HIS LIFE AND TIMES, 
 
 BY R. C. WATERSTON
 
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 tICSB LIBRARY
 
 With the Writers 
 
 best regards. 
 
 BOSTON, 71 CHESTER SQUARE, 
 1884.

 
 OF 
 
 GEORGE BARBELL EMERSON, LL.D. 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT C. WATERSTON. 
 
 PRESENTED AT THE MEETING 
 OF 
 
 THE MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 
 MAY 10, 1883. 
 
 2UEttf) a Supplement. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 JOHN WILSON AND SON. 
 
 1884.
 
 MEMOIR. 
 
 IN the town of Wells, Maine (then a part of Massachu- 
 setts), Sept. 12, 1797, George B. Emerson was born ; and in 
 March, 1881, at the house of his son-in-law, Hon. John 
 Lowell, at Chestnut Hill, Brookline, he died, at the advanced 
 age of eighty-four. His father was an able physician, a 
 graduate of Harvard, a man of uncommon ability, with schol- 
 arly tastes and acquirements. Beloved and respected, he 
 not only had a wide professional practice, but he made the 
 schools a special object of his care. In the choice and 
 appointment of teachers he was consulted, and as a visitor 
 of the district schools his face was familiar, while his counsel 
 and encouragement were always welcome. He had the right 
 word both for parents and pupils, and exerted a beneficent 
 influence wherever he went. Mr. Emerson's grandfather 
 was a clergyman in Hollis, New Hampshire, and he not only 
 was a very acceptable preacher, but he was widely known 
 through all the county of Hillsborough for the pre-eminent 
 skill with which he fitted young men for college. Thus 
 the rare gift of teaching seemed to have been transmitted 
 from generation to generation. As an inherited quality- 
 it had come down from father to son, not evidently wear- 
 ing itself out, but gaining, with time, fresh impulse and 
 inspiration. 
 
 Mr. Emerson's boyhood had nothing in it of special ex- 
 citement. He was contented and happy with the simplest
 
 method of life. Quiet in his manners, he was at the same 
 time deeply in earnest. He had the most beautiful balance 
 of character. There never appeared to be with him any great 
 effort in acquiring knowledge, and when acquired it seemed 
 to form a natural part of himself and had no tendency to be 
 forgotten. 
 
 Let us look at the school-room. The building was such as 
 is generally used for a common country school. It pretended 
 to nothing more. It had the advantage of the watchful care 
 of his father, Dr. Samuel Emerson, who, if the windows were 
 broken or clapboards torn away, would at once send and have 
 them repaired, so that there was not the disgrace of unreason- 
 able dilapidation. But in justice it must be said that the 
 teaching and discipline within the school always held the 
 place of supreme importance. Only in the winter months did 
 George attend school. In the summer he worked upon his 
 father's farm and in the garden. At first thought, this may 
 appear to have been a serious privation. Perhaps to many 
 young people it would have proved so ; but George always 
 accounted this arrangement a piece of great good fortune. It 
 gave him that out-of-door life, the benefit of which he felt 
 through all his after years. 
 
 He worked with constant diligence, sowing the early 
 seed, watching each stage of growth, and gathering the au- 
 tumnal harvest. Work on the farm he liked, and never grew 
 weary of it. Every implement used he became thoroughly 
 acquainted with. His own conviction was, that active life 
 under the open sky tended to quicken his powers of observa- 
 tion, and was the best possible experience for him to have 
 gone through. The most fragile plant he studied with un- 
 wearied care, and not a tree of the forest escaped his notice. 
 The oak, the beech, the maple, the pine, the spruce, the 
 hemlock, all won his attention, and revealed to him some 
 secret law of their being. 
 
 Preparatory to his presenting himself at Cambridge, he 
 attended for a time the Dummer Academy at Byfield, where 
 he devoted himself to Latin and Greek. Any additional 
 preparation for college was made at home, under the care of
 
 his father. In 1813 he entered Harvard, and commenced his 
 college life. Among his classmates were George Bancroft, 
 Caleb Gushing, S. J. May, S. E. Sewall, and Stephen Salis- 
 bury. At that time President Kirkland was at the head of 
 the college, Edward Everett was tutor in Latin, Professor 
 Farrar was head of the mathematical department, while Dr. 
 Hedge, Dr. Henry Ware, and George Ticknor held responsi- 
 ble positions. Such men could not but give life to the whole 
 university. 
 
 Two letters have been received from those who were prom- 
 inent in his class, one from the Hon. Stephen Salisbury, 
 and the other from George Bancroft, the historian. Mr. 
 Salisbury writes : 
 
 " My own rooms at Cambridge were at a distance from the college, 
 which prevented that frequent intercourse which we might otherwise 
 have enjoyed. 
 
 " We were therefore at that time not intimate, hut when we did 
 meet, it was always pleasantly. Our mature friendship sprang up in 
 the last quarter of his life, rebuking the common notion that the hap- 
 piness of love is the privilege of the young. ... I can remember, but 
 I cannot describe, the pleasure I had in Mr. Emerson's society and in 
 his correspondence. That the enjoyment was mutual is proved, not 
 only by his cordial welcome, but more tenderly and unequivocally by 
 the neatly kept file of my occasional and not frequent letters which his 
 daughter sent me after his decease. 
 
 " Such personal reminiscences as you ask will not be desired. You 
 know, and can learn, all the particulars of his life. You appreciate and 
 love his genial and wholesome character, and you will give us a memoir 
 in which the old and the young will find pleasure and instruction." 
 
 Mr. Bancroft says : 
 
 No. 1623 H STREET, WASHINGTON, D. C. 
 18th May, 1882. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, George B. Emerson, of my class in Harvard, was 
 so industrious, and so exact in the discharge of all his duties, that there 
 is no story to tell about him. He was very sweet and amiable ; always 
 cheerful, and very industrious ; so regular that he was distinguished 
 from others of his family name as Pater Emerson. 1 remember that
 
 at one time he gave great attention to mathematics, and at all times to 
 the study of Greek ; having done as much or more than any one of us, 
 in reading not only what was required, but a good deal more in the 
 historians, especially Herodotus. I remember nothing of him that 
 was not pure and ingenuous. He was one of our best scholars, and so 
 far as I know never had the slightest jar with any one member of the 
 class in the whole period of our course. I have tasked my memory 
 for incidents, but were I to write a much longer letter, I should only 
 have to repeat what I have already said, under different forms. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 GEO. BANCROFT. 
 To the Kev. R. C. WATERSTON, Boston. 
 
 These letters from his old classmates are proof of the re- 
 spect and affection in which he was held. Indeed, it may well 
 be said that the affectionate respect extended towards him 
 was universal. It was seen throughout the whole college life. 
 The president, professors, and students all united in this feel- 
 ing, and it evidently continued to the end of his career with- 
 out abatement. That which moulded him into such a noble 
 manhood, giving to him maturity of judgment, imparting an 
 elevated tone to every thought, was not the college text- 
 books, whether Latin or Greek ; it was the spirit which ani- 
 mated the whole body both of professors and students. Recall, 
 for a moment, Kirkland and Bowditch, Ticknor and Norton, 
 Hedge and Ware, Frisbie and Farrar, Gushing and Everett, 
 Salisbury and Bancroft. Can any one think of such a com- 
 pany of men, and not feel their quickening power? Stimu- 
 lated by companionship like this, the only real trouble was 
 that the mind found little opportunity for rest. Mr. Emerson 
 attempted to make four hours' sleep balance twenty hours 
 given to work. As the result of this overdoing and wrong- 
 doing, first the eyes gave out, and he became nearly blind ; 
 then the whole physical system broke down, and he was forced 
 to go home and put himself under his father's professional 
 care. He was reading Xenophon and Herodotus, Hesiod 
 and Pliny and Cicero ; and yet the time came when the over- 
 taxed eyes were obliged to cease working. Having read all 
 Homer except the last book of the Odyssey, worn out by
 
 over-exertion, he sank midway. He knew then, full well, 
 that he had been unfaithful to that sound sense which gener- 
 ally governed his actions. " My only consolation," he writes, 
 "in regard to this misfortune, was that it gave me time to 
 mature my acquaintance with my college friends. The most 
 important of the many advantages of a college education is 
 the opportunity of becoming well acquainted with persons of 
 one's own age, and of forming intimacies with the best and 
 most congenial." 
 
 While at Cambridge, he was appointed Tutor in Mathe- 
 matics and Natural Philosophy. Professor Farrar held, at 
 that time, the chief position in this department. " His lec- 
 tures," writes Mr. Emerson, " on Natural Philosophy and 
 Astronomy I have never known surpassed or equalled." 
 
 During the college vacations, Mr. Emerson taught school, 
 in accordance with the general custom. In the Sophomore 
 year he was not well enough to teach. In the Junior year 
 he took a school situated near the saw-mills at Saco, where he 
 was called to govern as rude and boisterous a set of 3 T oung 
 people as could well be found. He speaks of a flame which 
 one day burst from the windows of the old school-house, and 
 in half an hour there was nothing left but a handful of ashes. 
 In the Senior year he kept a school for ten or twelve weeks 
 at Bolton, where he found pupils wholly to his taste, who 
 made excellent progress and were worthy of all commenda- 
 tion. 
 
 Such was his early experience in school-teaching. He had 
 just graduated from Harvard when he received a letter from 
 President Kirkland, offering him the position of master in an 
 excellent private school recently established in Lancaster, 
 Massachusetts, of which Jared Sparks had been the first 
 teacher. The offer was accepted ; and after what he had gone 
 through in those district schools, scattered over the country, 
 which, during the winter vacations, had been under his care, 
 it was a new aspect of life to find himself in the beautiful vil- 
 lage of Lancaster, and to enter upon a school whose arrange- 
 ments were well ordered. The academy had been established 
 through the generous efforts of Richard J. Cleveland and
 
 8 
 
 the friends who united with him. At that time the number 
 of pupils was limited to twenty-five, and the salary was five 
 hundred dollars a year. He became so popular a teacher, and 
 had so remarkable a gift in the management of boys, that 
 applications became numerous, and the attendance increased 
 to forty-two members. Here he continued for two years ; 
 but at length, overtaxed by constant exertion, his health 
 grew feeble, and he considered it wisest to accept an invita- 
 tion he had received to become tutor in the mathematical 
 department of Harvard College. 
 
 His next experience as an instructor was as head master of 
 the English Classical School, or, as it is now called, the Eng- 
 lish High School. The establishment of such a school had 
 long been felt as a necessity. Judge Shaw and others asso- 
 ciated with him resolved upon a plan by which a school 
 should be founded, combining many advantages and priv- 
 ileges, which would be the crowning achievement of our 
 whole public school system. In this work they had the 
 approbation and assistance of Josiah Quincy and other promi- 
 nent men, who determined to leave nothing undone to effect 
 this purpose. 
 
 The school, with its past history of fifty years, may well be 
 left to speak for itself. The whole community bears testi- 
 mony to its worth. The design of its founders has been most 
 successfully carried out. Mr. Emerson, the first teacher, im- 
 parted the right impulse. He appealed wisely and success- 
 fully to high motives. He addressed the most generous 
 sentiments. He thought, at every step, as much of character 
 as of intellect. " Strive not,'' he said to his pupils, " to sur- 
 pass each other, strive rather to surpass yourselves." From 
 that- day the work has been carried onward. Mr. Emerson 
 left his impress upon the school. For two years he here 
 taught, when lie was urged with reiterated importunity to 
 open a private school in the city for young ladies; and in 
 April, 1823, this school, with thirty-two pupils, was duly 
 opened, a number which never grew less. The school was 
 acknowledged by all to be unusually attractive. It had in 
 it nothing superficial. It rested neither upon formalism nor
 
 routine. Its aim was thought and discipline ; while, in im- 
 parting knowledge, it sought to lay also the foundations of 
 a character which would result in a worthy life here and a 
 blessed immortality hereafter. In his efforts as a teacher 
 he aimed, under all circumstances, to develop that which was 
 noblest, truest, and best. 
 
 But it was not simply as a teacher, or in the school-room, 
 that -Mr. Emerson exerted his power. Wherever a company 
 of intelligent men were desirous to disseminate truth, he was 
 ready to bear his part, whether they moved together as a body, 
 or acted as individuals. Difficulties never intimidated him. 
 Many of the ablest societies in our community owe their use- 
 fulness, if not even their existence, to him. In the works of 
 nature he everywhere beheld the proofs of a Supreme Intelli- 
 gence, and was grateful if he could in any degree be to others 
 the interpreter of the divine thought. He felt that the All- 
 creative Mind was forever diffusing light, and that the finite 
 mind, moved by a kindred spirit, may, according to its ability, 
 unite in the same work. 
 
 One of the societies he was instrumental in forming was 
 the Boston Mechanics' Institution, the object of which was 
 mutual instruction in the sciences, as connected with the 
 mechanic arts. This was in 1827. Dr. Bovvditch was its first 
 President. Judge Story was one of the early lecturers. 
 Daniel Webster delivered an introductory address, after which 
 George B. Emerson followed with a course of six lectures. 
 Webster impressively says : 
 
 " God seems to have proposed his material universe as a standing, 
 perpetual study to his intelligent creatures ; where, ever learning, they 
 can yet never learn all; and if that material universe shall last till man 
 shall have discovered all that is now unknown, but which, by the pro- 
 gressive improvement of his faculties, he is capable of knowing, it will 
 remain through a duration beyond human measurement, and beyond 
 human comprehension." 
 
 The lectures that followed were an able exposition of the 
 same great thought. 
 
