I tire of globes and races, too long the game is played; What without him is summer's pomp, or winter's frozen shade? 8. I travail in pain for him, my creatures travail and wait; His couriers come by squadrons, he comes not to the gate. Twice I have molded an image, and thrice outstretched my hand, Made one of day, and one of night, and one of the salt sea-sand. 9. One in a Judæan mänger, and one by Avon' stream, One over against the mouths of Nile, and one in Academe." 10. Yet whirl the glowing wheels once mōre, and mix the bowl again; Seethe, Fate! the ancient elements, heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace, and pain. Let war and trade and creeds and song blend, ripen race on race, The sunburnt world a man shall breed of all the zones, and countless days. No ray is dimmed, no atom worn, my oldest fōrce is good as new, RALPH WALDO EMERSON, a son of the Rev. William Emerson, was born in Boston, about the year 1803, took his degree of bachelor of arts at Harvard College in 1821, studied theology, and, in 1829, was ordained the colleague of the late Rev. Henry Ware, jr., over the second Unitarian church of his native city; but subsequently, becoming independent of the control of set regulations of religious worship, retired to Concord, where, in 1835, he purchased the house in which he has since resided, except while absent on two excursions in Europe, during the latter of which, in 1847, he delivered a course of lectures in London, and other parts of England. He has been a contributor to "The North American Review" and "The Christian Examiner," and was two years editor of "The Dial," established in Boston, by Mr. Ripley, in 1840. He published several orations and addresses in 1837-38-39-40, and, in 1841 the first series of his "Essays," in 1844 the second series of his "Essays," in 1846 a collection of his "Poems," in 1851 "Representative Men," in 1852, in connection with W. H. Channing and James Freeman Clarke, "Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli," and in 1856 "English Traits." Among the more recent of his publications are a volume of poems, "May-Day and Other Pieces," in 1867; and "Society and Solitude," in 1870. Mr. Emerson is an able lecturer, a most distinguished essayist, and an eminent poet. He is an original and independent thinker, and commands attention both by the novelty of his views and the graces and peculiarities of his style. 1 Avon (a' von), referring to Stratford-upon-Avon, the birthplace of Shakspeare. 2 Ac`a deme', referring to Socrates, who was wont to hold forth to the well-bred young men in the beautiful park, called Academy, near Athens. Plato, the most illustrious of the pupils of Socrates, established a school of philosophy in its groves, named also Academia-hence, the modern word academy. N V. 20. NATURE'S TEACHING. ATURE does not spread for man a soft couch to lull him to repose; nor does she set around that couch abundant supplies, which it requires only the stretching out of his hand to obtain. For the animal races she does so provide. She prepares food and clothing for them, with little care of theirs. She spreads their table, for which no cookery is needed; she weaves and fits their garments without loom or needle; and her trees and caves and rocks are their habitations. 2. Yět man is said to be her favorite, and so he is; but thus does she deal with her favorite: she turns him out, naked, cold and shivering upon the earth; with needs that admit of no compromise; with a delicate frame that can not lie upon the bare ground an hour, but must have immediate protection; with a hunger that can not procrastinate the needed supply, but must be fed to-day and every day; and now, why is all this? 3. I suppose, if man could have made of the earth a bed, and if an apple or a chestnut a day could have sufficed' him for food, he would have got his barrel of apples or his bushel of chestnuts, and lain down upon the earth and done nothingtill the stock was gone. 4. But nature will not permit this. I say, will not permit it. For hers is no voluntary system. She has taken a bond of man for the fulfilment of one of her primary objects his activity; because, if he were left to indolence, all were lost. That bond is as strong as her own ribbed rocks, and close pressing upon man as the very flesh in which it is folded and sealed. 5. So is this solid and insensible world filled with meaning to him; the blind and voicelèss ělemènts seem to look upon him and speak to him; and the dark clothing of flesh and sense which is wrapped around him, becomes a network of moral tissues; and ěvèry thing says, "Arouse thyself! up and be doing! for nature-the system of things, will not have thee here on any other terms." 6. But what, again, does nature demand of this activity? The answer is, discretion. Immediately and inevitably a principle of 1 Suffice (suf fīz'), to satisfy or content. intelligence is infused into this activity. Immediately the agent becomes a pupil. Nature all around says even to infancy—what all human speech says to it "take care!" It is, all over the world, the first phrase of the parent's teaching, the first of the child's learning-"take care!" 7. And this phrase but interprets what nature says to all her children. Not as an all-indulgent mother does she receive them to her lap, but with a certain matronly sobriety, ay, and "the graver countenance of love"-saying, "take care-smooth paths are not around thee, but stones and stubs, thorns and briers; soft elements alone do not embosom thee, but drenching rains will visit thee, and chilling dews, and winter's blast, and summer's heat; harmless things are not these around thee, but, see! here is fire that may burn, and water that may drown; here are unseen damps and secret poisons, the rough bark of trees and sharp points of contact. Thou must learn, or thou must suffer." 8. Ay, suffer! What human school has a discipline like nature's? In these schools we are apt to think that punishments are cruel and degrading. But nature has whips and stripes for the negligent. 9. Her discipline strikes deep; it stamps itself upon the human frame-and upon what a frame! All softness, all delicacy; not clothed with the mail of leviathan,' nor endowed with interior organs like those of the ostrich or the whale, and yet a frame strong with care, while weakest of all things without it. 10. What a wonderful organ, in this view, is the human stomach! the main source of energy to the system, strong enough to digěst iron and steel, working like some powerful machine, and yet, do you let it be overworked or otherwise injured, and it is the most delicate and susceptible of all things-trembling like an aspen leaf at ěvèry agitation, and sinking and fainting under a feather's weight of food or drink. What a system, in this view, is that of the nerves! insensible as leathern thongs in their health-trembling cords of agony in their disease! 11. Do you not see the wonder which nature and humanity thus present to us? Do you not see man as a frail and delicate child, cast into the bosom of universal teaching? Ay, that teaching and mentioned in other passages of Scripture. 1 Le vï' a than, a sea animal, described in the book of Job, ch. xli., comes out to him in tongues of flame, and it penetrates his hand in the little, seemingly uselèss thorn, and it assails his foot with stones of stumbling; and it flashes into his eyes with the light of day; and it broods over his path with the darkness of night; and it sweeps around his head with the wings of the tempèst; and it startles him to awe and fear with the crash of thunder. The universe is not mōre filled with light and air and solid matter, than it is filled and crowded with wisdom and instruction. Adapted from ORVILLE DEWEY. VI. 21. EARTH AND HER PRAISERS. HE Earth is old: TH Six thousand winters make her heart a-cold. She saith, "'Las me! God's word that I was 'good' From whence, when any sound comes, I am riven That gush ǎlong their side. 2. "I see, oh weary change! I see instead These thrones, and tombs, judicial wrong, and blood; Give praise in change for brightness! To hear earth's sons and daughters praising Earth." 3. Whereupon a child began, With spirit running up to man, As by angel's shining ladder, Sitting in the chestnut grove, Of smiling from his mouth, o'er brow 66 4. "O rare, rare Earth!" he saith, I have hunted squirrels three- When I see which way those two have run; 5. Next a lover, with a dream Of a word he dare not say— 2 "Earth, earth!" saith he, "If spirits, like thy roses, grew 1 Idlesse (id' les), idleness; sloth. 'Pěn' sive, thoughtful, sober, or sad; given to earnest or sad reflec tion or musing. |