustration of a fact in intellectua

philosophy, or, in any way associated to

human nature, affects us in the most livel

and agreeable manner. The seed of


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plant,to what affecting analogies in th

nature of man, is that little fruit made us

of, in all discourse, up to the voice o

Paul, who calls the human corpse a seed"It is sown a natural body; it is raised

spiritual body." The motion of the eart

round its axis, and round the sun, make

he day, and the year. These are certainamounts of brute light and heat. But i

here no intent of an analogy betwee

man's life and the seasons? And do th

seasons gain no grandeur or pathos fro

hat analogy? The instincts of the ant ar

very unimportant, considered as the ant's

but the moment a ray of relation is seen textend from it to man, and the little drudg

s seen to be a monitor, a little body with

a mighty heart, then all its habits, even tha

said to be recently observed, that it neve


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sleeps, become sublime.

Because of this radical correspondenc

between visible things and humahoughts, savages, who have only what i

necessary, converse in figures. As we go

back in history, language becomes mor

picturesque, until its infancy, when it is alpoetry; or all spiritual facts ar

represented by natural symbols. The sam

symbols are found to make the origina

elements of all languages. It has moreovebeen observed, that the idioms of al

anguages approach each other in passage

of the greatest eloquence and power. And

as this is the first language, so is it th

ast. This immediate dependence o

anguage upon nature, this conversion o

an outward phenomenon into a type o


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somewhat in human life, never loses it

power to affect us. It is this which give

hat piquancy to the conversation of

strong-natured farmer or back-woodsmanwhich all men relish.

A man's power to connect his thought wit

ts proper symbol, and so to utter itdepends on the simplicity of his character

hat is, upon his love of truth, and hi

desire to communicate it without loss. Th

corruption of man is followed by thcorruption of language. When simplicit

of character and the sovereignty of idea

s broken up by the prevalence o

secondary desires, the desire of riches, o

pleasure, of power, and of praise,and

duplicity and falsehood take place o

simplicity and truth, the power over natur


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as an interpreter of the will, is in a degre

ost; new imagery ceases to be created

and old words are perverted to stand fo

hings which are not; a paper currency iemployed, when there is no bullion in th

vaults. In due time, the fraud is manifes

and words lose all power to stimulate th

understanding or the affections. Hundredof writers may be found in every long

civilized nation, who for a short tim

believe, and make others believe, that the

see and utter truths, who do not o

hemselves clothe one thought in it

natural garment, but who fee

unconsciously on the language created bhe primary writers of the country, those

namely, who hold primarily on nature.

But wise men pierce this rotten dictio


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and fasten words again to visible things

so that picturesque language is at once

commanding certificate that he wh

employs it, is a man in alliance with trutand God. The moment our discourse rise

above the ground line of familiar facts

and is inflamed with passion or exalted b

hought, it clothes itself in images. A manconversing in earnest, if he watch hi

ntellectual processes, will find that

material image, more or less luminous

arises in his mind, cotemporaneous wit

every thought, which furnishes th

vestment of the thought. Hence, goo

writing and brilliant discourse arperpetual allegories. This imagery i

spontaneous. It is the blending o

experience with the present action of th

mind. It is proper creation. It is th


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working of the Original Cause through th

nstruments he has already made.

These facts may suggest the advantagwhich the country-life possesses for

powerful mind, over the artificial an

curtailed life of cities. We know more

from nature than we can at wilcommunicate. Its light flows into the min

evermore, and we forget its presence. Th

poet, the orator, bred in the woods, whos

senses have been nourished by their faiand appeasing changes, year after year

without design and without heed,shal

not lose their lesson altogether, in the roa

of cities or the broil of politics. Lon

hereafter, amidst agitation and terror i

national councils,in the hour o

revolution,these solemn images shal


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reappear in their morning lustre, as fi

symbols and words of the thoughts whic

he passing events shall awaken. At th

call of a noble sentiment, again the woodwave, the pines murmur, the river roll

and shines, and the cattle low upon th

mountains, as he saw and heard them i

his infancy. And with these forms, thespells of persuasion, the keys of powe

are put into his hands.

3. We are thus assisted by natural objectn the expression of particular meanings

But how great a language to convey suc

pepper-corn informations! Did it nee

such noble races of creatures, thi

profusion of forms, this host of orbs i

heaven, to furnish man with the dictionar

and grammar of his municipal speech


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Whilst we use this grand cipher t

expedite the affairs of our pot and kettle

we feel that we have not yet put it to it

use, neither are able. We are likeravellers using the cinders of a volcano t

roast their eggs. Whilst we see that i

always stands ready to clothe what w

would say, we cannot avoid the questionwhether the characters are not significan

of themselves. Have mountains, an

waves, and skies, no significance but wha

we consciously give them, when w

employ them as emblems of our thoughts

The world is emblematic. Parts of speec

are metaphors, because the whole onature is a metaphor of the human mind

The laws of moral nature answer to thos

of matter as face to face in a glass. "Th

visible world and the relation of its parts


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s the dial plate of the invisible." Th

axioms of physics translate the laws o

ethics. Thus, "the whole is greater than it

part;" "reaction is equal to action;" "thsmallest weight may be made to lift th

greatest, the difference of weight bein

compensated by time;" and many the lik

propositions, which have an ethical awell as physical sense. Thes

propositions have a much more extensiv

and universal sense when applied t

human life, than when confined t

echnical use.