 2
 
 10 
 
 Through the efforts of Mr. Emerson, in 1830, an association 
 of teachers and friends of education was formed, to take into 
 consideration the condition of the schools, and to consult 
 upon the best means adapted to promote their improvement. 
 This became known as the American Institute of Instruction. 
 It was voted that a memorial should be prepared by him and 
 placed in the hands of the Governor, with the request that 
 it should be brought before the Legislature. In compliance 
 with this vote an elaborate paper was prepared, so clear in 
 its statements, so convincing in its appeals, so strong in its 
 arguments, that both the Senate and the House of Representa- 
 tives put aside for the time all other business, and determined 
 to go thoroughly into the subject. To make this work more 
 effectual, a Board of Education was formed, and the Presi- 
 dent of the Senate, Horace Mann, who was acknowledged 
 to be the ablest member in either branch of the Legislature, 
 resigned his position in the Senate, and was unanimously 
 chosen Secretary of the Board, that he might devote his whole 
 attention to the educational interests of the State. One of 
 the results was the establishment of normal schools, in which 
 Mr. Emerson felt a deep interest, always being present when 
 he could render service, if other duties rendered it possible. 
 These schools have now become intimately associated with 
 Lexington, Newton, and Bridgewater, and an efficient body 
 of teachers has received therein such a thorough education 
 as has fitted them in the best possible manner for their 
 important work. 
 
 It is interesting to observe how the threads in the web of 
 life are, from time to time, taken up. Mr. Emerson's old 
 friend, Edward Everett, who at college was tutor in Latin, 
 and with whom he enjoyed personal friendship ; now, as Gov- 
 ernor of the Commonwealth, received his memorial, entering 
 heartily into his plans, considering how they should best be 
 presented to the Legislature, and how they could be made 
 productive of the most desirable results. 
 
 About three years after leaving Cambridge, Mr. Emerson 
 took a pedestrian journey to the White Mountains in company 
 with several of his old college companions. His descriptions
 
 11 
 
 of this excursion are graphic. He climbed to the topmost 
 summit of the mountains, where, as yet, no place of shelter 
 had been erected, and where, as he writes, " all was savage 
 and wild and desolate, as it was left by the hand of its Cre- 
 ator." 
 
 In 1874 he gave an address before the Society of Natural 
 History, on Louis Agassiz, which was a worthy tribute to 
 that remarkable man, whom he had known intimately for 
 twenty-seven years, and for whom he cherished a strong 
 affection. The day following, he was requested by Mr. Bouv^, 
 the President of the Society, to furnish a copy of the remarks 
 for the press. Fearing that what he had said was not worthy 
 the subject, and that he had not done justice to his distin- 
 guished friend, he begged to be excused from printing his 
 remarks. In the following letter he frankly expressed his 
 views, showing the modest estimate with which he looked 
 upon his own work. 
 
 No. 3 PEMBERTON SQUARE, Jan. 7, 1874. 
 Rev. R. C. WATERSTOX. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, I listened with great interest and satisfac- 
 tion to every thing that was said last evening by our President, Mr. 
 Bouve, and especially by you, to all except what was said by my- 
 self. That seemed very poor. Now, will you not divest yourself of 
 the kind partiality which I know you have always felt towards me, so 
 far as to say frankly whether what I read would not better be for- 
 gotten than printed ? 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 GEORGE B. EMERSON. 
 
 Why should every poor thing which is honestly said, be printed ? 
 
 Speaking of Agassiz, he says : 
 
 " I found him the wisest, the most thoroughly well informed and 
 communicative, the most warm-hearted, and the most modest man of 
 science with whom, personally or by his works, I had ever become 
 acquainted. The strong impression he made on me was made on 
 almost all who ever listened to or even met him. It is not surprising 
 that the news of the death of Agassiz caused a throb of anguish in
 
 12 
 
 millions of hearts. Such a death is a loss to mankind. We shall see 
 his benignant face and hear his winning voice no more ; but we have 
 before us his example and his works. Let us dwell, for a few moments, 
 on some features in his life and character as an inspiration and a guide. 
 What a change has taken place in the whole civilized world, and espe- 
 cially in this country, in men's estimation of the value and interest of 
 natural history and the great work of teaching ! To whom is that change 
 more due than to Agassi z ? 
 
 " He was endowed by nature with extraordinary gifts. His fasci- 
 nating eye, his genial smile, his kindliness and ready sympathy, his 
 generous earnestness, his simplicity and absence of pretension, his 
 transparent sincerity, these account for his natural eloquence and 
 persuasiveness of speech, his influence as a man, and his attraction 
 and power as a teacher. 
 
 " Agassiz's universality of study and thought suggests a precious 
 lesson. It is never safe to give one's self entirely to one study or to 
 one course of thought. The full power of the mind cannot be so 
 developed. Nature is infinite; and a small part of one kingdom cannot 
 be understood, however carefully studied, without some knowledge of 
 the rest. Neither must a man allow himself to be a mere naturalist. 
 Every man ought to seek to form for himself, for his own happiness 
 and enjoyment, the highest character for intelligence, and for just and 
 generous feeling, of which he is capable. He is not a mere student of 
 a department of nature. He is a man ; he must make himself a wise, 
 generous, and well-informed man, able to sympathize with all that is 
 most beautiful in nature and art, and best in society. It would be a 
 poor, dull world if all men of talent were to educate themselves to be 
 mere artisaus, mere politicians, or mere naturalists. 
 
 ' Agassiz took a large, comprehensive view of the whole field of 
 natural history. His thorough education and intimate acquaintance 
 with the works of the highest men in several walks made it possible 
 for him to do it, and he then fixed on certain departments, and for the 
 time he gave himself entirely to one." 
 
 What Mr. Emerson says of Agassiz as a teacher is equally 
 true of himself. 
 
 " His example has been inestimable: showing the importance of the 
 best and largest possible preparation ; teaching by things really exist- 
 ing and not by books ; opening the eye to the richness and beauty of 
 nature; showing that there is no spot, from the barren sea-beach to the
 
 13 
 
 top of the mountain, which does not present objects attractive to the 
 youngest beginner, and worthy of and rewarding the careful considera- 
 tion of the highest intellect." 
 
 At different periods Mr. Emerson gave lectures upon topics 
 connected with education. These were published and widely 
 circulated. He discoursed in 1831, before the American 
 Institute, upon Female Education ; and in 1842 he took 
 for his subject Moral Education. These addresses are 
 full of profound thought and the most elevated sentiment. 
 In their style they are transparent as crystal ; and to this 
 day they can hardly be said to have been outgrown in the 
 many changes of over half a century. In 1831 he published, 
 in company with the Hon. William Sullivan, a volume entitled 
 "The Political Class-Book," giving a statement of the origin, 
 nature, and use of political power. For this Mr. Emerson 
 prepared a valuable paper upon Studies for Practical Men. 
 In 1869, at the request of the Massachusetts Historical 
 Society, he gave a lecture on Education in Massachusetts, 
 its Legislation and History, full of important suggestion 
 and valuable facts. In 1878 he republished a series of 
 papers, which had been first printed in the " Journal of 
 Education," entitled "Reminiscences of an Old Teacher." 
 These gave, in an interesting manner, many facts connected 
 with his life. 
 
 In 1830 a number of gentlemen interested in scientific 
 pursuits formed the Natural History Society. This has since 
 become one of the most useful and popular institutions in our 
 community. The early meetings were held at the office of 
 Dr. Walter Channing, Theophilus Parsons acting as Secre- 
 tary. Dr. Benjamin D. Greene was the first President, while 
 Dr. Hayward, Dr. Ware, Dr. Greenwood, Dr. Jackson, and 
 Dr. Augustus A. Gould were among the efficient members. 
 In 1837 Mr. George B. Emerson was elected President, which 
 office he held for six years. While the Society was under 
 his charge, it was concluded that a botanical and zoological 
 survey should be made of the whole State, to supplement the 
 geological survey by Professor Hitchcock, which had been
 
 14 
 
 authorized by the Legislature the .year previous. The shells, 
 insects, fishes, reptiles, and birds, together with the plants 
 and trees of the Commonwealth, were to be fully investigated. 
 Edward Everett, the Governor at that time, appointed Mr. 
 Emerson Chairman of the Commission, making him responsible 
 for the various departments. Among the gentlemen to whom 
 the different subjects were referred were Dr. Harris, Dr. Au- 
 gustus Gould, Dr. Storer, Rev. W. B. O. Peabody, of Spring- 
 field, and Professor Chester Dewey, of the Berkshire Medical 
 Institute, all able men and in every way competent for the 
 important work ; while their elaborate reports were not only 
 considered valuable at the time when they were made, but 
 are held to this day as authority upon the subjects of which 
 they treat. 
 
 These surveys, made through the suggestion of the Natural 
 History Society, and under the auspices of the Legislature, 
 were of practical value in promoting the material interests of 
 the State, and they gave a fresh impulse through the com- 
 munity to the study of natural science. The changes which 
 have taken place in the scientific world since the formation 
 of the Natural History Society have been very remarka- 
 ble. Tastes which were confined to a few, now extensively 
 prevail, and the various fields open for investigation have 
 been both widened and enriched by the knowledge which 
 has been acquired. Geology, almost within the memory of 
 living persons, could hardly be called a science, now it 
 rivals astronomy in the grandeur of its facts ; while astron- 
 omy, opening into infinitude, sees all space kindling with 
 innumerable stars, and even the dim-floating nebula, which 
 to the unaided eye appears but a luminous mist, resolves 
 itself into planets and satellites and revolving systems of 
 worlds. Chemistry has also made extraordinary progress, 
 and laid society everywhere under obligation for what it 
 has achieved ; while botany, that fascinating study, which 
 even now numbers the species of plants by hundreds of 
 thousands, is constantly enlarging its boundaries, exciting 
 the mind to fresh wonder by the wayside and in the for- 
 est, along the borders of brooks and rivers, and on the
 
 15 
 
 mountain-tops where the delicate alpine plants delight to 
 find a home. 
 
 Mr. Emerson, with his broad sympathy, could not pass by 
 any of the sciences with indifference. His heart was large 
 enough to embrace them all. They each had their peculiar 
 interests. To his mind the kingdoms of nature blended the 
 one with the other ; and the more largely his knowledge was 
 extended, the greater was the satisfaction gained. Thus, as 
 he watched at night the brilliant constellations in the over- 
 arching sky, he recalled in thought his astronomical studies 
 at Cambridge, and declared that nothing gave him so much 
 real pleasure ; and that he never looked up into the heavens 
 without experiencing a joy which no other object afforded. 
 Still, life is too short, and the faculties of man too limited, 
 to enable any one to grasp the whole domain of nature or 
 to master completely the entire realm of knowledge. Cir- 
 cumstances have their inevitable influence, and as a general 
 rule some one department of study will gain a preference. 
 Hence, from various causes, botanical researches occupied 
 much of Mr. Emerson's time and thought. The trees, shrubs, 
 plants, and flowers of New England held a prominent place 
 in his mind. At one period of his life the professorship of 
 Natural History and the direction of the Botanical Garden 
 at Cambridge, in connection with Harvard University, were 
 offered to him, showing how fully his tastes were understood 
 and his acquirements recognized. 
 
 Though he declined this professorship, the love of nature 
 tenaciously clung to him. His thoughts went back to the old 
 homestead, to the time when he worked in his father's 
 garden and on the farm. Trees and flowers were the study 
 of his childhood, and they continued to be his delight through 
 advancing years. " Cherish," said Schiller, " the dreams of 
 thy youth." It was just those dreams which Mr. Emerson 
 did cherish. His sincerest pleasure was in direct inter- 
 course with nature. The fields and the forests had ever 
 for him an inexhaustible beauty ; but such was his natural 
 taste for scientific exactness, that he was constantly busy in 
 the pursuit of facts, and indefatigable in tracing every step
 
 16 
 
 in the whole chain of evidence in his original investigations. 
 Cherishing this spirit, the universe to him was never dis- 
 jointed and purposeless. On the contrary, he found com- 
 pleteness and harmony everywhere. The external world, as 
 he looked upon it, appeared like an illuminated missal. Often 
 he seemed to be reading as in a living epistle messages 
 from God. As he traced the law of development through seed 
 and bud and plant, he was brought face to face with that 
 Divine Intelligence which is alike the creative spring and 
 living soul of the universe. Such, indeed, were the dreams 
 of his youth, dreams to which he had been ceaselessly true, 
 and which he devoutly cherished in the maturity of age. 
 And now that he has departed, how beautiful is the thought 
 that his memory will be ever associated with the loveliest 
 objects in nature ! 
 
 Familiar as Mr. Emerson was with both the agricultural 
 and botanical products of New England, he could not be 
 satisfied with any thing which might even appear as super- 
 ficial. He therefore devoted ten and twelve weeks through 
 nine successive summers to explorations over the whole 
 Commonwealth of Massachusetts, from the hills of Berk- 
 shire to Martha's Vineyard, and from the banks of the 
 Merrimac to the shores of Narragansett Bay, while he pene- 
 trated through all the adjoining States and left nothing 
 undone which might add to the value of his investigations. 
 The full report, published by order of the Legislature, in 
 1846, was widely welcomed, and after the lapse of a quarter 
 of a century it still retains its popularity ; while the recog- 
 nition of its literary merit and its substantial worth will cause 
 it to be handed down from one generation to another. And 
 this may be true even though other able reports should be 
 written to meet progressive requirements. 
 
 One of the last labors of Mr. Emerson's life was carefully 
 to revise the whole work, sparing no expense to have its 
 information complete down to that time, and its illustrations 
 such as should reflect honor upon the country. These vol- 
 umes, for exactness of knowledge, thoroughness of detail, 
 perfection of typographical finish, artistic skill and con-
 
 17 
 
 summate genius in the illustrative drawings, with a perfect 
 adaptation to the purpose for which the book was prepared, 
 render the whole work a fitting monument to the memory of 
 the writer. 
 
 We remember well an incident that occurred at the time of 
 Mr. Emerson's researches. The trees of New England was 
 the subject of conversation; a. theme which with him never 
 became exhausted. He called attention to Spenser's "Faerie 
 Queene," and then turned the conversation upon Henry 
 Hallam, whose truthfulness in matters of criticism was gener- 
 ally beyond question. He now invited our thought to Spenser 
 as referred to by Hallam in his " Introduction to the Litera- 
 ture of Europe in the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, and Seventeenth 
 Centuries," and cited the following words by Hallam : 
 " Spenser seems to have been sometimes deficient in one 
 attribute of a great poet, the continual reference to the 
 truth of nature. This objection is true of the stanza enumer- 
 ating as many kinds of trees as the poet could call to mind 
 in the description of a forest." Hallam then quotes the 
 entire stanza, beginning, 
 
 " The sailing pine, the cedar proud and tall, 
 The vine-prop elm, the poplar never dry." 
 
