tion with which that mad crowd listened to Emerson, who spoke admirably, though without notes or preparation. During the war, in which many of his friends were slain and his only son wounded, no man did better service than Emerson with voice, pen, and means. It was a terrible trial to him, the war keeping him, as he said, from sleep; and I do not think he ever quite recovered from the effects of it. Once, when I had just arrived in Boston from Washington, where I had conversed with President Lincoln, and found him waiting for Northern opinion to advance to a demand for the extinction of slavery, I found that Emerson was about to give a lecture there on the condition of the country. I asked him to come to my room at the hotel, and when we were alone I said to him, "The accident of my being born and brought up in the South enables me to give a practical suggestion. You remember how Thoreau used to catch bream with only his hand out of Concord river. He had found that this fish had the peculiarity of hastening to defend its spawn, and by placing his hand under the spawn pulled up the fish. Well, the spawn of the South is its slaves; we have only to put our hands on it, and these armies now resisting us will hasten back to hold on to its slaves. As long as we do not touch slavery, the negroes till the fields, and it is they who point the soldier at us as the soldier points his gun." Emerson proceeded at once to say this in his lecture, unnecessarily mentioning it as my suggestion, and added, "I hope that it is not fatal to this method that it is entirely moral and just." He also, I believe, urged the same plan at Washington, where his lecture was attended by the President and his cabinet. The President was much esteemed by Emerson, and I once heard him say that, in an earlier age, Lincoln's good stories would have earned him the fame of a Pilpay. Allusion has already been made in this volume to Emerson's "Boston Hymn," read by him on the New Year's Day which brought the President's proclamation of freedom to the slaves. On the eve of that day the negroes of Boston had assembled to keep "watchnight," and, as their preacher said, "to watch and see that the President kept his promise." In that humble assembly there was at midnight a symbolical hissing to indicate the last distress of the dying Python. In the morning the people assembled, and Emerson read his "Boston Hymn." How gently, with all calm enforcement, did his tones march to their climax: "Come East and West and North, By races, as snowflakes, And carry my purpose forth, Which neither halts nor shakes. “My will fulfilled shall be, For, in daylight as in dark, Thus did the President of the literary, respond to the President of the political Republic, whose Proclamation closed with the words "Upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice warranted by the constitution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind and the gracious favour of Almighty God." Python appeared to coil and struggle for a time yet, but to the eye of Emerson it lay already dead, and to some other eyes it was his own shining arrow, so softly feathered and sent in the beginning of the generation, which lay nearest its heart. When the war had ended, he gave one of his grandest orations in Boston, at the close of which he uttered the true American faith. "America means opportunity, freedom, power. The genius of this country has marked out her true policy: opportunity — doors wide open every port open. If I could, I would have free trade with all the world, without toll or customhouse. Let us invite every nation, every race, every skin; white man, black man, red man, yellow man. Let us offer hospitality, a fair field, and equal laws to all. The land is wide enough, the soil has food enough for all. Let us educate every soul." It was a sign "gracious as rainbows" that, in the centennial year of American Independence, Emerson delivered the oration before the Literary Societies of the University of Virginia. SOME XXVIII. EMERSON IN ENGLAND. OME brief account of Emerson's first visit to England, near fifty years ago, has been given in the earlier pages of this book. When Professor Charles Norton, to whom both Carlyle and Emerson intrusted the editing of their correspondence, has completed the task, for which none can be more fit, the world will see both men in a clearer light; and it will also be the best introduction to the history of Emerson's work, friendships, and experiences in England. Carlyle's preface to Emerson's first series of Essays (London, James Fraser, 1841) is one of his characteristic writings, but it shews that he had not understood the aim of Emerson. He quotes Paul Louis Courrier, "Ce qui me distingue de tous mes contemporains c'est que je n'ai pas la prétention d'être roi ;" and regards Emerson as one contemptuously withdrawn from his nation. Among the first to be stirred by the Essays was John Sterling, who dedicated his "Strafford," to Emerson: "Teacher of starry wisdom, high, serene, Receive the gift our common ground supplies; Red flowers, dark leaves, that ne'er on earth had been In 1845, when Edgar Quinet was lecturing at the College de France, he paid an eloquent tribute to the genius of Emerson. "What we announce in Europe," he said, "from the summit of a ruined past, he also announces in the germinating solitude of a world absolutely new." Although Emerson cared little for French philosophy, the coincidences between his thought and expression and those of Quinet are sometimes striking. On Matthew Arnold the Essays made a deep impression. Matthew Arnold wrote in the volume this sonnet: “O monstrous, dead, unprofitable world! That thou canst hear, and hearing, hold thy way. A voice oracular hath pealed to-day, To-day a hero's banner is unfurled. Hast thou no lip for welcome?' So I said. Man after man the world smiled and passed by, As though one spake of noise unto the dead: But the world was not so insensate as the sonnet supposes. The tidings spread swiftly around that a "voice oracular" had been heard in America, and it was loudly called for in England. It was slow in responding, but one of its disciples appeared. In the London " Morning Chronicle" of July 5, 1842, there appeared the following notice: "PUBLIC INVITATION. - An open meeting of the friends of human |