n like manner, the memorable words o

history, and the proverbs of nations

consist usually of a natural fact, selecte

as a picture or parable of a moral truth

Thus; A rolling stone gathers no moss; A


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bird in the hand is worth two in the bush

A cripple in the right way, will beat a

racer in the wrong; Make hay while th

sun shines; 'T is hard to carry a full cueven; Vinegar is the son of wine; The las

ounce broke the camel's back; Long-live

rees make roots first;and the like. I

heir primary sense these are trivial factsbut we repeat them for the value of thei

analogical import. What is true o

proverbs, is true of all fables, parables

and allegories.

This relation between the mind and matte

s not fancied by some poet, but stands i

he will of God, and so is free to b

known by all men. It appears to men, or i

does not appear. When in fortunate hour

we ponder this miracle, the wise ma


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doubts, if, at all other times, he is no

blind and deaf;

"Can these things be,And overcome us like a summer'

cloud,

Without our special wonder?"

for the universe becomes transparent, an

he light of higher laws than its own

shines through it. It is the standin

problem which has exercised the wondeand the study of every fine genius since th

world began; from the era of the Egyptian

and the Brahmins, to that of Pythagoras, o

Plato, of Bacon, of Leibnitz, o

Swedenborg. There sits the Sphinx at th

road-side, and from age to age, as eac

prophet comes by, he tries his fortune a


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reading her riddle. There seems to be

necessity in spirit to manifest itself i

material forms; and day and night, rive

and storm, beast and bird, acid and alkalipreexist in necessary Ideas in the mind o

God, and are what they are by virtue o

preceding affections, in the world o

spirit. A Fact is the end or last issue ospirit. The visible creation is the terminu

or the circumference of the invisibl

world. "Material objects," said a Frenc

philosopher, "are necessarily kinds o

scoriae of the substantial thoughts of th

Creator, which must always preserve a

exact relation to their first origin; in othewords, visible nature must have a spiritua

and moral side."

This doctrine is abstruse, and though th


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mages of "garment," "scoriae," "mirror,

&c., may stimulate the fancy, we mus

summon the aid of subtler and more vita

expositors to make it plain. "Everscripture is to be interpreted by the sam

spirit which gave it forth,"is th

fundamental law of criticism. A life in

harmony with nature, the love of truth anof virtue, will purge the eyes t

understand her text. By degrees we ma

come to know the primitive sense of th

permanent objects of nature, so that th

world shall be to us an open book, an

every form significant of its hidden lif

and final cause.

A new interest surprises us, whilst, unde

he view now suggested, we contemplat

he fearful extent and multitude of objects


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since "every object rightly seen, unlocks

new faculty of the soul." That which wa

unconscious truth, becomes, whe

nterpreted and defined in an object, a parof the domain of knowledge,a new

weapon in the magazine of power.

CHAPTER V.

DISCIPLINE.

N view of the significance of nature, w

arrive at once at a new fact, that nature ia discipline. This use of the worl

ncludes the preceding uses, as parts o

tself.


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Space, time, society, labor, climate, food

ocomotion, the animals, the mechanica

forces, give us sincerest lessons, day b

day, whose meaning is unlimited. Theeducate both the Understanding and th

Reason. Every property of matter is

school for the understanding,its solidit

or resistance, its inertia, its extension, itfigure, its divisibility. The understandin

adds, divides, combines, measures, an

finds nutriment and room for its activity i

his worthy scene. Meantime, Reaso

ransfers all these lessons into its ow

world of thought, by perceiving th

analogy that marries Matter and Mind.

1. Nature is a discipline of th

understanding in intellectual truths. Ou

dealing with sensible objects is a constan


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exercise in the necessary lessons o

difference, of likeness, of order, of bein

and seeming, of progressive arrangemen

of ascent from particular to general; ocombination to one end of manifol

forces. Proportioned to the importance o

he organ to be formed, is the extreme car

with which its tuition is provided,a carpretermitted in no single case. Wha

edious training, day after day, year afte

year, never ending, to form the commo

sense; what continual reproduction o

annoyances, inconveniences, dilemmas

what rejoicing over us of little men; wha

disputing of prices, what reckonings onterest,and all to form the Hand of th

mind;to instruct us that "good thought

are no better than good dreams, unles

hey be executed!"


