of this in our own breast; I maintain merely that we cannot say in what form or in what manner our existence will be continued.”
If my conversation with Emerson did not lead to anything very satisfactory, it led nevertheless to my still more firm conviction of his nobility and love of truth. He is faithful to the law in his own breast, and speaks out the truth which he inwardly recognises. He does right. By this means he will prepare the way for a more true comprehension of religion and of life. For when once this keen glance, seeing into the innermost of everything once becomes aware of the concealed human form in the tree of life—like Napoleon's in the tree at St. Helena—then will he teach others to see it too, will point it out by such strong new and glorious words, that a fresh light will spring up before many, and people will believe because they see.
At the conclusion of our conversation I had the pleasure of giving Emerson “Geijer's History of Sweden,” translated into English, which he accepted in the most graceful manner. I have never seen a more beautiful smile than Emerson's; the eyes cast a light upon it. Mr. Downing's is the only smile which resembles it; it is less brilliant, but has a more romantic grace about it.
Later in the evening I heard Emerson deliver a public lecture on “The Spirit of the Times.” He praised the ideas of the Liberals as beautiful, but castigated with great severity the popular leaders and their want of nobility of character. The perversity and want of uprightness in party spirit prevented the upright from uniting with any party. Emerson advised them to wait for and look for the time when a man might work for the public without having to forego his faith and his character.
Emerson is much celebrated both here and in England as a lecturer. I do not, for my part, think him more remarkable as such than during a private conversation on