 " Every one knows," he says, " that a natural forest never 
 contains such a variety of species ; and never could such a 
 medley as Spenser has brought together from all soils and 
 climates long exist, even if planted by the hands of man." 
 
 Mr. Emerson was familiar with a natural forest within a 
 few miles of Boston, where every tree named by Spenser 
 stands both firm and in good condition. In Europe all these 
 trees might not be found in near companionship ; but in New 
 England they illustrate the poet and verify his truth. If 
 Henry Hallam had been here, it might have impressed him 
 strangely, and his superfluous comment on Spenser could 
 have been spared. 
 
 Mr. Thomas T. Bouve", President of the Society of Natural 
 History, in paying a just tribute to Mr. Emerson, dwells 
 upon his services rendered to the State, and among these, 
 
 3
 
 18 
 
 speaks of the exceeding value of his botanical labors. He 
 writes : 
 
 " The Report is not only admirable in its scientific features, but 
 is most charming from a literary point of view. It takes one out with 
 the writer into the fields and woods, and makes the reader at once 
 the interested student and the personal friend, so to speak, of the tree 
 or shrub which the writer may be describing at the time." 
 
 Mr. Emerson's remarks upon our forests, their uses, and 
 the importance of their preservation, are of peculiar interest 
 and value, especially at this time, when often, through culpa- 
 ble neglect and carelessness, thousands of acres are swept 
 away by fires, covering with desolation vast regions of coun- 
 try. Wholly aside from the attractive beauty of our forests, 
 they have an immense effect upon soil and climate and atmos- 
 phere. Their influence upon the electric forces, and the 
 amount of rain-falls, affecting seriousl}' brooks and rivers, is 
 far beyond the general estimation. All that Mr. Emerson says 
 under this head is of incalculable importance, and fortunate 
 will it be for the country if his words of warning are heeded. 
 
 In the spacious building of the Society of Natural History 
 one of the leading attractions is the Botanical Department, 
 containing over fifty thousand specimens. Mr. Emerson 
 contributed to this collection not only valuable botanical 
 works, but a complete set of the illustrations from the last 
 edition of his work. These were selected from the best 
 impressions, and appropriately framed. In tins hall and 
 gallery Mr. Edward T. Bouve has arranged several hundred 
 admirable specimens of the wood, the leaves, the flowers, 
 and the fruits of New England. Nothing can surpass the 
 skill and taste manifested throughout the whole arrangement. 
 The fibres and tissues and whole structure may here be seen. 
 Transverse sections of each tree are given. Here the methods 
 of growth may be traced and individual peculiarities exam- 
 ined, and each student may pursue his investigations to the 
 greatest possible advantage. The delight which Mr. Emer- 
 son's extended Report awakened, led, as one of its results, 
 to the careful gathering of these specimens, and to tbeir
 
 19 
 
 exquisite preparation and careful scientific arrangement. The 
 sections of wood are so artistically cut and polished, that the 
 internal structure becomes, as it were, transparent, through 
 this lifelike presentation. This collection, embracing even 
 now nearly every plant and tree of New England, in the 
 order in which Mr. Emerson describes them, is in itself one 
 of the most beautiful tributes any book could receive. The 
 following letters from the father and son will add whatever 
 further information may be needed ; while they also prove 
 the deep gratification thus imparted to Mr. Emerson, and the 
 heartiness of his thanks for what had been done. 
 
 BOSTON, Jan. 28, 1882. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. WATERSTON, Father tells me that you desire to 
 know the connection which Mr. George B. Emerson had with the col- 
 lection, at the rooms of the Society of Natural History, of the speci- 
 mens representing the woody plants of New England. In order to 
 give you a just idea of the matter, I shall have to go back some time, 
 and say that a number of years ago father suggested to me the collec- 
 tion, and preparation for a cabinet, of the woods of the Massachusetts 
 trees and shrubs. This suggestion I at once commenced to act upon ; 
 and, taking Mr. Emerson's most delightful Report for a text-book, 
 I soon found myself deeply interested in making a full collection, not 
 only of the woods of different trees, but of every thing necessary to 
 the foundation of a complete herbarium ; that is, of course, the leaves, 
 flowers, and fruit of the various species. 
 
 I began to do this for myself, but father soon spoke of something 
 that he wished might be done for the Society, in a way that was, I 
 think, novel in this country ; that is, the arrangement of an herbarium 
 to comprise the woody plants of New England, so that they might be 
 seen and studied by visitors to the Museum, in exhibition cases like 
 the other collections. 
 
 In accordance with his desire I immediately began work upon such 
 a collection in connection with the preparation of the woods themselves, 
 and have for the past few years been engaged, as time allowed, in 
 gathering through the summer, and arranging and mounting under 
 glass in winter, such specimens as I have been able to obtain. 
 
 Father early told Mr. Emerson of what had been done, informing 
 him of my strong desire to illustrate, so to speak, his " Report on the 
 Trees and Shrubs," which I have always looked upon as one of the
 
 20 
 
 most charmiug of books ; and Mr. Emerson was very much gratified, 
 both that the collection was being made, and that it had reference to 
 his own work so nearly. He spoke to me with great warmth on the 
 subject whenever it was my good fortune to meet him, and testified in 
 another way his interest by sending to the Society, to be placed with 
 this collection, a set of the superb illustrations to his new edition of 
 the "Trees and Shrubs." 
 
 It was his earnest desire that I should be able to finish the collec- 
 tion while he was yet living, so that he could see it done ; but, alas! it 
 was not possible. My time is closely occupied, and I have been lat- 
 terly less able to give attention to this work than it was in my power 
 to do some years since. Besides this, the specimens necessary to the 
 completion of the collection are rare ones, many of them Alpine species 
 not easily obtainable. I am unwilling to put specimens on exhibition 
 unless I have collected and studied them out myself, thereby feeling 
 secure of there being no mistake as to identity. 
 
 Something, however, is being done every year, and I hope that the 
 collection may be completed within a reasonable time. 
 
 So far as this work at the Society may be deemed of value the 
 credit belongs largely, if indirectly, to Mr. Emerson, through the 
 inspiration derived from his book ; and to my father is due the fact of 
 there being such a collection at the Museum, both through his desire 
 expressed to me at first, and through the continual incitement of that 
 interest, that aid, and that companionship in rambles after specimens 
 and in investigations, which has been and is more delightful to me 
 than I am able to express. 
 
 With great respect and very great regard, 
 Yours truly, 
 
 EDWARD T. BOUVE. 
 
 BOSTON, Feb. 3, 1882. 
 
 MY DEAR MR. WATERSTON, I do not know that I can add any 
 thing to what has been expressed in the accompanying letter, which will 
 be of service to you, beyond stating that our dear departed friend 
 manifested to me very strongly his delight in knowing of the work 
 upon which my son was engaged. I had the pleasure of first taking 
 him to the room where the collection was placed on exhibition, and of 
 stating to him that though it was intended to embrace all New Eng- 
 land species, yet my son and myself had been led to its formation by 
 the desire to have his grand work on the " Trees and Shrubs of 
 Massachusetts" illustrated by natural specimens, so that students of 
 that work would be aided thereby.
 
 21 
 
 After hearing my remarks, and quietly examining the collection, as 
 we were descending the stairs leading to the main hall he suddenly 
 stopped, and turning to me very warmly and with much emotion, said, 
 " Why, I never had so great a compliment paid me." I think I quote 
 his very words. That he felt strongly all he expressed, I am sure; and 
 it is a great pleasure to me to know that the work of my son contrib- 
 uted so materially to his happiness even for a brief period. 
 
 That he continued to appreciate what was doing and had been done, 
 was shown, I think, by his inviting me to come to his house and desig- 
 nate what botanical works from his library would be serviceable to the 
 Society, and by the subsequent presentation of the same. 
 
 The donation was of great value. 
 
 If what my son or myself has expressed is found of use to you iu 
 the memorial upon which you are engaged, we shall both be delighted. 
 
 And now, my dear sir, with assurances of great respect and esteem, 
 I sign myself, as ever, 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 THOMAS T. BOUVE. 
 
 In a letter from Mr. Horace W. S. Cleveland,* of 
 is the following statement respecting Mr. Emerson, a de- 
 scription which brings him very vividly before us, and shows 
 how strong was the personal attachment which grew up 
 between himself and the friends he most valued. 
 
 " Mr. Emerson's friendship with my parents began in Lancaster, 
 where a school had been established in which my father was greatly 
 interested. Having been requested to select a teacher, he applied to 
 his friend President Kirkland, of Harvard University, who recom- 
 mended Mr. George B. Emerson. At his home in Boston, I was 
 always sure of a cordial welcome ; and when at a distance, he never 
 failed to keep up an occasional correspondence, manifesting always a 
 warm interest in my affairs, and ready at all times to give me the 
 
 * Mr. Horace W. S. Cleveland was the son of Captain Richard J. Cleveland, 
 whose energy of character was made known by his interesting "Narrative of 
 Voyages and Commercial Enterprises," published many years ago. Mr. Horace 
 W. S. Cleveland is widely known as Director in the Adornment of Public 
 Grounds in Chicago and other cities. He is the author of a treatise on Forest 
 Culture, and has written ably and earnestly on the preservation of our fast- 
 disappearing forests. Other publications on kindred subjects he has given to 
 the public, of great interest and importance.
 
 22 
 
 aid of friendly counsel, which his wisdom and experience rendered 
 most valuable. 
 
 " One of my earliest works at that period was designing a plan for 
 a tract of land belonging to him in Winthrop, Massachusetts. I well 
 remember my keen sense of pleasure at his expression of satisfaction 
 with the result. 
 
 " As I grew up, Mr. Emerson's kindness was paternal, especially 
 during the frequent absence of my parents. In after years, when I had 
 a farm near Burlington, New Jersey, he paid us a delightful visit. 
 Most heartily he entered into all my plans and theories of horticulture, 
 and was specially interested in examining the trees in that section of 
 the country. Several very fine tulip-trees excited his admiration, as 
 did also the liquid-amber tree, which grows there in great perfection. 
 There was a magnificent hemlock on my farm, seventy feet in height 
 and a dense mass of evergreen foliage. Mr. Emerson visited that tree 
 daily, examining it on all sides, declaring it to be the finest specimen 
 of hemlock he had ever seen, and affirming that it was worth a 
 journey from Massachusetts to visit it. ... 
 
 " During the years that followed, his friendly interest continued 
 undiminished ; and after my removal to the West, and especially while 
 I was engaged on the construction of the South Park, at Chicago, he 
 entered into the spirit of the objects I was trying to achieve, as if 
 they had been his own conceptions. 
 
 " He twice visited me during that period, and the last time under 
 circumstances of peculiar interest. He was within a few months of 
 eighty years of age. He spent several hours inspecting what had 
 been done and in discussing my future plans. It was a rare oppor- 
 tunity to converse with one who was familiar enough with forestry to 
 grasp the conception of future results. He entered into my ideas of 
 possibilities where every thing had to be created out of a nearly level 
 prairie. . . . 
 
 " A new bond of friendship seemed to exist between us in the sym- 
 pathy of our tastes for natural beauty, and the study of the laws of 
 growth. His letters to me were full of suggestive matter, evincing 
 the closeness of his observation and the justice of his conclusions ; but 
 all those letters, together with a beautifully bound copy which he sent 
 me of his 'Trees and Shrubs of Massachusetts,' were among the 
 treasures which I lost in the Chicago fire. . . . 
 
 " Devoting myself, as I have done, to the profession of landscape 
 gardening, Mr. Emerson's interest in my work was throughout of 
 great aid and encouragement. "When we finally parted, I took
 
 23 
 
 my leave of him with the conviction that it was my last farewell 
 on earth, but grateful for the benediction of one so well prepared for 
 heaven. . . . 
 
 " Iii regard to Mr. Emerson's work on the ' Trees and Shrubs of 
 Massachusetts,' I have no doubt that it has exerted a wide-spread 
 influence. Judging of its effect upon myself, I cannot but believe that 
 kindred impressions must have been shared by very many readers. 
 To me ft was a revelation which led me to look upon trees with a 
 degree of sympathy which might almost be termed affection. Perhaps 
 the descriptions came home to me with the more force, from the fact 
 of my natural love, and life-long familiarity with our native forests. 
 Entirely independent of its scientific value, there is a permanent and 
 pervading interest in what Mr. Emerson has written. Its perusal has 
 always with me the same refreshing and soothing effect which the 
 forest itself inspires. There is an influence upon the mind like that 
 exquisite melody which may be deeply felt, while the source of its 
 power may be indescribable. Shakespeare speaks of finding ' tongues 
 in trees ' ; and it is this very language of nature which the writer has 
 caught, the whole tendency of which is to bring the entire mind into 
 harmony with nature itself." 
 
 The last and perfected edition of Mr. Emerson's work on the 
 " Trees and Shrubs of Massachusetts " was dedicated to Pro- 
 fessor Asa Gray, late President of the American Academy of 
 Arts and Sciences. Professor Gray, in a tribute to his friend 
 at a meeting of the Academy, May, 1881, said that the vol- 
 ume by Mr. Emerson in connection with the geological 
 survey of the Commonwealth is to be counted " among the 
 best fruits of that survey." 
 
 He then associates Dr. Jacob Bigelow with Mr. Emerson, 
 and says : 
 
 " The two classics of New England botany are Dr. Bigelow's well- 
 known ' Flora ' and Mr. Emerson's treatise on the ' Trees and Shrubs 
 of Massachusetts,' both side issues from active professional life ; both 
 unusually successful in the combination of popular with scientific 
 treatment of their subjects, and in the extent of their influence in 
 this community, as also in the appreciation accorded to them by 
 scientific men."
 