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The same good office is performed b

Property and its filial systems of debt an

credit. Debt, grinding debt, whose iro

face the widow, the orphan, and the sonof genius fear and hate;debt, whic

consumes so much time, which so cripple

and disheartens a great spirit with care

hat seem so base, is a preceptor whosessons cannot be forgone, and is neede

most by those who suffer from it most

Moreover, property, which has been wel

compared to snow,"if it fall level to

day, it will be blown into drifts to

morrow,"is the surface action o

nternal machinery, like the index on thface of a clock. Whilst now it is th

gymnastics of the understanding, it i

hiving in the foresight of the spirit

experience in profounder laws.


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The whole character and fortune of th

ndividual are affected by the leas

nequalities in the culture of th

understanding; for example, in thperception of differences. Therefore i

Space, and therefore Time, that man ma

know that things are not huddled an

umped, but sundered and individual. Abell and a plough have each their use, an

neither can do the office of the other

Water is good to drink, coal to burn, woo

o wear; but wool cannot be drunk, no

water spun, nor coal eaten. The wise ma

shows his wisdom in separation, i

gradation, and his scale of creatures anof merits is as wide as nature. The foolis

have no range in their scale, but suppos

every man is as every other man. What i

not good they call the worst, and what i


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not hateful, they call the best.

n like manner, what good heed, natur

forms in us! She pardons no mistakes. Heyea is yea, and her nay, nay.

The first steps in Agriculture, Astronomy

Zology, (those first steps which thfarmer, the hunter, and the sailor take,

each that nature's dice are always loaded

hat in her heaps and rubbish ar

concealed sure and useful results.

How calmly and genially the min

apprehends one after another the laws o

physics! What noble emotions dilate thmortal as he enters into the counsels of th

creation, and feels by knowledge th

privilege to BE! His insight refines him


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The beauty of nature shines in his ow

breast. Man is greater that he can see this

and the universe less, because Time and

Space relations vanish as laws are known

Here again we are impressed and eve

daunted by the immense Universe to b

explored. "What we know, is a point towhat we do not know." Open any recen

ournal of science, and weigh th

problems suggested concerning Ligh

Heat, Electricity, Magnetism, PhysiologyGeology, and judge whether the interest o

natural science is likely to be soo

exhausted.

Passing by many particulars of th

discipline of nature, we must not omit t

specify two.


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The exercise of the Will or the lesson o

power is taught in every event. From th

child's successive possession of hi

several senses up to the hour when hsaith, "Thy will be done!" he is learnin

he secret, that he can reduce under hi

will, not only particular events, but grea

classes, nay the whole series of eventsand so conform all facts to his character

ature is thoroughly mediate. It is made t

serve. It receives the dominion of man a

meekly as the ass on which the Saviou

rode. It offers all its kingdoms to man a

he raw material which he may mould int

what is useful. Man is never weary oworking it up. He forges the subtile an

delicate air into wise and melodiou

words, and gives them wing as angels o

persuasion and command. One afte


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another, his victorious thought comes up

with and reduces all things, until th

world becomes, at last, only a realize

will,the double of the man.

2. Sensible objects conform to th

premonitions of Reason and reflect th

conscience. All things are moral; and iheir boundless changes have an unceasin

reference to spiritual nature. Therefore i

nature glorious with form, color, and

motion, that every globe in the remotesheaven; every chemical change from th

rudest crystal up to the laws of life; ever

change of vegetation from the firs

principle of growth in the eye of a leaf, t

he tropical forest and antediluvian coal

mine; every animal function from th

sponge up to Hercules, shall hint o


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hunder to man the laws of right an

wrong, and echo the Ten Commandments

Therefore is nature ever the ally o

Religion: lends all her pomp and riches the religious sentiment. Prophet and priest

David, Isaiah, Jesus, have drawn deepl

from this source. This ethical character s

penetrates the bone and marrow of natureas to seem the end for which it was made

Whatever private purpose is answered b

any member or part, this is its public an

universal function, and is never omitted

othing in nature is exhausted in its firs

use. When a thing has served an end to th

uttermost, it is wholly new for an ulterioservice. In God, every end is converte

nto a new means. Thus the use o

commodity, regarded by itself, is mea

and squalid. But it is to the mind a


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education in the doctrine of Use, namely

hat a thing is good only so far as it serves

hat a conspiring of parts and efforts to th

production of an end, is essential to anbeing. The first and gross manifestation o

his truth, is our inevitable and hate

raining in values and wants, in corn an

meat.

t has already been illustrated, that ever

natural process is a version of a mora

sentence. The moral law lies at the centrof nature and radiates to th

circumference. It is the pith and marrow o

every substance, every relation, and ever

process. All things with which we deal

preach to us. What is a farm but a mut

gospel? The chaff and the wheat, weed

and plants, blight, rain, insects, sun,it i


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a sacred emblem from the first furrow o

spring to the last stack which the snow o

winter overtakes in the fields. But th

sailor, the shepherd, the miner, themerchant, in their several resorts, hav

each an experience precisely parallel, an

eading to the same conclusion: becaus

all organizations are radically alike. Nocan it be doubted that this moral sentimen

which thus scents the air, grows in th

grain, and impregnates the waters of th

world, is caught by man and sinks into hi

soul. The moral influence of nature upo

every individual is that amount of trut

which it illustrates to him. Who caestimate this? Who can guess how muc

firmness the sea-beaten rock has taught th

fisherman? how much tranquillity has bee

reflected to man from the azure sky, ove


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whose unspotted deeps the wind

forevermore drive flocks of storm

clouds, and leave no wrinkle or stain

how much industry and providence anaffection we have caught from th

pantomime of brutes? What a searchin

preacher of self-command is the varyin

phenomenon of Health!

