Essays — Second Series
telescope for the objects on which it is pointed. But every other part
of knowledge is to be pushed to the same extravagance, ere the soul
attains her due sphericity. Do you see that kitten chasing so prettily
her own tail? If you could look with her eyes you might see her
surrounded with hundreds of figures performing complex dramas, with
tragic and comic issues, long conversations, many characters, many ups
and downs of fate,--and meantime it is only puss and her tail. How long
before our masquerade will end its noise of tambourines, laughter, and
shouting, and we shall find it was a solitary performance? A subject and
an object,--it takes so much to make the galvanic circuit complete, but
magnitude adds nothing. What imports it whether it is Kepler and the
sphere, Columbus and America, a reader and his book, or puss with her
tail?
It is true that all the muses and love and religion hate these
developments, and will find a way to punish the chemist who publishes in
the parlor the secrets of the laboratory. And we cannot say too little
of our constitutional necessity of seeing things under private aspects,
or saturated with our humors. And yet is the God the native of these
bleak rocks. That need makes in morals the capital virtue of self-trust.
We must hold hard to this poverty, however scandalous, and by more
vigorous self-recoveries, after the sallies of action, possess our axis
more firmly. The life of truth is cold and so far mournful; but it
is not the slave of tears, contritions and perturbations. It does not
attempt another's work, nor adopt another's facts. It is a main lesson
of wisdom to know your own from another's. I have learned that I cannot
dispose of other people's facts; but I possess such a key to my own as
persuades me, against all their denials, that they also have a key to
theirs. A sympathetic person is placed in the dilemma of a swimmer among
drowning men, who all catch at him, and if he give so much as a leg or a
finger they will drown him. They wish to be saved from the mischiefs of
their vices, but not from their vices. Charity would be wasted on this
poor waiting on the symptoms. A wise and hardy physician will say, Come
out of that, as the first condition of advice.
In this our talking America we are ruined by our good nature and
listening on all sides. This compliance takes away the power of being
greatly useful. A man should not be able to look other than directly
and forthright. A preoccupied attention is the only answer to the
importunate frivolity of other people; an attention, and to an aim which
makes their wants frivolous. This is a divine answer, and leaves no
appeal and no hard thoughts. In Flaxman's drawing of the Eumenides of
Aeschylus, Orestes supplicates Apollo, whilst the Furies sleep on
the threshold. The face of the god expresses a shade of regret and
compassion, but is calm with the conviction of the irreconcilableness
of the two spheres. He is born into other politics, into the eternal and
beautiful. The man at his feet asks for his interest in turmoils of the
earth, into which his nature cannot enter. And the Eumenides there
lying express pictorially this disparity. The god is surcharged with his
divine destiny.
Illusion, Temperament, Succession, Surface, Surprise, Reality,
Subjectiveness,--these are threads on the loom of time, these are the
lords of life. I dare not assume to give their order, but I name them as
I find them in my way. I know better than to claim any completeness for
my picture. I am a fragment, and this is a fragment of me. I can very
confidently announce one or another law, which throws itself into relief
and form, but I am too young yet by some ages to compile a code. I
gossip for my hour concerning the eternal politics. I have seen many
fair pictures not in vain. A wonderful time I have lived in. I am not
the novice I was fourteen, nor yet seven years ago. Let who will
ask Where is the fruit? I find a private fruit sufficient. This is
a fruit,--that I should not ask for a rash effect from meditations,
counsels and the hiving of truths. I should feel it pitiful to demand a
result on this town and county, an overt effect on the instant month and
year. The effect is deep and secular as the cause. It works on periods
in which mortal lifetime is lost. All I know is reception; I am and I
have: but I do not get, and when I have fancied I had gotten anything,
I found I did not. I worship with wonder the great Fortune. My reception
has been so large, that I am not annoyed by receiving this or that
superabundantly. I say to the Genius, if he will pardon the proverb,
In for a mill, in for a million. When I receive a new gift, I do not
macerate my body to make the account square, for if I should die I could
not make the account square. The benefit overran the merit the first
day, and has overrun the merit ever since. The merit itself, so-called,
I reckon part of the receiving.
Also that hankering after an overt or practical effect seems to me an
apostasy. In good earnest I am willing to spare this most unnecessary
deal of doing. Life wears to me a visionary face. Hardest roughest
action is visionary also. It is but a choice between soft and turbulent
dreams. People disparage knowing and the intellectual life, and urge
doing. I am very content with knowing, if only I could know. That is
an august entertainment, and would suffice me a great while. To know a
little would be worth the expense of this world. I hear always the law
of Adrastia, "that every soul which had acquired any truth, should be
safe from harm until another period."
I know that the world I converse with in the city and in the farms, is
not the world I think. I observe that difference, and shall observe it.