 24 
 
 Alluding to the progress which had been made in the 
 natural sciences during Mr. Emerson's lifetime, the deeper 
 and larger questions which had been dealt with by new 
 methods and exacter researches, Professor Gray adds : - 
 
 " To the advance that has been made within the last forty years 
 and more, Mr. Emerson's helping hand and his weighty influence have 
 largely contributed." 
 
 From so exact a scholar, and one of such unquestioned 
 authority, no added commendation is needed. 
 
 Soon after the new building connected with the Society of 
 Natural History had been completed, and the dedicatory ser- 
 vices had taken place, a new proposition was brought forward. 
 The purpose was publicly urged to make this institution 
 more emphatically an educational power in the community. 
 There were members of the Society, among whom was Mr. 
 George B. Emerson, who were not satisfied that these rare 
 collections should be left to yield only a momentary gratifica- 
 tion, to be considered as mere curiosities for the entertain- 
 ment of a passing hour. They felt rather that they should 
 be studied as the monuments of past ages, the authentic 
 record of a world's history ; that teachers especially should 
 have here every opportunity for study ; and that lectures 
 from the ablest men should aid their investigations, present- 
 ing every advantage by which their pupils should receive the 
 benefit. 
 
 This movement led to a series of lectures by eminent men 
 of science, who, aided by the invaluable specimens here 
 arranged, were listened to with profound interest by more 
 than six hundred teachers ; and one may realize how wide 
 must have been the influence thus exerted, when it is remem- 
 bered that twenty-seven thousand children were under the 
 daily care of the teachers thus assembled. 
 
 Professors Jeffries Wyman, William B. Rogers, Augustus 
 A. Gould, Asa Gray, were among those who lectured ; and at 
 the introductory meeting the Governor of the Commonwealth, 
 John A. Andrew ; the Mayor of the City, F. W. Lincoln ;
 
 25 
 
 and President Hill, of Harvard University, made impressive 
 remarks. The ablest scientific men in the country gave 
 to this movement their most cordial support. It is a great 
 satisfaction to know that the effort made at that time ex- 
 erts an unabated influence to this day. It was the inaugura- 
 tion of a new instrumentality, and the interest deepens as 
 time goes by. So strong is the conviction of its utility, and 
 the demand for instruction is so great, that a portion of the 
 Lowell Fund has been generously appropriated to carry on 
 the work. 
 
 Mr. Emerson had the strongest sympathy with the whole 
 movement. He took part in the introductory meeting. His 
 letter accepting the invitation is so cordial and modest, that it 
 seems like hearing his voice once more to read it. 
 
 3 PEMBERTON SQUARE, March 16, 1865. 
 Rev. R. G. WATERSTON. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, Your very kind note of the 12th came to me 
 yesterday. 
 
 In behalf of the teachers, whose elder brother I am, I thank you 
 for the interest you have shown in them, and at the same time I would 
 thank you for doing so much to bring the subject of Natural History 
 prominently forward as something to be thought of by teachers. I be- 
 lieve that one of the defects of teaching at present is in the neglect of it. 
 
 The programme of lectures is excellent ; indeed, it could not be im- 
 proved. The rich and accurate stores of knowledge of Wyman and 
 Gould, and the ready eloquence of Rogers, give promise of very 
 attractive and valuable lectures. I have never heard Mr. Scudder. 
 
 I shall endeavor to be present at the place and hour you indicate, 
 and mean to come prepared to speak if it should seem desirable. My 
 organ of language is so poor, that I always find it better to say nothing, 
 if others can be persuaded to speak upon the subject I have been 
 revolving; especially if I can have an opportunity of suggesting 
 thoughts in conversation. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 GEO. B. EMERSON. 
 
 Mr. Emerson's convictions in regard to the teaching of 
 Natural History will find best expression through his own 
 words :
 
 26 
 
 " The relation between the mind of man and the universe in which 
 he is placed by the Creator of both, is established for wise purposes, 
 which it becomes us to inquire into and reverence. The volume of 
 nature, with its infinite variety, is spread out before the opening eye, 
 every page teeming with interest, inviting and rewarding inquiry. 
 Every object is full of beauty, every sound has an echo in the heart of 
 a child. Its simplest elements are level with the meanest capacity, 
 and can be grasped by the weakest hand ; while its exhaustless abun- 
 dance fills the most mature mind and taxes the strongest." 
 
 And then, not willing to confine either himself or others to 
 any narrow field of inquiry, he adds : 
 
 " Study plants, birds, shells, rocks, any thing that is God's work- 
 manship. Do not for a moment think that the study of his works, 
 pursued in a right spirit, can fail to bring you nearer to Him." 
 
 These lectures, commenced by the Society of Natural His- 
 tory eighteen years ago, with the apprehension on the part 
 of many that they would probably endure but for a very 
 brief period, never, in fact, have been so prosperous as at 
 present ; and now that so large a number of able teachers 
 give practical evidence of their attractive power, it is doubly 
 pleasant to recall Mr. Emerson's interest in their inaugura- 
 tion, and the earnest manner in which he gave them both his 
 sympathy and support. 
 
 The world upon which George B. Emerson entered in 
 1797 can hardly be considered the same as that from which 
 he departed in 1881, so vast and rapid had been the advance- 
 ment in nearly every phase of society. During this period 
 a nobler type of civilization was developing itself. An un- 
 precedented activity was perceptible on every side.* Hardly 
 a clay elapsed without some scientific or mechanical discovery. 
 The realms of space were penetrated. The most complex 
 elements were analyzed. The upheavals of remotest epochs 
 
 * See in the Supplement a statement upon the Growth of the Country, 
 Railroads, Telegraphs, Telephones, Discoveries, and Inventions during Mr. 
 Emerson's lifetime.
 
 27 
 
 were read in the formation of the planet, while the kingdoms 
 of nature, through every clime, revealed their secret laws. 
 The seed scattered by master minds had taken root and was 
 fast making visible its results. New forms of industry were 
 springing into being, and the forces of the material creation 
 were rendering cheerful obedience to the will of man. Oceans 
 and continents were becoming more and more closely inter- 
 woven, while electric thought, annihilating space, encircled 
 the globe. To-day the farmer in his field gathers his harvest 
 by machiner}-, the housewife by her fireside has ways once 
 unknown of replenishing her wardrobe, while the print- 
 ing-press scatters its products like snow-flakes over the 
 nations. 
 
 Mr. Emerson's life, arching over more than eighty years of 
 the nineteenth century, led him to see changes such as the 
 world had never witnessed before. Under all these influ- 
 ences his career shaped itself. His thoughts in no small 
 degree were thus marked and moulded, and his whole life 
 and character received a coloring from the peculiar incidents 
 through which he passed. Not that he was the passive 
 creature of external circumstances ; but with his sympathetic 
 and receptive nature he was alive to influences, and from the 
 nobler tendencies of his being he assimilated what was best. 
 That which was elevating and enduring became his nutri- 
 ment, and was converted into individual life and creative 
 energy. He looked upon living thought from whatever quar- 
 ter it came, studied it, opened his heart to it, and made it 
 his own ; yet he both reflected and acted for himself. When 
 he studied trees or flowers it was to the forest and the hill- 
 side he went. If at midnight he was still engrossed over 
 Xenophon and Herodotus and the Odyssey, depriving him- 
 self of sleep and rest, it was to embody that fresh knowl- 
 edge and power which should aid in the work of progress both 
 individually and socially. The impulse of the century stirred 
 him, and he in turn sought to extend and multiply that 
 impulse over his time. A century which for mental activity 
 and scientific achievement has never been surpassed, found 
 in him a worthy recipient and a faithful promoter.
 
 28 
 
 He felt that no privilege could be greater than to participate 
 in such experiences. The love of knowledge blazed within 
 him like an inextinguishable flame whereat he would allow 
 all others to light their tapers or kindle their fire. This was 
 a predominating passion ; but whatever information he ac- 
 quired he was eager to put to a generous use. To gain and 
 to impart, were ruling principles of his life. Two things to 
 him had a sacred import: to learn and to teach, to learn all 
 that was true and good, and to impart as much of it as might 
 be in his power. Quiet in his manners, considerate and well- 
 balanced, he united untiring industry with an absolute devo- 
 tion to duty. 
 
 To instruct was a natural impulse of his being. He was 
 a born teacher. There seemed to him no higher sphere or 
 holier vocation than that which enabled him to enlighten 
 and elevate the minds of others. Thus for more than forty 
 years did he devote himself faithfully to his great work. 
 In no merely artificial manner was that labor performed. 
 Not the written rules of text-books were his arbitrary guide. 
 His knowledge was full of life. Mind communed with 
 mind. Enthusiasm was kindled, awakening at the time, 
 and leaving behind it, an indescribable charm. He called 
 forth that true sympathy which binds heart to heart, and 
 which, amid all after changes, is never forgotten. In a com- 
 munity familiar with the best teachers he was second to none. 
 Gentle and true in all he said and did, it was not simply what 
 he taught, but what he was, that gave him his exalted 
 position. There was a calm dignity which made his presence 
 attractive, while his evident sincerity commanded confidence 
 and respect. His pupils became, in after life, scattered widely 
 over this country and in Europe, and we believe not one was 
 ever known to speak of him without lasting gratitude and 
 unqualified affection. 
 
 To other teachers and to the public generally his words 
 upon the subject of education always carried great weight 
 and were received with peculiar respect. His labors in this 
 way were constant and varied, and it would be difficult to 
 estimate the good that must thus have been accomplished.
 
 29 
 
 One great means of influence which he possessed, was the 
 leading minds that were naturally drawn to him, by whom 
 and through whom he, almost unconsciously to themselves, ex- 
 erted power. Men of the highest culture, citizens of the most 
 responsible positions, prized his companionship. Probably in 
 no community could a larger circle of influential persons be 
 found than in that section of the country where he resided, 
 those who by their active philanthropy and judicious be- 
 nevolence labored willingly for the public good. With all 
 such generous and noble-hearted citizens Mr. Emerson was 
 a special favorite. They desired his sympathy, sought his 
 counsel, and were eager for his co-operation ; and no one was 
 more ready to give both time and effort, or to devote them 
 more wisely, than he. 
 
 After Mr. Emerson had taught school for more than forty 
 years, his friends persuaded him that he needed rest, and that 
 he ought to visit Europe. Many of his tastes pointed in that 
 direction. His familiarity with history, science, and litera- 
 ture must have given, through all his journeyings, a fresh im- 
 pulse to his mind ; while his intimacy with both the ancient 
 and modern languages enabled him to converse freely every- 
 where with men of letters, the artist and the artisan. Eng- 
 land, France, Germany, Italy, were to him all crowded with 
 interest. We remember meeting him in the midst of these 
 attractions and rejoicing at the vigor of his thought. In Paris 
 he gave us an account of his visit to Rome. We recall the 
 fact that he dwelt particularly upon the Forum and the 
 Colosseum, describing the plants and flowers he had gathered 
 there, counting as high as three hundred. Other collections 
 he had made from the Campagna and the Palace of the 
 Caesars. Four pleasant months were passed in Rome, wan- 
 dering through galleries, clambering over ruins, penetrating 
 catacombs, musing in St. Peter's, and searching through the 
 untold wonders of the Eternal City. At Naples he ascended 
 Vesuvius, looked down into its burning crater, and off over 
 its incomparable view, a scene which seemed like some spell 
 of enchantment. He visited Psestum, and beheld the temples 
 which had met the storms of twenty centuries; and he found
 
 30 
 
 his way through Etruscan towns which have stood for ages, 
 and where the wild flowers awakened his admiration. He 
 would fill his carriage with plants and vines, that he might 
 have an opportunity, on returning to his rooms, of examining 
 them more at leisure. In the different countries he visited, 
 such was his familiarity with the languages spoken, and so 
 readily did he adapt himself to the manners and customs of 
 the people, that they considered him as one of themselves 
 and almost forgot that he was a foreigner. 
 
 In visiting Germany he gave minute examination to the 
 schools, watching every step taken, whether by teachers or 
 pupils, day after day, and often from morning to night. As 
 one result, he was satisfied that the schools in New England 
 had no reason to shrink from a comparison with them. 
 
 He returned from his foreign travels with a strengthened 
 determination to make himself useful to others. That he 
 was true to this purpose, all will testify who knew him. To 
 do good seemed to be with him even more profoundly than 
 ever a prevailing motive. 
 
 In 1870 Mr. Emerson, in company with Dr. Jacob Bigelow, 
 then in his eighty-third year, visited the Pacific coast. 
 
 In their youth, the Mississippi River might well have 
 appeared almost beyond reach ; now it was but as a starting- 
 point. Then the Rocky Mountains seemed inaccessible as 
 the Himalaya ; now, as their dark sides were lifted against 
 the sky, the railroad could be seen winding over them. 
 Here, after leaving Cheyenne, high up among the mountains, 
 at least seven thousand feet, is the plateau known as Laramie 
 Plain. It is a little curious that the number of flowering 
 plants here is recorded as three hundred distinct varieties, 
 exactly the number Mr. Emerson had found in the Colosseum 
 on his visit to Italy. What possible contrast could be greater 
 than the two scenes, their aspect, history, and associations! 
 From thence the travellers went to Salt Lake City and the 
 Mormon Tabernacle. They visited Council Bluffs, Echo 
 Canyon, crossing the Alkali Plains. They ascended the 
 Sierra Nevada and passed down the western slope. They
 
 31 
 
 were at San Francisco, Calistoga Springs, Sacramento, and 
 Copperopolis. They studied the characteristic features of 
 the redwood-trees and the Sequoia gigantea. It is difficult 
 to comprehend what must have been the impression made 
 upon minds like theirs by objects so novel and on so vast a 
 scale. They reached home without an accident. 
 