Herein is especially apprehended the unit

of Nature,the unity in variety,whic

meets us everywhere. All the endlesvariety of things make an identica

mpression. Xenophanes complained i

his old age, that, look where he would, al

hings hastened back to Unity. He wa

weary of seeing the same entity in th

edious variety of forms. The fable o

Proteus has a cordial truth. A leaf, a drop


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a crystal, a moment of time is related t

he whole, and partakes of the perfectio

of the whole. Each particle is

microcosm, and faithfully renders thikeness of the world.

ot only resemblances exist in thing

whose analogy is obvious, as when wdetect the type of the human hand in th

flipper of the fossil saurus, but also i

objects wherein there is great superficia

unlikeness. Thus architecture is calle"frozen music," by De Stael and Goethe

Vitruvius thought an architect should be

musician. "A Gothic church," said

Coleridge, "is a petrified religion.

Michael Angelo maintained, that, to a

architect, a knowledge of anatomy i

essential. In Haydn's oratorios, the note


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present to the imagination not onl

motions, as, of the snake, the stag, and th

elephant, but colors also; as the gree

grass. The law of harmonic soundreappears in the harmonic colors. Th

granite is differenced in its laws only b

he more or less of heat, from the river tha

wears it away. The river, as it flowsresembles the air that flows over it; the ai

resembles the light which traverses it wit

more subtile currents; the light resemble

he heat which rides with it through Space

Each creature is only a modification of th

other; the likeness in them is more than th

difference, and their radical law is onand the same. A rule of one art, or a law

of one organization, holds true throughou

nature. So intimate is this Unity, that, it i

easily seen, it lies under the undermos


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garment of nature, and betrays its sourc

n Universal Spirit. For, it pervade

Thought also. Every universal truth whic

we express in words, implies or supposeevery other truth. Omne verum vero

consonat. It is like a great circle on

sphere, comprising all possible circles

which, however, may be drawn, andcomprise it, in like manner. Every suc

ruth is the absolute Ens seen from on

side. But it has innumerable sides.

The central Unity is still mor

conspicuous in actions. Words are finite

organs of the infinite mind. They canno

cover the dimensions of what is in truth

They break, chop, and impoverish it. A

action is the perfection and publication o

hought. A right action seems to fill the


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eye, and to be related to all nature. "Th

wise man, in doing one thing, does all; or

n the one thing he does rightly, he sees th

ikeness of all which is done rightly."

Words and actions are not the attributes o

brute nature. They introduce us to th

human form, of which all otheorganizations appear to be degradations

When this appears among so many tha

surround it, the spirit prefers it to al

others. It says, 'From such as this, have drawn joy and knowledge; in such as this

have I found and beheld myself; I wil

speak to it; it can speak again; it can yiel

me thought already formed and alive.' I

fact, the eye,the mind,is alway

accompanied by these forms, male an

female; and these are incomparably th


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richest informations of the power an

order that lie at the heart of things

Unfortunately, every one of them bears th

marks as of some injury; is marred ansuperficially defective. Nevertheless, fa

different from the deaf and dumb natur

around them, these all rest like fountain

pipes on the unfathomed sea of thought anvirtue whereto they alone, of al

organizations, are the entrances.

t were a pleasant inquiry to follow intdetail their ministry to our education, bu

where would it stop? We are associated

n adolescent and adult life with som

friends, who, like skies and waters, ar

coextensive with our idea; who

answering each to a certain affection o

he soul, satisfy our desire on that side


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whom we lack power to put at such foca

distance from us, that we can mend o

even analyze them. We cannot choose bu

ove them. When much intercourse with friend has supplied us with a standard o

excellence, and has increased our respec

for the resources of God who thus sends

real person to outgo our ideal; when hhas, moreover, become an object o

hought, and, whilst his character retain

all its unconscious effect, is converted i

he mind into solid and sweet wisdom,i

s a sign to us that his office is closing

and he is commonly withdrawn from ou

sight in a short time.


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CHAPTER VI.

DEALISM.

THUS is the unspeakable but intelligibl

and practicable meaning of the worl

conveyed to man, the immortal pupil, i

every object of sense. To this one end oDiscipline, all parts of nature conspire.