One day I shall know the value and law of this discrepance. But I have
not found that much was gained by manipular attempts to realize the
world of thought. Many eager persons successively make an experiment
in this way, and make themselves ridiculous. They acquire democratic
manners, they foam at the mouth, they hate and deny. Worse, I observe
that in the history of mankind there is never a solitary example of
success,--taking their own tests of success. I say this polemically, or
in reply to the inquiry, Why not realize your world? But far be from me
the despair which prejudges the law by a paltry empiricism;--since there
never was a right endeavor but it succeeded. Patience and patience, we
shall win at the last. We must be very suspicious of the deceptions of
the element of time. It takes a good deal of time to eat or to sleep,
or to earn a hundred dollars, and a very little time to entertain a hope
and an insight which becomes the light of our life. We dress our garden,
eat our dinners, discuss the household with our wives, and these things
make no impression, are forgotten next week; but, in the solitude to
which every man is always returning, he has a sanity and revelations
which in his passage into new worlds he will carry with him. Never mind
the ridicule, never mind the defeat; up again, old heart!--it seems to
say,--there is victory yet for all justice; and the true romance which
the world exists to realize will be the transformation of genius into
practical power.
*****
CHARACTER.
The sun set; but set not his hope:
Stars rose; his faith was earlier up:
Fixed on the enormous galaxy,
Deeper and older seemed his eye:
And matched his sufferance sublime
The taciturnity of time.
He spoke, and words more soft than rain
Brought the Age of Gold again:
His action won such reverence sweet,
As hid all measure of the feat.
Work of his hand
He nor commends nor grieves
Pleads for itself the fact;
As unrepenting Nature leaves
Her every act.
III. CHARACTER.
I HAVE read that those who listened to Lord Chatham felt that there was
something finer in the man than any thing which he said. It has been
complained of our brilliant English historian of the French Revolution
that when he has told all his facts about Mirabeau, they do not justify
his estimate of his genius. The Gracchi, Agis, Cleomenes, and others of
Plutarch's heroes, do not in the record of facts equal their own fame.
Sir Philip Sidney, the Earl of Essex, Sir Walter Raleigh, are men of
great figure and of few deeds. We cannot find the smallest part of the
personal weight of Washington in the narrative of his exploits. The
authority of the name of Schiller is too great for his books. This
inequality of the reputation to the works or the anecdotes is not
accounted for by saying that the reverberation is longer than the
thunder-clap, but somewhat resided in these men which begot an
expectation that outran all their performance. The largest part of their
power was latent. This is that which we call Character,--a reserved
force which acts directly by presence, and without means. It is
conceived of as a certain undemonstrable force, a Familiar or Genius,
by whose impulses the man is guided but whose counsels he cannot impart;
which is company for him, so that such men are often solitary, or
if they chance to be social, do not need society but can entertain
themselves very well alone. The purest literary talent appears at one
time great, at another time small, but character is of a stellar and
undiminishable greatness. What others effect by talent or by eloquence,
this man accomplishes by some magnetism. "Half his strength he put not
forth." His victories are by demonstration of superiority, and not by
crossing of bayonets. He conquers because his arrival alters the face of
affairs. "O Iole! how did you know that Hercules was a god?" "Because,"
answered Iole, "I was content the moment my eyes fell on him. When I
beheld Theseus, I desired that I might see him offer battle, or at least
guide his horses in the chariot-race; but Hercules did not wait for a
contest; he conquered whether he stood, or walked, or sat, or whatever
thing he did." Man, ordinarily a pendant to events, only half attached,
and that awkwardly, to the world he lives in, in these examples appears
to share the life of things, and to be an expression of the same laws
which control the tides and the sun, numbers and quantities.
But to use a more modest illustration and nearer home, I observe that in
our political elections, where this element, if it appears at all,
can only occur in its coarsest form, we sufficiently understand
its incomparable rate. The people know that they need in their
representative much more than talent, namely the power to make his
talent trusted. They cannot come at their ends by sending to Congress a
learned, acute, and fluent speaker, if he be not one who, before he was
appointed by the people to represent them, was appointed by Almighty God
to stand for a fact,--invincibly persuaded of that fact in himself,--so
that the most confident and the most violent persons learn that here is
resistance on which both impudence and terror are wasted, namely faith
in a fact. The men who carry their points do not need to inquire of
their constituents what they should say, but are themselves the country
which they represent; nowhere are its emotions or opinions so instant
and true as in them; nowhere so pure from a selfish infusion. The
constituency at home hearkens to their words, watches the color of
their cheek, and therein, as in a glass, dresses its own. Our public
assemblies are pretty good tests of manly force. Our frank countrymen of
the west and south have a taste for character, and like to know whether
the New Englander is a substantial man, or whether the hand can pass
through him.
The same motive force appears in trade. There are geniuses in trade,