 Without dwelling, at present, upon the Civil War,* which 
 formed so momentous an event during the latter part of Mr. 
 Emerson's life, we will ask attention to but one movement 
 which was most beneficent in its results, and in which he was 
 actively engaged. From the very beginning of the war large 
 numbers who had been slaves were thrown out of employment 
 and needed both advice and instruction. Promptly through 
 the whole North and West, associations were formed for the 
 aid and direction of the freedmen. Many persons, both male 
 and female, volunteered as teachers, ready to leave their homes 
 and endure any hardships if they could be of service. The 
 chief object of the Educational Commission was the industrial, 
 social, intellectual, moral, and religious improvement of persons 
 released from slavery in the course of the war for the Union. 
 Mr. Emerson was from the commencement of this movement 
 intimately associated with it. He held the responsible posi- 
 tion of Chairman of the Committee on Teachers, and in his 
 reports he expresses his views upon the duties before them, 
 and the result of what had been done. He states that "the 
 blacks upon many of the plantations had been deserted by 
 their former masters, and were without control or guidance. 
 No system or order had yet been introduced into their habits 
 or their methods of labor. The life of dependence which 
 they had so long led had unfitted them for the time, with few 
 exceptions, for independent action on their own account." 
 
 Both at Port Royal and the Sea Islands the work of in- 
 struction was carried on systematically and extensively, and 
 with most gratifying success. At Port Royal Mr. Edward 
 L. Pierce (since so well known on both sides of the Atlantic 
 
 * See in the Supplement further remarks upon this period.
 
 32 
 
 by his biography of Charles Sumner) acted as superintendent, 
 with thirty-one teachers. Every thing was done which an 
 enlightened policy and humane feeling could dictate. Other 
 teachers were soon sent, making the number at Port Royal 
 seventy-two. From two to three thousand children received 
 instruction in the schools. Teachers were also at work in 
 Fortress Monroe, at Washington and Alexandria, and other 
 places. The number of persons ready and anxious to engage 
 in this work was very great. Mr. Emerson states in his 
 report that hundreds of letters, had been received, many 
 from persons of the highest qualifications, desirous to labor 
 in so interesting a field, and willing to endure personal hard- 
 ships and to make any sacrifice. " It was soon apparent," 
 he writes, " as had already been anticipated, that the in- 
 struction most needed by the blacks was not in the knowl- 
 edge of school-books, but in that which should lead them 
 to appreciate the advantage of civilized life, to relinquish the 
 habits and customs of slavery, and to learn the duties and 
 responsibilities of free men." 
 
 In the work in which Mr. Emerson was actively engaged, 
 more than a thousand teachers were employed throughout 
 the South, imparting instruction to over one hundred thou- 
 sand persons, both young and old. 
 
 During the memorable period of Mr. Emerson's life, may it 
 not justly be said, that he witnessed, if not the formation of a 
 national literature, the preliminary steps to such a desirable 
 consummation? In the days of his early youth, and even in 
 his advancing manhood, nearly all books printed or read in 
 America were written by authors associated with other coun- 
 tries. Ev^n the books that were written here, were for the 
 most part modelled upon foreign standards. The leading 
 minds of other lands were naturally the guides of our intel- 
 lectual life. History, biography, poetry and prose, and all 
 the different phases of literature, came to us as a matter of 
 course from beyond the Atlantic. The time had not yet come 
 for an original growth. The Reformation, the Revival of 
 Learning, the "golden age " of Elizabeth, the men of sci-
 
 33 
 
 ence and philosophy, were our rich and abundant resources. 
 With such treasures within reach, it was a temptation to 
 reproduce rather than to create. Through all nature there are 
 separate stages of growth. Each period in a country's history 
 has its own work. First are the pioneers, by whom forests are 
 to be felled and lands cleared and cultivated ; then comes 
 the promotion of social order and the development of civil 
 institutions ; then every variety of manual labor, agriculture, 
 traffic, commerce ; then the great questions of human rights, 
 with the struggle for progress and freedom. These are prac- 
 tical problems to be solved, and for the time are supreme. 
 Native authorship with original strength and vigor, kindling 
 with individual genius, will ripen in due time. There is a 
 fitting season for preparation. One period becomes the 
 essential precursor of that which follows. Down to the 
 opening of the nineteenth century there was in this countr} r 
 all that answered the immediate want. But with the increase 
 of intellectual activity came a new development of original 
 power, a freshness of imagery, strength of thought, masterly 
 methods of presentation, and the undeniable impress of 
 creative genius ; not simply a transplanting from other lands, 
 but the adoption from various literatures of whatever ele- 
 ments are best, with a new spirit superadded, embracing in 
 its comprehensiveness both depth and breadth, breathing the 
 aroma of the woods, and reflecting, through all, the life and 
 spirit of the time. Mr. William Cullen Bryant as late as 
 1817, when Mr. Emerson was twenty years of age, in referring 
 to the prominent American poets of that day, names, in all 
 honesty, D wight, Barlow, Trumbull, Humphreys, Clifton, and 
 Honeywood ; and he speaks of a Dr. Ladd of Rhode Island, 
 who was much celebrated in his time for poetical talent. 
 Contrast this poetical literature with what has since become 
 familiar to every mind, through the productions of Bryant, 
 Dana, Longfellow, Lowell, Whittier, and Holmes, and many 
 others whose writings are now as well known beyond the 
 sea as in our own land. We will not venture to expatiate 
 upon this theme. Neither need we speak of Washington 
 Irving, or Ralph Waldo Emerson, or Nathaniel Hawthorne, 
 
 6
 
 34 
 
 unsurpassed in their way ; or of historians like Sparks, and 
 Prescott, and Motley, and Bancroft, all of whom, during the 
 life we are considering, did a marvellous work in perfecting 
 the literature of their country and time, and stamping it with 
 a national character. 
 
 It is understood to have been through Mr. Emerson's in- 
 fluence' that his friend, Mr. James Arnold, of New Bedford, 
 left the munificent bequest upon which the Arnold Arbore- 
 tum at Cambridge is founded. 
 
 In 1859 Mr. Emerson received from Harvard University 
 the degree of Doctor of Laws. He was early elected a mem- 
 ber of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, of which 
 through many years he continued a valued associate. 
 
 We have traced his career through one of the most event- 
 ful periods of history, and have seen that he did his part to 
 secure, both to the individual and to society, the advantage 
 of positive knowledge. He united in all his studies an un- 
 wavering love of truth, with quiet self-control, and conscien- 
 tious fidelity. 
 
 These qualities of his character have a yet deeper signifi- 
 cance when we recur to his domestic experiences, and know 
 how often, in the midst of his many duties, the sanctity of his 
 home was overshadowed by great bereavements. In 1823 
 Mr. Emerson married Olivia, daughter of the Rev. Dr. Buck- 
 min'ster, of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and sister of the 
 Rev. Joseph Stevens Buckminster, one of the cherished names 
 of New England. Mrs. Emerson died in 1832, leaving three 
 children. George, the eldest son, was graduated with distin- 
 guished honors at Cambridge, in 1845; after spending two 
 years in Europe, he died in 1848. Francis, the second son, 
 took his degree at Harvard in 1849, and died in 1867. The 
 only daughter, Lucy, survives, and is the wife of Judge Lowell. 
 In 1834 Mr. Emerson married Mary Flemming, daughter of 
 the late William Rotch, of New Bedford, sister of Mrs. James 
 Arnold, a name associated, by Mr. Arnold's generous bequest 
 with the Cambridge Arboretum. In these events are suggested
 
 35 
 
 to us joys and sorrows which imparted added tenderness and 
 depth to a nature that had faith wisely to accept them. 
 
 After a life crowded with usefulness, George B. Emerson 
 died March 4, 1881, at the advanced age of eighty-four. He 
 had known the sharp anguish of being separated by death 
 from those very dear to him, but he had met even his severest 
 bereavements with a firm trust. Never had his mind been 
 darkened or irnbittered by grief ; rather through such disci- 
 pline was his faith strengthened, and his whole nature led 
 into closer communion with Heaven. " Thus advancing years, 
 while they brought incidental feebleness, became associated 
 also with accumulated blessings, while he had 
 
 " That which should accompany old age, 
 As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends." 
 
 Those who, through his active life, had been his co-workers, 
 felt deeply his loss ; while the young, who had been taught 
 by his wisdom, dwelt fondly upon his memory, always cherish- 
 ing with their sacred recollections, a sense of profound in- 
 debtedness and grateful affection. 
 
 His whole life had portrayed the attractiveness of truth. 
 With clear perceptions and calm judgment he had been faith- 
 ful to his highest convictions. Sincere in his goodness, each 
 duty had been fulfilled with undeviating integrity. Thus 
 even to his last days he was tranquil and happy. The kind 
 Providence that had watched over him through all his pil- 
 grimage was still with him to smooth his pathway, showing 
 him, at times, visions of his celestial home. With brightest 
 anticipation did he pass into the glorious future : 
 
 " His riper age 
 
 Marked with some act of goodness every day ; 
 And, watched by eyes that loved him, calm and sage, 
 
 Faded his late declining years away. 
 Cheerful he gave his being up, and went 
 To share the holy rest that waits a life well spent."
 
 SUPPLEMENT.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IN preparing, at the request of the Massachusetts Historical 
 Society, the preceding Memoir of Mr. George B. Emerson, 
 the writer adhered closely to the thread of the narrative. 
 Additional statements are here introduced in the form of a 
 Supplement, some referring to circumstances and facts which, 
 more or less directly, affected his career and tended to give 
 a coloring to his whole life. 
 
 No man can be properly understood except by measuring 
 him with the period in which he lived. We must know 
 the condition of society in which he acted ; how it influenced 
 him, and how he, in return, was affected by it. No man is 
 entirely independent of existing circumstances ; they all 
 help to modify the character. Some natures are doubtless 
 more impressible than others, and according to the quality of 
 the mind will be the character of the effect produced. All 
 outward circumstances in some degree act upon the mind ; 
 and the mind, in its turn, reacts upon them. Every strong 
 nature has a controlling force which rules from within, stamp- 
 ing itself indelibly upon its time. So also with the master 
 spirits of the age, the impressions they receive, and the influ- 
 ence they exert; how they act and how they are acted upon, 
 must be studied and understood. 
 
 There were two individuals, most extraordinary in their 
 position and character, one in the Eastern and one in the 
 Western Hemisphere, who presented in every respect the 
 greatest possible contrast, and who were emphatically the ex- 
 ponents of their time and of the hemispheres in which they 
 lived. The one covered the heavens with a lurid glare ; 
 the other shed over all a genial and healthy glow. The latter
 
 40 
 
 had created for his country a new era ; gaining for its 
 people not only great opportunities, but, above all, constitu- 
 tional liberty. His life and the life of Mr. Emerson met. 
 They were interlinked, and those two lives united (covering 
 together one hundred and forty-nine years) take us back to 
 the period when the vast region beyond the Alleghanies, in- 
 cluding the valley of the Ohio and the wide sweep of the 
 Mississippi, the river in itself over three thousand miles in 
 length, with an area of between two and three million 
 square miles, together with the extended northwest, and the 
 whole realm of the Rocky Mountains, even to the shores of 
 the Pacific Ocean, was one unbroken wilderness, inhabited 
 by savage tribes. Those two lives embrace the astonishing 
 extreme between what then existed and what we may now 
 see. The whole growth of the country, through that period, 
 opens to the thought a marvellous history. 
 
 The life of a man resembles in some respects that of a 
 city. It is not simply the crowded streets and squares t hat- 
 impart to a metropolis its interest. The question will pre- 
 sent itself: Has it a history, recollections, traditions? The 
 settlement known once as "Trimountain," and which the 
 Indians called " Shawmut," has it nothing but a material 
 existence ? Is there no attraction beyond what meets the 
 eye, or is there a life reaching into the past? Why do men 
 ask where Franklin was born, where Hancock lived, and from 
 what church spire the lantern was hung that gave the signal 
 for Paul Revere's ride ? Who will tell us the position of 
 Blackstone's farm ; or point out the favorite walks of Sir 
 Henry Vane ; or bring back to our imagination the impas- 
 sioned eloquence of James Otis and Samuel Adams; or recall 
 John Cotton as he preached here on market days at the old 
 Thursday lecture, or before that, for twenty years and more, 
 under the Gothic arches of St. Botolph's, in Lincolnshire? or 
 are we carried, in thought, out of Massachusetts Bay, around 
 Cape Horn, and along the Pacific coast, until, in the far North- 
 west, we behold the discovery of the Columbia River ? Does 
 not all this make part of Boston, and add to the charm that 
 binds us ?
 
 41 
 
 What to us would be the little town of Palos, if we for- 
 got that Columbus sailed thence to discover America ? 
 
 Even Rome, with the Vatican and St. Peter's, the Coliseum 
 and the Forum, Avhat would it be without its shadowy 
 and majestic past? and is it not something to remember 
 that Paul " dwelt there two whole years in his own hired 
 house " ? 
 
 Following this Introduction will be found various state- 
 ments and facts bearing more or less directly upon the time 
 in which Mr. Emerson lived. These, it is believed, will serve 
 to illustrate more fully the period with which he was identi- 
 fied, while others may act as side-lights, bringing out with 
 added force the features of that portraiture which it has been 
 the purpose of the preceding Memoir to delineate. 
 
 Mr. Emerson's life covered so large a portion of the nine- 
 teenth century, and witnessed such an unprecedented expan- 
 sion and progress in the country and the age, that it is thought 
 the facts presented may have more than a passing interest. 
 With this impression they have been brought together, and 
 are herewith respectfully presented to the reader.
 
 NAPOLEON. 
 
 HIS CONQUESTS IN EUROPE, AND IMPRESSIONS MADE 
 BEYOND THE ATLANTIC. 
 
 WHEN George B. Emerson was an infant in his cradle, 
 Napoleon, with an army of forty thousand men, had landed 
 in Egypt ; and as the rising sun lighted up the minarets of 
 Cairo and shone upon the Pyramids, Napoleon, never unmind- 
 ful of effect, exclaimed : " Soldiers, from those summits forty 
 centuries are looking down upon you ! " After a desperate 
 struggle and terrible slaughter, Cairo was taken, and the 
 whole of Lower Egypt was conquered. Then the monuments 
 of antiquity were ransacked, while treasures of art and plun- 
 der of every description, as the trophies of conquest, were 
 forwarded to Paris. The " Battle of the Nile " followed, in 
 which Nelson utterly annihilated the French fleet. To Napo- 
 leon this was a terrible disaster ; and, thus cut off from the 
 present possibility of return, he resolved with ten thousand 
 men to press forward over the desert sands into Syria. Here 
 Gazah (the ancient city of the Philistines) and Jaffa (the 
 Joppa of Holy Writ), after a desperate fight, were obliged to 
 surrender. Suddenly following this came the siege of Acre. 
 Sir Sydney Smith, who had been cruising in the Levant, 
 united with the defenders of Acre ; and the French, after 
 various unsuccessful assaults, with heavy loss, were obliged 
 to retreat. Napoleon, enraged and bitterly disappointed, his 
 army suffering, at the same time, from famine and pestilence, 
 to the best of his abilit}^ made his way back to Cairo. 
 