A noble doubt perpetually suggests itself

whether this end be not the Final Cause ohe Universe; and whether natur

outwardly exists. It is a sufficient accoun

of that Appearance we call the World, tha

God will teach a human mind, and smakes it the receiver of a certain numbe

of congruent sensations, which we call su

and moon, man and woman, house an


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rade. In my utter impotence to test th

authenticity of the report of my senses, t

know whether the impressions they mak

on me correspond with outlying objectswhat difference does it make, whethe

Orion is up there in heaven, or some go

paints the image in the firmament of th

soul? The relations of parts and the end ohe whole remaining the same, what is th

difference, whether land and sea interact

and worlds revolve and intermingl

without number or end,deep yawnin

under deep, and galaxy balancing galaxy

hroughout absolute space,or, whether

without relations of time and space, thsame appearances are inscribed in th

constant faith of man? Whether natur

enjoy a substantial existence without, or i

only in the apocalypse of the mind, it i


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alike useful and alike venerable to me. B

t what it may, it is ideal to me, so long a

cannot try the accuracy of my senses.

The frivolous make themselves merry wit

he Ideal theory, if its consequences wer

burlesque; as if it affected the stability o

nature. It surely does not. God never jestwith us, and will not compromise the en

of nature, by permitting any inconsequenc

n its procession. Any distrust of th

permanence of laws, would paralyze thfaculties of man. Their permanence i

sacredly respected, and his faith therein i

perfect. The wheels and springs of ma

are all set to the hypothesis of th

permanence of nature. We are not buil

ike a ship to be tossed, but like a house t

stand. It is a natural consequence of thi


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structure, that, so long as the activ

powers predominate over the reflective

we resist with indignation any hint tha

nature is more short-lived or mutable thaspirit. The broker, the wheelwright, th

carpenter, the toll-man, are muc

displeased at the intimation.

But whilst we acquiesce entirely in th

permanence of natural laws, the questio

of the absolute existence of nature stil

remains open. It is the uniform effect oculture on the human mind, not to shak

our faith in the stability of particula

phenomena, as of heat, water, azote; but to

ead us to regard nature as a phenomenon

not a substance; to attribute necessar

existence to spirit; to esteem nature as a

accident and an effect.


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To the senses and the unrenewed

understanding, belongs a sort o

nstinctive belief in the absolute existenc

of nature. In their view, man and naturare indissolubly joined. Things ar

ultimates, and they never look beyon

heir sphere. The presence of Reason mar

his faith. The first effort of thought tendo relax this despotism of the senses

which binds us to nature as if we were

part of it, and shows us nature aloof, and

as it were, afloat. Until this higher agenc

ntervened, the animal eye sees, wit

wonderful accuracy, sharp outlines and

colored surfaces. When the eye of Reasoopens, to outline and surface are at onc

added, grace and expression. Thes

proceed from imagination and affection

and abate somewhat of the angula


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distinctness of objects. If the Reason b

stimulated to more earnest vision, outline

and surfaces become transparent, and ar

no longer seen; causes and spirits are seehrough them. The best moments of life ar

hese delicious awakenings of the highe

powers, and the reverential withdrawin

of nature before its God.

Let us proceed to indicate the effects o

culture. 1. Our first institution in the Idea

philosophy is a hint from nature herself.

ature is made to conspire with spirit t

emancipate us. Certain mechanica

changes, a small alteration in our loca

position apprizes us of a dualism. We are

strangely affected by seeing the shore fro

a moving ship, from a balloon, or throug


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he tints of an unusual sky. The leas

change in our point of view, gives th

whole world a pictorial air. A man who

seldom rides, needs only to get into coach and traverse his own town, to tur

he street into a puppet-show. The men

he women,talking, running, bartering

fighting,the earnest mechanic, thounger, the beggar, the boys, the dogs, are

unrealized at once, or, at least, wholl

detached from all relation to the observer

and seen as apparent, not substantia

beings. What new thoughts are suggeste

by seeing a face of country quite familiar

n the rapid movement of the rail-road caray, the most wonted objects, (make

very slight change in the point of vision,

please us most. In a camera obscura, th

butcher's cart, and the figure of one of ou


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own family amuse us. So a portrait of

well-known face gratifies us. Turn th

eyes upside down, by looking at th

andscape through your legs, and howagreeable is the picture, though you hav

seen it any time these twenty years!

n these cases, by mechanical means, isuggested the difference between th

observer and the spectacle,betwee

man and nature. Hence arises a pleasur

mixed with awe; I may say, a low degreof the sublime is felt from the fac

probably, that man is hereby apprized

hat, whilst the world is a spectacle

something in himself is stable.

