Chapters (42)
- Cover Page
- Title Page
- Foreword by Robert D. Richardson Jr.
- NATURE (1836)
- Introduction
- CHAPTER I
- CHAPTER II
- CHAPTER III
- CHAPTER IV
- CHAPTER V
- CHAPTER VI
- CHAPTER VII
- CHAPTER VIII
- EARLY ESSAYS AND LECTURES
- Pray Without Ceasing (1826)
- Ethics (1837)
- The American Scholar (1837)
- Cherokee Letter (1838)
- The Divinity School Address (1838)
- From ESSAYS, FIRST SERIES (1841)
- History
- Self-Reliance
- The Over-Soul
- Circles
- From ESSAYS, SECOND SERIES (1844)
- The Poet
- Experience
- Politics
- From REPRESENTATIVE MEN (1850)
- Uses of Great Men
- Montaigne; or, the Skeptic
- LATER ESSAYS AND LECTURES
- Emancipation in the British West Indies (1844)
- Woman (1855)
- Thoreau (1862)
- POEMS
- Concord Hymn
- Additional Reading
- Note on the Text
- Ask Your Bookseller for these Bantam Classics
- About the Author
- Copyright
Thus there is no sleep, no pause, no preservation, but all things renew, germinate and spring. Why should we import rags and relics into the new hour? Nature abhors the old, and old age seems the only disease; all others run into this one. We call it by many names,—fever, intemperance, insanity, stupidity and crime; they are all forms of old age; they are rest, conservatism, appropriation, inertia; not newness, not the way onward. We grizzle every day. I see no need of it. Whilst we converse with what is above us, we do not grow old, but grow young. Infancy, youth, receptive, aspiring, with religious eye looking upward, counts itself nothing and abandons itself to the instruction flowing from all sides. But the man and woman of seventy assume to know all, they have outlived their hope, they renounce aspiration, accept the actual for the necessary and talk down to the young. Let them then become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold truth; and their eyes are uplifted, their wrinkles smoothed, they are perfumed again with hope and power. This old age ought not to creep on a human mind. In nature every moment is new; the past is always swallowed and forgotten; the coming only is sacred. Nothing is secure but life, transition, the energizing spirit. No love can be bound by oath or covenant to secure it against a higher love. No truth so sublime but it may be trivial to-morrow in the light of new thoughts. People wish to be settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.
Life is a series of surprises. We do not guess to-day the mood, the pleasure, the power of to-morrow, when we are building up our being. Of lower states, of acts of routine and sense, we can tell somewhat; but the masterpieces of God, the total growths and universal movements of the soul, he hideth; they are incalculable. I can know that truth is divine and helpful; but how it shall help me I can have no guess, for so to be is the sole inlet of so to know. The new position of the advancing man has all the powers of the old, yet has them all new. It carries in its bosom all the energies of the past, yet is itself an exhalation of the morning. I cast away in this new moment all my once hoarded knowledge, as vacant and vain. Now for the first time seem I to know any thing rightly. The simplest words,—we do not know what they mean except when we love and aspire.