 Previous to the invasion of Egypt, Napoleon had carried 
 his conquests into Italy; where, with impetuous fury, he 
 swept over the rich plains of Lombardy and Piedmont,
 
 43 
 
 with great carnage taking rapid possession of Milan, Mantua, 
 Modena, Bologna, Trieste, and Venice, bringing them all, 
 with their surrounding provinces, into absolute subjection. 
 
 Such were the events of which Emerson heard- the recital 
 in his early childhood and advancing youth. Those events, 
 which were then the stirring occurrences of the time, were 
 naturally an absorbing topic of thought. By speedy strides 
 the soldier of Corsica became General, First Consul, and 
 Emperor. With unparalleled daring and consummate skill, 
 the ambition of this man seemed absolutely boundless. Even 
 while ruling with despotic power over a large portion of the 
 continent of Europe, he was ever eager for new acquisitions. 
 Nation after nation was humbled at his feet. Province after 
 province was added to his empire. Crowned heads, subju- 
 gated by his advancing armies, were forced to comply with 
 the most exacting requisitions ; yet while there was one thing 
 left which he had not brought wholly under his sway, his 
 extended hands ceaselessly grasped for more. What then 
 was to be expected next, and what would be the end ? 
 
 In the days of Mr. Emerson's boyhood the Supreme Court 
 of Massachusetts had two circuits every year into Maine, 
 the judges holding their court at York, quite near to his 
 father's dwelling, under whose hospitable roof they often 
 passed their evenings ; where gentlemen distinguished for 
 their character and ability united with them in the social 
 interchange of thought. How frequently, at such times, the 
 conversation must have turned upon the latest news from 
 beyond the Atlantic, some new country overrun and con- 
 quered, some perplexed inonarchs dethroned, some additional 
 dynasties created ! Now special edicts were considered ; 
 and now separate deeds came up for judgment, such as the 
 deliberate shooting of the prisoners at Jaffa, or the cruel 
 fate of the Due d'Enghien at the fortress of Vincennes, or 
 the heartless divorce from Josephine. Now the splendor of 
 Napoleon's genius was the subject of remark, his military 
 acumen, his administrative and executive ability, his unend- 
 ing toil, his unexampled perseverance, his unflinching defiance 
 of danger ; and again his intense and unmitigated selfishness,
 
 44 
 
 his unscrupulous use of unworthy means, and the coldness 
 and cruelty of his nature. Now it was the potentate and 
 the conqueror ; and again it was the oppressor and the 
 despot. 
 
 Emerson was fifteen years of age, preparing for college at 
 the Dummer Academy, when news of the invasion of Russia 
 with from four to five hundred thousand men, and their 
 speedy and overwhelming defeat, reached this country. The 
 fearful conflagration of Moscow seemed to send the light of 
 its glaring flame across the ocean ; the piercing winds and 
 drifting snows could be almost heard and felt, and, with this, 
 the groans of the dying. Three hundred thousand men 
 and thirty thousand horses miserably perished. Napoleon's 
 aim was for St. Petersburg and the fleet at Cronstadt. 
 In his apprehension they were already his ; all Russia was 
 at his feet. As Napoleon gazed upon Moscow with its 
 battlements and towers, he felt that now all things were 
 within his grasp ; but as the flames suddenly burst forth in 
 every direction, secretly lighted by the hands of the inhab- 
 itants, dooming their city to ashes rather than see it in 
 possession of the enemy, it was a death-blow to his anticipa- 
 tions. For him there was no shelter and no relief. The 
 loss and the suffering that followed were without a parallel 
 in history. 
 
 One can imagine Dr. Benjamin Allen, the able master of 
 the Academy, calling upon the boys to pause in their studies 
 of Latin and Greek while he related to them the facts just re- 
 ceived. This was a lesson in contemporaneous history quite 
 as important as any passage in Homer or Herodotus. And 
 the boys afterwards, in the intervals of play, must have dwelt 
 upon these scenes, and offered their comments upon these 
 momentous events. When Mr. Emerson entered college, he 
 found that at Harvard, as elsewhere, there was no escape 
 from the one engrossing topic which agitated the public 
 mind. There were questions which many might ask, but 
 which few could answer. Was the great empire which Na- 
 poleon, with such toil and bloodshed, had gradually built 
 upward, now suddenly to collapse and crumble ? When and
 
 45 
 
 by whom was its doom to be spoken ? What were to be 
 the signs of this final overthrow? An impenetrable veil 
 yet hung over the whole future. No hand could draw it 
 aside, yet portentous shadows flitted ominously upon the 
 curtain ! 
 
 Power, influence, authority, all had appeared to centre 
 supremely in Napoleon. His vast dominion seemed to be con- 
 solidated upon foundations of adamant. He had exalted the 
 various members of his own family, conferring upon them all 
 the most commanding positions. His brother Joseph had 
 been crowned King of Naples and Sicily, and at a later day 
 was appointed King of Spain. His brother Louis had been 
 made King of Holland. Lucien was Prince of Canino, while 
 his brother Jerome had been created sovereign of Westphalia. 
 Thus did Napoleon seem fortified on every side, while his 
 favorite generals had also been placed in the highest possible 
 positions of honor and trust ; and, added to this, the work of 
 aggrandizement was constantly going on. To gain new re- 
 sources, other kingdoms must be won. Thus did he, unpro- 
 voked, make his desperate assault upon Russia ; and by this 
 fatal movement the magical spell which had surrounded him 
 was broken. He was seen to be no longer invulnerable. 
 
 Through all Mr. Emerson's college days, the eventful expe- 
 riences of Europe awakened an intense excitement ! As the 
 slow packet ships arrived, with how eager a curiosity must 
 the latest news have been sought! With men at Harvard 
 like Kirkland and Everett and Frisbie and Farrar, and with 
 such classmates as George Bancroft and Caleb Gushing and 
 Stephen Salisbury and Sewall and May, the expressions 
 of opinion upon passing events must have merited a candid 
 hearing. 
 
 The success of Napoleon thus far had depended upon his 
 continued conquests ; and the only way in which his sovereign 
 rule could be sustained was by pressing into yet other regions 
 the deadly work of war, all of which at length became so 
 intolerable that the allied forces, fully aroused, combined to 
 resist it. In 1813, the year that Emerson entered Harvard, 
 Napoleon, immediately after his Russian disaster, with incred-
 
 46 
 
 ible energy mustered an army of three hundred and fifty 
 thousand men, and with desperate determination made his 
 way into Germany. There, at Leipsie, was fought what is 
 well known as the great " Battle of Nations ;" one of the 
 longest, sternest, and bloodiest battles on record, and by which 
 the French Emperor was overwhelmed in hopeless ruin. In 
 due time the allied forces entered Paris amid the acclama- 
 tions of the populace, and the abdication of Napoleon fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 The little island of Elba now became his appointed home, 
 from which, however, within a twelvemonth he made his 
 well-known escape. His sudden reappearance kindled the 
 French people into momentary admiration, and once again 
 came the inevitable preparation for war. Thirty thousand 
 additional men were called for, by whom the final test was 
 to be made. The one word Waterloo pronounces the decis- 
 ive result. As by the crash of a thunderbolt the mighty 
 empire was shattered. June, 1815, witnessed this tremen- 
 dous conclusion. Napoleon hastened to Paris, exclaiming 
 that all was lost. Speedily upon this followed his banish- 
 ment to St. Helena. There he remained for six years, and on 
 the 5th of May, 1821, died. He who through his many 
 triumphs and reverses had been the master spirit and con- 
 trolling power, concentrating upon himself every eye, was 
 no longer upon the earth. 
 
 On both sides of the Atlantic that extraordinary career, 
 thus tragically closed, was the subject of universal com- 
 ment. At his approach governments had been overturned 
 and thrones demolished. Before his impetuous attacks 
 armies had been swept as by a whirlwind ; while nation after 
 nation, trembling in terror, had bowed down before his 
 imperious demands. Now he was seen rushing amid the 
 storms of battle over the bridge of Lodi ; and now, with 
 his armed hosts, he was scaling the precipitous passes of the 
 Alps. His history throughout was connected with human 
 affairs upon a colossal scale. Rapidity of movement and 
 a dazzling splendor of effect took the world constantly by 
 surprise.
 
 47 
 
 Thus for twenty years, through the whole formative period 
 of Mr. Emerson's life, Napoleon's career must have attracted 
 to itself constant attention. It was a great drama of the 
 nations, presenting itself, scene after scene, not as an illusion, 
 but as an impressive reality. He saw one man, by military 
 force, bringing nation after nation under his control, until it 
 seemed as if no earthly power could prevent his gaining 
 universal dominion. What a field was here for observation ! 
 what incentives to thought ! How could any mind interested 
 in the study of races, of languages, of institutions, be indiffer- 
 ent to such extraordinary events, transpiring on so vast a 
 scale ! What a personality was here ! what capacities, what 
 characteristics, to be measured and analyzed ! That which 
 preceded Napoleon and shaped the way for him, the French 
 Revolution, what did that spring from, and what did it 
 produce? Then the first appearance of Napoleon and his 
 after career, what did he propose to do, and what did 
 he actually accomplish ? how much of good, and how much 
 of evil ? Had the feudal monarchies become outgrown, and 
 were they waiting to be demolished ? Had the people been 
 held, for the most part, in abject servitude, and were they at 
 length passionately demanding a more adequate recognition? 
 Were there intolerable wrongs to be redressed, and had ig- 
 norance and oppression created bitter animosities and kindled 
 a spirit of ungovernable resentment, which were to be made 
 the tools of a military despotism? Why were flourishing 
 regions laid waste, and populous cities left in smouldering 
 ruin ? What in all those lands, thus desolated by war, was 
 the condition of the people ? How many questions pressed 
 upon the mind for some honest solution ! 
 
 It may be said that Europe was too far removed from 
 America to awaken here any special interest. Nothing could 
 be further from the fact. All that transpired abroad was 
 closely watched. Every sign of progress was hailed with 
 joy ; each retrograde movement occasioned grief. 
 
 One instance among many may be mentioned, illustrating 
 the intense sympathy of feeling which prevailed ; not a feel- 
 ing confining itself to quiet thought, but seeking public
 
 48 
 
 demonstration. When intelligence reached this country of 
 Napoleon's overthrow, the citizens of Massachusetts, by a 
 large committee chosen for the purpose, were requested to 
 convene at Boston. Large numbers of people having assem- 
 bled, thanks were fervently offered to Almighty God for "the 
 world's deliverance from a cruel despotism," and (as they 
 emphatically pronounced it) " the usurped power of a fero- 
 cious military adventurer." 
 
 The gentlemen most prominent in this movement were 
 confessedly the ablest men in the Commonwealth, among 
 whom were the Hon. George Cabot, Thomas Handasyd Per- 
 kins, John Lowell, William Sullivan, Harrison Gray Otis, 
 Christopher Gore, John Warren, George Bliss, and Samuel 
 Putnam. 
 
 Not satisfied with an individual utterance of opinion and 
 with resolutions which deliberately expressed their views, 
 they recommended the observance of a solemn religious festi- 
 val commemorative of the goodness of God in the fulfilment 
 of this great event; and subsequently the Rev. William Ellery 
 Channing was chosen to preach the discourse. This "solemn 
 festival," with accompanying services, took place at King's 
 Chapel. On an occasion of such public interest doubtless 
 the University of Cambridge was fully represented ; both 
 professors and students would be present, and among the 
 students no one more heartily than Mr. Emerson would 
 sympathize with a discourse of such eloquence and power. 
 
 " Shall we be dumb," exclaimed the speaker, " amidst the shouts 
 and thanksgivings of the world ? Is it nothing to us that other nations 
 are blest ? Does the ocean which rolls between us extinguish all the 
 sympathies which should bind us to our kind ? Can we hear with 
 indifference that the rod of the oppressor is broken ? Away with this 
 cold and barbarous selfishness ! Nature and religion abhor it. Nature 
 and religion teach us that we and all men are brethren, made of one 
 blood, related to one Father. They call us to lift up our voices against 
 injustice and tyranny, wherever they are exercised ; and to exult in the 
 liberation of the oppressed, and the triumphs of freedom and virtue 
 through every region under heaven. We are not to suffer the ties 
 of family and country to contract our hearts, to separate us from our
 
 49 
 
 race, to repress that diffusive philanthropy which is the brightest 
 image man can bear of the universal Father. God intends that our 
 sympathies should be wide and generous. We read with emotion the 
 records of nations buried in the sepulchre of distant ages, the records 
 of ancient virtue wresting from the tyrant his abused power ; and shall 
 the deliverance of contemporary nations, from which we sprung and 
 with which all our interests are blended, awaken no ardor, no gratitude, 
 no joy ? 
 
 " Europe is free ! Most transporting, most astonishing deliverance ! 
 How lately did we see her sitting in sackcloth and ashes ; and now she 
 is arrayed in the garments of praise and salvation. Instead of the 
 deep and stifled groans of oppression, one general acclamation now 
 bursts on us from all her tribes and tongues. It ascends from the 
 Alps, the Pyrenees, the Apennines ; it issues from the forests of the 
 North ; it is wafted to us on the milder winds of the South. In every 
 language the joy-inspiring acclamation reaches our ears, The oppressor 
 is fallen, and the world is free" 
 
 As an expression of his convictions in regard to Napoleon, 
 Channing adds : 
 
 " The most conspicuous man in Europe and in the world was a 
 despot, black with crimes, the dark features of whose character were 
 not brightened by a gleam of virtue. . . . But one thing we know, 
 that God has mercifully interposed and broken the power of the op- 
 pressor. For this most gracious and wonderful deliverance let every 
 heart thank, arid every tongue praise, him. Most holy, most merciful 
 God, thine was the work ; thine be the glory ! Who will not rejoice? 
 Who will not catch and repeat the acclamation, which flies through so 
 many regions, The oppressor is fallen, and the world is free 1 ?" 
 