2. In a higher manner, the poe

communicates the same pleasure. By


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few strokes he delineates, as on air, th

sun, the mountain, the camp, the city, th

hero, the maiden, not different from wha

we know them, but only lifted from thground and afloat before the eye. H

unfixes the land and the sea, makes the

revolve around the axis of his primar

hought, and disposes them anewPossessed himself by a heroic passion, h

uses matter as symbols of it. The sensua

man conforms thoughts to things; the poe

conforms things to his thoughts. The on

esteems nature as rooted and fast; th

other, as fluid, and impresses his bein

hereon. To him, the refractory world iductile and flexible; he invests dust an

stones with humanity, and makes them th

words of the Reason. The Imagination ma

be defined to be, the use which the Reaso


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makes of the material world. Shakspear

possesses the power of subordinatin

nature for the purposes of expression

beyond all poets. His imperial musosses the creation like a bauble from han

o hand, and uses it to embody any capric

of thought that is upper-most in his mind

The remotest spaces of nature are visitedand the farthest sundered things ar

brought together, by a subtle spiritua

connection. We are made aware tha

magnitude of material things is relative

and all objects shrink and expand to serv

he passion of the poet. Thus, in hi

sonnets, the lays of birds, the scents andyes of flowers, he finds to be theshadow

of his beloved; time, which keeps he

from him, is his chest; the suspicion sh

has awakened, is her ornament;


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The ornament of beauty is Suspect,

A crow which flies in heaven'

sweetest air.

His passion is not the fruit of chance; i

swells, as he speaks, to a city, or a state.

No, it was builded far from accident;It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls

Under the brow of thralling discontent

It fears not policy, that heretic,

That works on leases of shornumbered hours,

But all alone stands hugely politic.

n the strength of his constancy, thPyramids seem to him recent an

ransitory. The freshness of youth and lov

dazzles him with its resemblance t


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morning.

Take those lips away

Which so sweetly were forsworn;And those eyes,the break of day,

Lights that do mislead the morn.

The wild beauty of this hyperbole, I masay, in passing, it would not be easy to

match in literature.

This transfiguration which all materiaobjects undergo through the passion of th

poet,this power which he exerts t

dwarf the great, to magnify the small,

might be illustrated by a thousanexamples from his Plays. I have before m

he Tempest, and will cite only these few

ines.


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ARIEL. The strong based promontory

Have I made shake, and by the spur

plucked up

The pine and cedar.

Prospero calls for music to soothe th

frantic Alonzo, and his companions;

A solemn air, and the best comforter

To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains

Now useless, boiled within thy skull.

Again;

The charm dissolves apace,

And, as the morning steals upon thnight,

Melting the darkness, so their risin

senses


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Begin to chase the ignorant fumes tha

mantle

Their clearer reason.

Their understandingBegins to swell: and the approachin

ide

Will shortly fill the reasonable shores

That now lie foul and muddy.

The perception of real affinities betwee

events, (that is to say, of ideal affinities

for those only are real,) enables the poehus to make free with the most imposin

forms and phenomena of the world, and t

assert the predominance of the soul.

3. Whilst thus the poet animates natur

with his own thoughts, he differs from th

philosopher only herein, that the on


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proposes Beauty as his main end; the othe

Truth. But the philosopher, not less than

he poet, postpones the apparent order an

relations of things to the empire of thought"The problem of philosophy," accordin

o Plato, "is, for all that exist

conditionally, to find a ground

unconditioned and absolute." It proceedon the faith that a law determines al

phenomena, which being known, th

phenomena can be predicted. That law

when in the mind, is an idea. Its beauty i

nfinite. The true philosopher and the tru

poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth

and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim oboth. Is not the charm of one of Plato's o

Aristotle's definitions, strictly like that o

he Antigone of Sophocles? It is, in bot

cases, that a spiritual life has bee


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mparted to nature; that the solid seemin

block of matter has been pervaded an

dissolved by a thought; that this feebl

human being has penetrated the vasmasses of nature with an informing sou

and recognised itself in their harmony, tha

s, seized their law. In physics, when thi

s attained, the memory disburthens itselof its cumbrous catalogues of particulars

and carries centuries of observation in

single formula.

Thus even in physics, the material i

degraded before the spiritual. Th

astronomer, the geometer, rely on thei

rrefragable analysis, and disdain th

results of observation. The sublim

remark of Euler on his law of arches

"This will be found contrary to al


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experience, yet is true;" had alread

ransferred nature into the mind, and lef

matter like an outcast corpse.

4. Intellectual science has been observe

o beget invariably a doubt of th

existence of matter. Turgot said, "He tha

has never doubted the existence of mattermay be assured he has no aptitude fo

metaphysical inquiries." It fastens th

attention upon immortal necessar

uncreated natures, that is, upon Ideas; ann their presence, we feel that the outwar

circumstance is a dream and a shade

Whilst we wait in this Olympus of gods

we think of nature as an appendix to th

soul. We ascend into their region, and

know that these are the thoughts of th

Supreme Being. "These are they who wer


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set up from everlasting, from th

beginning, or ever the earth was. When h

prepared the heavens, they were there

when he established the clouds abovewhen he strengthened the fountains of th

deep. Then they were by him, as on

brought up with him. Of them took h

counsel."

Their influence is proportionate. A

objects of science, they are accessible t

few men. Yet all men are capable of beingraised by piety or by passion, into thei

region. And no man touches these divin

natures, without becoming, in som

degree, himself divine. Like a new sou

hey renew the body. We become

physically nimble and lightsome; we trea

on air; life is no longer irksome, and w


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hink it will never be so. No man fears ag

or misfortune or death, in their seren

company, for he is transported out of th

district of change. Whilst we beholunveiled the nature of Justice and Truth

we learn the difference between th

absolute and the conditional or relative

We apprehend the absolute. As it werefor the first time, we exist. We become

mmortal, for we learn that time and spac

are relations of matter; that, with

perception of truth, or a virtuous will, the

have no affinity.

