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
But he must be related to us, and our life receive from him some promise of explanation. I cannot tell what I would know; but I have observed there are persons who, in their character and actions, answer questions which I have not skill to put. One man answers some question which none of his contemporaries put, and is isolated. The past and passing religions and philosophies answer some other question. Certain men affect us as rich possibilities, but helpless to themselves and to their times,—the sport, perhaps, of some instinct that rules in the air;—they do not speak to our want. But the great are near; we know them at sight. They satisfy expectation, and fall into place. What is good is effective, generative; makes for itself room, food, and allies. A sound apple produces seed,—a hybrid does not. Is a man in his place, he is constructive, fertile, magnetic, inundating armies with his purpose, which is thus executed. The river makes its own shores, and each legitimate idea makes its own channels and welcome,—harvests for food, institutions for expression, weapons to fight with, and disciples to explain it. The true artist has the planet for his pedestal; the adventurer, after years of strife, has nothing broader than his own shoes.
Our common discourse respects two kinds of use or service from superior men. Direct giving is agreeable to the early belief of men; direct giving of material or metaphysical aid, as of health, eternal youth, fine senses, arts of healing, magical power, and prophecy. The boy believes there is a teacher who can sell him wisdom. Churches believe in imputed merit. But, in strictness, we are not much cognizant of direct serving. Man is endogenous, and education is his unfolding. The aid we have from others is mechanical, compared with the discoveries of nature in us. What is thus learned is delightful in the doing, and the effect remains. Right ethics are central, and go from the soul outward. Gift is contrary to the law of the universe. Serving others is serving us. I must absolve me to myself. ‘Mind thy affair,’ says the spirit:—‘coxcomb, would you meddle with the skies, or with other people?’ Indirect service is left. Men have a pictorial or representative quality, and serve us in the intellect. Behmen and Swedenborg saw that things were representative. Men are also representative; first, of things, and secondly, of ideas.