 This discourse by William Ellery Channing, delivered 
 when he was a young man of thirty-four, met with a hearty 
 response. At the close of the religious services the Hon. 
 Christopher Gore, who had been Governor of Massachusetts 
 and was then a member of the United States Senate, ad- 
 dfessed the assembly, on " that atrocious military despotism 
 which had now become subverted," and presented a series 
 of resolutions which were unanimously adopted. This meet- 
 ing was followed by public demonstrations, while in the 
 evening there were fireworks, and (by a special resolve of the 
 
 7
 
 50 
 
 Legislature) the State House was illuminated. According to 
 the statement of that day, " a vast multitude united in the 
 celebration." 
 
 The only purpose here is to show with what interest the 
 affairs of Europe were watched, at that period of our history, 
 on this side of the Atlantic ; that the movements of Napoleon 
 were closely observed, and a decided estimate formed of his 
 character ; and that a young man, through twenty years of a 
 thoughtful student's life, could not but have gathered some 
 lessons from events of such remarkable import.
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 WHAT HE DID FOR HIS OWN TIME, AND THE AGES WHICH 
 AEE TO FOLLOW. 
 
 PRECISELY a twelvemonth before young Emerson com- 
 menced his career, Washington's second term of office, as 
 Chief Magistrate of the nation, was drawing to its close, and 
 he gave to the country, as his parting henediction, his Farewell 
 Address. For forty-five years he had passed his life amid the 
 pressure of public cares, and he now looked forward with joy 
 to the quiet of private life ; wishing for the whole people the 
 best blessing and guidance of that Almighty Ruler, who had 
 so wonderfully led them on and crowned them with continued 
 favors. He then, with paternal solicitude, gave them his 
 closing counsels in words of such weighty wisdom and pro- 
 found import as have not only stamped them with immortal- 
 ity, but rendered them, with each successive year, broader 
 in their comprehensive meaning, and more precious in that 
 spirit which must always make them sacred to every lover of 
 his country. 
 
 That Address was received with universal favor. Every 
 mind and heart was quickened and touched, while through 
 its influence the whole nation seemed bound together more 
 firmly than ever before. What had Washington not done 
 for the benefit of his country ? what privation had he not 
 endured ? what trial had he not suffered ? As Commander- 
 in-Chief of the Continental Forces, we see him surrounded 
 by every possible difficulty ; with an army to discipline, 
 organize, create, not composed of veteran troops, fully 
 equipped and thoroughly drilled, but of farmers, mechanics, 
 and citizens in every walk of life, who at the first sound of
 
 52 
 
 alarm had instantly seized whatever weapon was within 
 their reach and volunteered their services. The yeomanry 
 rushed from surrounding provinces, not yet furnished with 
 the requisites of war. Tents, food, clothing, and ammunition 
 were yet to be supplied. Barrels of sand, marked as powder, 
 were rolled within the lines to prevent the men from being 
 utterly discouraged. And whom did these men propose to 
 meet thus ? The royal forces, who had enjoyed for long 
 years every advantage of professional discipline, and who 
 were abundantly supplied with the amplest stores which the 
 British Empire could furnish ; while the commanders of 
 these powerful battalions had gained a life-long experience 
 in important service upon foreign battle-fields. Who does 
 not recall that terrible winter of unexampled destitution at 
 Valley Forge, where the men had neither blankets, nor suffi- 
 cient clothing, nor even shoes to their feet, their very foot- 
 prints being marked with blood upon the frozen ground ? 
 Yet even then, in the darkest hours, Washington never lost 
 heart. Through severest perils he not only held firmly by 
 his own courage, but retained the respect, the confidence, 
 and the love of his men. In one instance of disaster he 
 exclaimed, " Though the enemy should succeed in obtain- 
 ing possession of the whole Atlantic States, I would retreat 
 behind the Alleghanies and bid them defiance there ! " 
 Such determination was inevitably to result in success and 
 triumph. 
 
 At the close of the war Washington told the army that "it 
 now only remained for the Commander-in-Chief to address 
 himself for the last time to the armies of the United States, 
 and to bid them an affectionate and long farewell ! " He 
 states that it is not necessary for him "to detail the hardships 
 peculiarly incident to their past service, or to describe the 
 distresses which, in several instances, have resulted from the 
 extremes of hunger and nakedness, combined with the rigors 
 of an inclement season ; nor is it necessary to dwell upon the 
 dark side of our past affairs." He then gladly turns to the 
 spirit with which they triumphed over outward circum- 
 stances, and declares that " the unparalleled perseverance of
 
 53 
 
 the armies of the United States, through almost every pos- 
 sible suffering and discouragement, for the space of eight 
 long years, was little short of a standing miracle." 
 
 The Commander-in-Chief also formally resigned his com- 
 mission to Congress. Offering his congratulations at the 
 independence and sovereignty which had been achieved, he 
 surrendered into their hands the trust which had been com- 
 mitted to him eight years before. 
 
 But one other event associated with this period placed him 
 yet higher (if that were possible) in the estimation of the 
 whole people. The country, overburdened by its enormous 
 debt, was exhausted and bankrupt. Its currency had become 
 so far depreciated as to be nearly worthless, and the soldiers 
 had no prospect of receiving their dues. Under such aggra- 
 vating circumstances they had naturally become exasperated. 
 It was a moment not only of apprehension, but of great 
 alarm. At this most critical period Washington, like him- 
 self, was equal to the trial. With a wisdom which never 
 forsook him, he magnanimously placed himself between the 
 nation and the army, firmly insisting upon measures of 
 equity ; and in doing justice , to both parties, he reconciled 
 all who were concerned, bringing peace and good-will to the 
 entire country. 
 
 Thus Washington, throughout his previous career, had been 
 the acknowledged centre of all. He was the magnetic force 
 around which persons of every position instinctively rallied. 
 Not simply as a military leader was he thus recognized, but 
 also as a patriot, a diplomatist, and a statesman. 
 
 Hostilities had indeed ceased. The array had been dis- 
 banded, but a feeling of dissatisfaction and gloom hung over 
 the land ; public credit was gone, commerce was at a stand, 
 trade was paralyzed, the resources of the country seemed to 
 have become extinguished. Of the handful of States each 
 had its own peculiarities, and none seemed willing to yield. 
 In regard to government, it might almost be said there was 
 none. If any measures were recommended, there was no 
 power to enforce them. Under such circumstances the ques- 
 tion constantly presented itself : " Is Liberty to be a blessing
 
 54 
 
 or a curse ?" The outside pressure from the war being over, 
 it looked, at times, as if all would fall to pieces. There 
 was a threatening aspect of anarchy. Washington writes : 
 " It is the perpetual wish of my heart to bind all parts of 
 the Union together in indissoluble bonds." " What a tri- 
 umph," he continues, " for the advocates of despotism, to 
 find that we are incapable of governing ourselves, and that 
 systems founded on the basis of equal liberty are merely 
 ideal and fallacious ! " " Let us have," he adds, " a govern- 
 ment by which our lives, liberties, and properties will be 
 secured, or let us know the worst at once ! " "I hoped," 
 said Washington, as he turned his face to Mount Vernon, 
 " to spend the remainder of my days in cultivating the 
 affections of good men and in the practice of domestic vir- 
 tues." But much as he desired rest and quietness, he could 
 never be indifferent to the claims of his country. The period 
 was one of extreme solicitude. The anxieties of war had 
 given way to the -yet greater anxieties of peace. The several 
 States were swayed by local interests, and distracted by 
 party jealousies. Public affairs were fast drawing to a crisis. 
 " Would to God," wrote Washington, " that wise measures 
 may be taken in time to avert the consequences we have but 
 too much reason to apprehend." " Thirteen sovereignties," 
 he writes, " pulling against each other, and all tugging 
 at the federal head, will soon bring ruin on the whole ! " 
 Thus did he continue to write and converse until his influ- 
 ence in this direction became more and more widely felt. 
 
 During this season of distrust and agitation the country 
 never lost its confidence in Washington. He seemed the one 
 vital power which bound together the whole. If the people 
 could feel that their hand was in his hand, they were willing 
 to be led. During this time he lost no opportunity, by cor- 
 respondence or consultation, of urging the subject upon the 
 minds of his countrymen, until, at length, a somewhat infor- 
 mal consideration of the question took place at Annapolis, 
 which, after more extended sanction, led to a convention of 
 deputies from all the States, convened at Philadelphia. The 
 necessity for action would admit of no further delay. There
 
 55 
 
 was in the country no executive head, no judiciary, no 
 organized department of foreign affairs, and no department 
 of interior administration. Congress was composed of but a 
 single House, and could not administer its own laws. Thus 
 the most ordinary obligations of government could not be 
 fulfilled. Everything was radically defective. What had 
 answered the purposes of the past could answer no longer. 
 Yet there was an evident want of harmony, an antagonism 
 of purpose ; every shade of feeling existed, and every variety 
 of opinion. Many there were, who had their supporters and 
 friends, gifted and able, ready to make every sacrifice, men 
 of immense intellectual resources and consummate genius, 
 and yet it was true what Thomas Jefferson wrote to Wash- 
 ington, " The confidence of the whole Union is centred in 
 you" And John Adams, when Vice-President, said officially 
 in the presence of the Senate, " Were I blessed with powers 
 to do justice to the character of Washington, it would be im- 
 possible to increase the confidence or affection of his country, 
 or make the smallest addition to his glory ! " All the more 
 to the credit of the people was the faith they cherished when 
 we recall the unquestionable excellence of the man. What 
 Jefferson had said was the instinctive conviction of all : 
 " His integrity was the most pure, his justice the most in- 
 flexible, I have ever known." 
 
 With this prevailing feeling in the public mind, when the 
 Convention came together and Washington was chosen its 
 presiding officer, all painful apprehension was removed, and 
 confidence established. To form a consolidated government 
 which should bind together thirteen independent republics, 
 in which each should be reasonably free, yet firmly united, 
 and in which might live a people self-governed with every 
 reasonable hope of continued peace and prosperit\ r ; where 
 order, security, and freedom might be firmly established, and 
 among foreign nations the country be universally recognized 
 as one of the leading powers of the world ; to accomplish a, 
 work like this, required a remarkable combination of qualities, 
 calm judgment, clear foresight, practical sense, and com- 
 prehensive wisdom. All these traits were more or less exem-
 
 56 
 
 plified throughout the deliberations by as able a body of men 
 as perhaps this country has ever seen brought together. The 
 session continued for four months, and the members were in 
 deliberation from five to seven hours each day. Thomas 
 Jefferson was at that time Ambassador in France, and John 
 Adams in England ; but Benjamin Franklin was there, over 
 eighty years of age, and James Madison, and Gouverneur 
 Morris, and John Jay, and many of the ablest men that 
 could be found in the country. 
 
 Their work did not consist in the transplanting of foreign 
 codes, and lifting over the sea of petrified forms and customs, 
 brought into use in a past age and under a different order 
 of things. With due reverence for the past, it accepted what 
 was wisest and best, honoring what had borne the test of 
 time and received the sanction of ages, yet blending all with 
 harmonious adaptations to the fresh wants of a new time. 
 Thus was it in many respects like a creation, adapted to an 
 untried order of things. By it a confederacy was exchanged 
 for a government, and a circle of individual states became a 
 nationality. During this eventful labor the presence and 
 approval of Washington was as important as all other things 
 combined, to strengthen and confirm the popular will. For 
 this, as much as for any one thing, do we owe Washington 
 lasting gratitude. 
 
 The Constitution of the United States was duly signed by 
 members of the Convention, and sent to the existing Con- 
 gress, by whom it was forwarded to the several States, with 
 the request that State conventions of the people should be 
 appointed for further deliberation, and that when a sufficient 
 number of States should signify their approval and accept- 
 ance, the Constitution should be adopted as the supreme law 
 of the land. These delegates, chosen by the people for the 
 express purpose of considering every principle in the pro- 
 posed Constitution, thoroughly fulfilled their work, after 
 which each State convention transmitted to Congress testi- 
 monials of the result at which they had arrived. And the 
 requisite number having fully testified their acceptance, in 
 1788, with the amendments which had been adopted, it
 
 57 
 
 became the acknowledged Constitution of the United States, 
 under which, at this moment, more than fifty millions of peo- 
 ple are enjoying the privileges of prosperity and freedom. 
 Many of the ablest minds in the country gave their best 
 ability to the perfecting of this work. Ample honor to each 
 one to whom gratitude is due, but no stinted tribute to him 
 to whom we all owe more than can be expressed ! 
 
 An important provision of the Constitution was the crea- 
 tion of an entirely new office of great responsibility. To this 
 office, as Chief Magistrate of the nation, was elected George 
 Washington. There was but one mind. No hesitation or 
 difference of opinion existed. He was the man who united 
 every heart, and who was chosen by acclamation. With 
 reluctance, personally, he accepted the position. He was 
 called to administer a new form of government under en- 
 tirely new circumstances ; to make direct application of 
 principles for the first time. All the various departments of 
 government were to be organized and put in action. One 
 of Washington's great faculties consisted in selecting the 
 right men for the right place, and in closely uniting with 
 himself the ablest minds in the country. He had said that 
 he could but promise " integrity, firmness, and an honest 
 zeal." These he brought, and much more. Through un- 
 ending responsibilities and conflicting opinions he held his 
 persistent course, ever faithful in the minutest particular, 
 unswayed by prejudice, unwavering in the cause of right, 
 with a broad comprehensiveness and unfailing wisdom. 
 