5. Finally, religion and ethics, which ma

be fitly called,the practice of ideas, o

he introduction of ideas into life,hav

an analogous effect with all lower culture

n degrading nature and suggesting it


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dependence on spirit. Ethics and religio

differ herein; that the one is the system o

human duties commencing from man; th

other, from God. Religion includes thpersonality of God; Ethics does not. The

are one to our present design. They bot

put nature under foot. The first and las

esson of religion is, "The things that arseen, are temporal; the things that ar

unseen, are eternal." It puts an affront upo

nature. It does that for the unschooled

which philosophy does for Berkeley an

Viasa. The uniform language that may b

heard in the churches of the most ignoran

sects, is,"Contemn the unsubstantiashows of the world; they are vanities

dreams, shadows, unrealities; seek th

realities of religion." The devotee flout

nature. Some theosophists have arrived a


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a certain hostility and indignation toward

matter, as the Manichean and Plotinus

They distrusted in themselves any lookin

back to these flesh-pots of Egypt. Plotinuwas ashamed of his body. In short, the

might all say of matter, what Michae

Angelo said of external beauty, "it is th

frail and weary weed, in which Godresses the soul, which he has called int

ime."

t appears that motion, poetry, physicaand intellectual science, and religion, al

end to affect our convictions of the realit

of the external world. But I own there i

something ungrateful in expanding to

curiously the particulars of the genera

proposition, that all culture tends to imbu

us with idealism. I have no hostility t


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nature, but a child's love to it. I expan

and live in the warm day like corn an

melons. Let us speak her fair. I do no

wish to fling stones at my beautifumother, nor soil my gentle nest. I onl

wish to indicate the true position of natur

n regard to man, wherein to establis

man, all right education tends; as thground which to attain is the object o

human life, that is, of man's connectio

with nature. Culture inverts the vulga

views of nature, and brings the mind t

call that apparent, which it uses to cal

real, and that real, which it uses to cal

visionary. Children, it is true, believe ihe external world. The belief that i

appears only, is an afterthought, but wit

culture, this faith will as surely arise o

he mind as did the first.


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The advantage of the ideal theory over th

popular faith, is this, that it presents th

world in precisely that view which i

most desirable to the mind. It is, in facthe view which Reason, both speculativ

and practical, that is, philosophy an

virtue, take. For, seen in the light o

hought, the world always is phenomenaand virtue subordinates it to the mind

dealism sees the world in God. It behold

he whole circle of persons and things, o

actions and events, of country an

religion, not as painfully accumulated

atom after atom, act after act, in an age

creeping Past, but as one vast picturewhich God paints on the instant eternity

for the contemplation of the sou

Therefore the soul holds itself off from

oo trivial and microscopic study of th


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universal tablet. It respects the end to

much, to immerse itself in the means. I

sees something more important i

Christianity, than the scandals oecclesiastical history, or the niceties o

criticism; and, very incurious concernin

persons or miracles, and not at al

disturbed by chasms of historicaevidence, it accepts from God th

phenomenon, as it finds it, as the pure an

awful form of religion in the world. It i

not hot and passionate at the appearanc

of what it calls its own good or ba

fortune, at the union or opposition of othe

persons. No man is its enemy. It acceptwhatsoever befalls, as part of its lesson. I

s a watcher more than a doer, and it is

doer, only that it may the better watch.


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CHAPTER VII.

SPIRIT.

T is essential to a true theory of naturand of man, that it should contai

somewhat progressive. Uses that ar

exhausted or that may be, and facts tha

end in the statement, cannot be all that irue of this brave lodging wherein man i

harbored, and wherein all his facultie

find appropriate and endless exercise

And all the uses of nature admit of beinsummed in one, which yields the activit

of man an infinite scope. Through all it

kingdoms, to the suburbs and outskirts o


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hings, it is faithful to the cause whence i

had its origin. It always speaks of Spirit. I

suggests the absolute. It is a perpetua

effect. It is a great shadow pointinalways to the sun behind us.

The aspect of nature is devout. Like th

figure of Jesus, she stands with bendehead, and hands folded upon the breast

The happiest man is he who learns fro

nature the lesson of worship.

Of that ineffable essence which we cal

Spirit, he that thinks most, will say least

We can foresee God in the coarse, and, a

t were, distant phenomena of matter; bu

when we try to define and describ

himself, both language and thought deser

us, and we are as helpless as fools an


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savages. That essence refuses to b

recorded in propositions, but when ma

has worshipped him intellectually, th

noblest ministry of nature is to stand as thapparition of God. It is the organ throug

which the universal spirit speaks to th

ndividual, and strives to lead back th

ndividual to it.

When we consider Spirit, we see that th

views already presented do not includ

he whole circumference of man. We musadd some related thoughts.

Three problems are put by nature to th

mind; What is matter? Whence is it? an

Whereto? The first of these question

only, the ideal theory answers. Idealis

saith: matter is a phenomenon, not


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substance. Idealism acquaints us with th

otal disparity between the evidence o

our own being, and the evidence of th

world's being. The one is perfect; thother, incapable of any assurance; th

mind is a part of the nature of things; th

world is a divine dream, from which w

may presently awake to the glories ancertainties of day. Idealism is a hypothesi

o account for nature by other principle

han those of carpentry and chemistry. Yet

f it only deny the existence of matter, i

does not satisfy the demands of the spirit

t leaves God out of me. It leaves me i

he splendid labyrinth of my perceptionso wander without end. Then the hear

resists it, because it balks the affections i

denying substantive being to men an

women. Nature is so pervaded with huma


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ife, that there is something of humanity i

all, and in every particular. But this theory

makes nature foreign to me, and does no

account for that consanguinity which wacknowledge to it.

Let it stand, then, in the present state o

our knowledge, merely as a usefuntroductory hypothesis, serving to appriz

us of the eternal distinction between th

soul and the world.

But when, following the invisible steps o

hought, we come to inquire, Whence i

matter? and Whereto? many truths arise t

us out of the recesses of consciousness

We learn that the highest is present to the

soul of man, that the dread universa

essence, which is not wisdom, or love, o


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beauty, or power, but all in one, and each

entirely, is that for which all things exist

and that by which they are; that spiri

creates; that behind nature, throughounature, spirit is present; one and no

compound, it does not act upon us fro

without, that is, in space and time, bu

spiritually, or through ourselvesherefore, that spirit, that is, the Suprem

Being, does not build up nature around us

but puts it forth through us, as the life o

he tree puts forth new branches an

eaves through the pores of the old. As

plant upon the earth, so a man rests upo

he bosom of God; he is nourished bunfailing fountains, and draws, at his need

nexhaustible power. Who can set bound

o the possibilities of man? Once inhal

he upper air, being admitted to behold th


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absolute natures of justice and truth, an

we learn that man has access to the entir

mind of the Creator, is himself the creato

n the finite. This view, which admonisheme where the sources of wisdom an

power lie, and points to virtue as to

"The golden keyWhich opes the palace of eternity,"

carries upon its face the highest certificat

of truth, because it animates me to creatmy own world through the purification o

my soul.

The world proceeds from the same spirias the body of man. It is a remoter an

nferior incarnation of God, a projectio

of God in the unconscious. But it differ


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from the body in one important respect. I

s not, like that, now subjected to th

human will. Its serene order is inviolabl

by us. It is, therefore, to us, the presenexpositor of the divine mind. It is a fixe

point whereby we may measure ou

departure. As we degenerate, the contras

between us and our house is more evidenWe are as much strangers in nature, as we

are aliens from God. We do no

understand the notes of birds. The fox an

he deer run away from us; the bear an

iger rend us. We do not know the uses o

more than a few plants, as corn and th

apple, the potato and the vine. Is not thandscape, every glimpse of which hath

grandeur, a face of him? Yet this may

show us what discord is between man an

nature, for you cannot freely admire


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noble landscape, if laborers are digging i

he field hard by. The poet finds somethin

ridiculous in his delight, until he is out o

he sight of men.

CHAPTER VIII.

PROSPECTS.

N inquiries respecting the laws of th

world and the frame of things, the highes

reason is always the truest. That whic

seems faintly possibleit is so refined, ioften faint and dim because it is deepes

seated in the mind among the eterna

verities. Empirical science is apt to clou


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he sight, and, by the very knowledge o

functions and processes, to bereave th

student of the manly contemplation of th

whole. The savant becomes unpoetic. Buhe best read naturalist who lends a

entire and devout attention to truth, wil

see that there remains much to learn of hi

relation to the world, and that it is not tbe learned by any addition or subtractio

or other comparison of known quantities

but is arrived at by untaught sallies of th

spirit, by a continual self-recovery, and b

entire humility. He will perceive that ther

are far more excellent qualities in th

student than preciseness and infallibilityhat a guess is often more fruitful than a

ndisputable affirmation, and that a drea

may let us deeper into the secret of natur

han a hundred concerted experiments.


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For, the problems to be solved ar

precisely those which the physiologist an

he naturalist omit to state. It is not s

pertinent to man to know all thndividuals of the animal kingdom, as it i

o know whence and whereto is thi

yrannizing unity in his constitution, whic

evermore separates and classifies thingsendeavoring to reduce the most diverse t

one form. When I behold a rich landscape

t is less to my purpose to recite correctl

he order and superposition of the strata

han to know why all thought of multitud

s lost in a tranquil sense of unity. I canno

greatly honor minuteness in details, song as there is no hint to explain th

relation between things and

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Nature - Ralph Waldo Emerson