 At the earnest solicitation of the people, Washington was 
 persuaded to stand for a second term of the Presidency ; 
 making, at the close of his official service, an administration 
 of eight laborious years, full of solicitude and care, but 
 laden with every possible advantage to the country. 
 
 This immediately preceded the life of George B. Emerson. 
 It helped to create the time into which he entered. That 
 period was not only the precursor, but the providential season 
 of preparation for all which followed. The immortal words 
 of Washington's Farewell Address were yet warm in the air. 
 
 8
 
 58 
 
 On the last month of the eighteenth century (December, 
 1799), after a brief illness, Washington's earthl}' existence 
 ended. Throughout this country the sorrow was profound, 
 as had been the reverence and love which preceded it. It 
 seemed like the bereavement of children at the loss of an 
 honored parent. The grief was universal and overpowering ; 
 while all that was noble in that remarkable character, which 
 through fifty exciting years had held the attention of the 
 people, now seemed more exalted and inspiring than ever 
 before. Not only in our own Republic, but through distant 
 lands, was this event recognized. 
 
 Napoleon had just returned from Egypt, bringing with him 
 monuments of ancient art, as the trophies of his battles. 
 These spoils of war were unveiled with splendid ceremonies 
 in the Champ de Mars. Napoleon, as First Consul, issued 
 the following order to the army : " Washington is dead. 
 This great man fought against tyranny. He established the 
 liberty of his country. His memory will always be dear to 
 the French people, as it will be to all free men of the two 
 worlds." It was likewise ordered that black crape should 
 be suspended, for ten days, upon all standards and flags 
 throughout the Republic ; also, that a funeral oration be 
 delivered in honor of Washington. This service took place 
 in the HQtel des Invalides, at which the First Consul and 
 all the civil and military authorities were present. 
 
 At the same time the commander of the British fleet 
 ordered his flag at half-mast, in which the whole squadron, 
 numbering sixty ships of the line, united. Such are but indi- 
 cations of that public respect which was manifested on every 
 side. Rufus King, the American Minister in London, wrote 
 " No one who has not been in England can have a just idea 
 of the admiration expressed among all parties for General 
 Washington." Charles James Fox declared that " such a 
 character is hardly to be found upon the pages of history." 
 From every quarter of the globe came back expressions of 
 sympathy and sorrow. While this country, for which he had 
 faithfully labored, realized, even more deeply than during his 
 life, how much the whole people were under obligation to
 
 59 
 
 him, and that the debt of gratitude, now due to him, would 
 on\y accumulate through coming time. Death always gives 
 to what is done, and well done, an added sanctity ; and it was 
 peculiarly so here. The war for independence had been 
 fought and won ; a confederacy had given place to a nation- 
 ality ; a constitution had been considered, discussed, and 
 accepted. Two terms of the Presidency by the great leader 
 had been fully and successfully rounded and brought to a 
 fitting close; and now, as the result of all, we had a Republic, 
 not in disjointed fragments, but firmly established on solid 
 foundations, a perfect whole. 
 
 Over all this history could be traced a guiding Hand and 
 a providential care. At a time so momentous the career of 
 George B. Emerson commenced. The impressiveness of the 
 period continued for years to surround him. Many of the 
 great minds that had worked with Washington, were, in his 
 clay, yet living, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, James 
 Madison, Rufus King, Alexander Hamilton, John Jay, and 
 many more, all master minds, and some, even into advanced 
 age, still able to give encouragement and counsel. Mr. Em- 
 erson's younger days were in the midst of these influences. 
 He heard with intense earnestness the statements of those 
 who had been personally acquainted with Washington, as 
 they recounted their trials and hardships in the camp, and 
 their struggles on the field of battle ; how they were with 
 Washington when he turned back the tide of defeat at Mon- 
 mouth, and when he suddenly broke in upon the enemy's 
 forces on the Delaware ; how, wherever he was, he showed 
 intrepidity, skill, patience, and, under every circumstance, 
 unflinching courage. While he eagerly listened, more and 
 more sacred became the associations connected with that 
 wonderful life. As years passed on, a feeling of religious 
 fervor gathered about the recollections of that time, while, as 
 his faculties expanded, he studied, with ever-increasing en- 
 thusiasm, the grandeur of a character so closely identified 
 with his country's history. 
 
 It is related of Washington Irving that while he was yet 
 a child, his nurse, in the city of New York, took him out
 
 60 
 
 for a walk, and that, meeting General Washington, she ap- 
 proached him, saying, " May it please your Honor, this child 
 was named for you." The General paused, laid his hand 
 upon the child's head, and gave him his blessing. " The 
 gentle pressure of that hand," writes William C. Bryant, 
 ** Irving always remembered ; and that blessing, Irving be- 
 lieved, attended him through life." " Who shall say," he 
 adds, " what power that recollection may have had in keeping 
 him true to high and generous aims ? " 
 
 There is no tradition that Washington actually laid his 
 hand upon the head of George B. Emerson, but it is per- 
 haps not claiming too much to affirm that his blessing did 
 rest there. Who could contemplate such a character and not 
 feel quickened and inspired by its influence ? The principles 
 which, abstractly considered, he most liked, he found em- 
 bodied in Washington, as a living whole, calmness and 
 resolution, prudence and fortitude, modesty blended with 
 self-reliance, courage that could face every danger, with a 
 perseverance before which hardships and privations melted 
 away ; while, in that remarkable man, these characteristics 
 were blended with a pervading and all-controlling wisdom, 
 and subordinated to the noblest qualities, love of country, 
 fidelity to conscience, manly integrity, devotion to duty, and, 
 under every circumstance, the recognition of a Power higher 
 than this world, a divine Arbiter who overrules all human 
 events. 
 
 Such was the character which, alike in war and in peace, 
 won the love and the confidence of the whole people. It 
 was this which drew so many towards itself with magnetic 
 power, and which, through all changes, secured the truest 
 welfare of the nation; and only by the dissemination of such 
 qualities can the best welfare of the nation be perpetuated. 
 Thus was it that Washington became a world-wide benefactor ; 
 and the nearer his countrymen shall follow him, the more truly 
 will they become benefactors also. By this has he left a name 
 to remain untarnished to the end of time; and thus alone can 
 we possess a character which may bear the severest scrutiny, 
 and stand the test both of this life and of the life to come.
 
 61 
 
 All that had thus far been accomplished, was but the intro- 
 duction to what must follow. The wide recognition of popu- 
 lar rights implied corresponding responsibilities and duties. 
 By the neglect of such duties on the part of the people may 
 be brought about " the ruin " (such were the words of 
 Washington), "the ruin of the goodly fabric we have been 
 erecting; and thus the fairest prospect of happiness and 
 prosperity that ever was presented to man will be lost, 
 perhaps forever." 
 
 " I am persuaded," continues Washington, " that you will 
 agree with me in opinion, that there is nothing which can 
 better deserve your patronage than the promotion of science 
 and literature. Knowledge is, in every country, the surest 
 basis of public happiness. In a country in which the meas- 
 ures of government receive their impression so immediately 
 from the sense of the community as in ours, it is propor- 
 tionably essential ; to the security of a free constitution it 
 contributes in various ways, by convincing those who are 
 intrusted with the public administration that every valuable 
 end of government is best answered by the enlightened con- 
 fidence of the people, and by teaching the people themselves 
 to know and to value their own rights." 
 
 In view of that possible future rising before his own 
 contemplation, he writes: "It is universally acknowledged 
 that the enlarged prospects of happiness, opened by the con- 
 firmation of our independence and sovereignty, almost ex- 
 ceed the power of description." " Heaven " he adds, " has 
 crowned all its other blessings by giving a surer opportunity 
 for political happiness than any other nation has ever been 
 favored with." But then the proportional responsibilities 
 are recognized, and the only true basis of lasting welfare. 
 tk There is no truth more thoroughly established " (this is 
 his language) " than that there exists in the economy and 
 course of nature an indissoluble union between virtue and 
 happiness, between duty and advantage, between the genuine 
 maxims of an honest and magnanimous policy and the solid 
 rewards of public prosperity and felicity." " The propitious 
 smiles of Heaven," he continues, " can never be expected on
 
 62 
 
 a nation that disregards those eternal rules of order and right 
 which Heaven itself has ordained." And the consequences 
 of our neglect or fidelity, not only to ourselves and to 
 coming generations here, but to the whole world, he thus 
 emphatically pronounces : " The preservation of the sacred 
 fire of liberty, and the destiny of the republican model of 
 government, are justly considered as deeply, perhaps as 
 finally, staked on the experiment intrusted to the hands of 
 the American people." 
 
 The happy conjuncture of times and circumstances under 
 which this Republic assumed its rank among the nations is 
 thus forcibly presented by Washington in the Circular Letter 
 which he addressed to the Governors of the several States in 
 1783 : " The foundation of our empire was not laid in a 
 gloomy age of ignorance and superstition, but at an epoch 
 when the rights of mankind were better understood, and 
 more clearly defined than at any former period ; researches 
 of the human mind after social happiness have been carried 
 to a great extent ; the treasures of knowledge, acquired by 
 the labors of philosophers, sages, and legislators through a 
 long succession of years, are laid open for us, and their col- 
 lected wisdom may be happily applied in the establishment 
 of our forms of government ; the free cultivation of letters, 
 the unbounded extension of commerce, the progressive re- 
 finement of manners, the growing liberality of sentiment, and, 
 above all, the pure and benign light of revelation, have had a 
 meliorating influence on mankind, and increased the blessings 
 of society." And then, pausing, he adds : " At this aus- 
 picious period the United States came into existence as a 
 nation ; and if their citizens should not be completely free 
 and happ}% the fault will be entirely their own." 
 
 Washington was too true to himself and his country not to 
 mingle with his congratulations admonitions and warnings. 
 " Such," he said, " is our situation, and such are our pros- 
 pects. But, notwithstanding the cup of blessing is thus 
 reached out to us, if we have the disposition to make it our 
 own ; yet it appears to me, there is an option still left to the 
 United States of America, whether they will be respectable
 
 63 
 
 and prosperous, or contemptible and miserable as a nation." 
 Privileges, with him, implied duties. All that the patriots of 
 the Revolution had done, all that the fathers of the Republic 
 had written, must bequeath to their successors corresponding 
 responsibilities. But blessed will those be who prove true 
 and faithful. " Happy " (such were Washington's words), 
 " thrice happy shall they be pronounced hereafter, who have 
 contributed anything, who have performed the meanest office, 
 in erecting this stupendous fabric of freedom and empire, on 
 the broad basis of independency; who have assisted in protect- 
 ing the rights of human nature, and establishing an asylum 
 for the poor and oppressed of all nations." 
 
 The scholar earnestly responded. A patriotism was kin- 
 dled in his heart which never became extinguished. All 
 the finer instincts of his nature moved in unison. His ideas 
 of duty and of right pointed in one direction. What did 
 such a government as this presuppose, if not intelligence, 
 improvement, progress ? Here was a new condition of civil 
 society, an advanced form of social organization. Was it 
 intended for a stupid and stolid, a mean and mercenary 
 people? or did it imply growth and expansion, the develop- 
 ing of resources, not simply in connection with material 
 wealth, but of intellectual capabilities, of whatever affected 
 human thought and feeling, or touched the inmost springs 
 of character? More and more deeply did he feel that our 
 institutions, civil, moral, and religious, are based upon intel- 
 ligence. His readings of the past, his hopes of the future, 
 strengthened his conviction that to render men properly 
 capable of self-government, implies culture, the power of 
 thought, the development of the nobler faculties. There 
 is a susceptibility of goodness which may be brought into 
 action if properly appealed to ; there are capacities only 
 waiting the right moment to unfold; truths to be investi- 
 gated, and duties to be performed ; but the mind requires 
 a true impulse and a right direction. Mr. Emerson resolved 
 to devote his whole life to the education of the people ; to 
 aid in the right development of their intellectual and moral
 
 64 
 
 life ; as far as might be in his power, to disseminate that 
 intelligence which is absolutely essential to the well-being of 
 a republic ; and thus, to the very extent of his ability, to 
 lay a worthy foundation for whatever would most truly 
 promote the highest welfare of his country.
 
 GROWTH OF THE COUNTRY. 
 
 THE growth of the country during Mr. Emerson's life- 
 time is worthy of special notice. 
 
 The thirteen original States were all east of the Alleghany 
 Mountains. Nowhere, as British colonies, did they reach into 
 the interior more than one hundred miles from the Atlantic. 
 Beyond that was a wilderness, peopled almost wholly by 
 savage tribes. 
 
 The French insisted that the entire region was theirs. 
 French and English alike put in their conflicting claims; 
 while the former were taking decided steps to secure and sus- 
 tain their position. They were drawing their lines more and 
 more closely, until their movements were too palpable to be 
 passed over in silence, and the manifest encroachment could 
 not continue to be wholly overlooked. 
 
 Only about forty years before Mr. Emerson's birth, Wash- 
 ington had been commissioned to penetrate into that region 
 where the French were attempting to build a succession of 
 forts which should form a line of military posts to connect 
 Louisiana with Canada. He was to remonstrate against this 
 measure ; and his instructions were to make himself acquainted 
 with the character of the country. This journey to the Ohio 
 was a laborious effort of three months, through unhewn for- 
 ests, occupied by hostile Indian tribes. The French declared 
 that Father Marquette had passed down the Mississippi in 
 a canoe, while La Salle, in his wanderings, had seen the 
 Ohio and Illinois, and that this gave to their country a title 
 to all the lands between the Alleghany and the Rocky Moun- 
 tains ; on the other hand, the Indians claimed that, as the 
 native occupants, the soil by right belonged to them. " It is 
 
 9
 
 66 
 
 ours," they said, "and you wish to steal it from us." This 
 contest was the commencement of that struggle which finally 
 ended in the independence of the United Colonies. Wash- 
 ington's commission was to proceed to the Ohio River, con- 
 vene there the Indian chiefs, and secure an escort of warriors 
 to be his guides through the rest of his journey. It was alto- 
 gether a perilous enterprise. But our principal purpose now 
 is to speak of the wild and unsubdued character of the coun- 
 try. With their horses they were obliged to swim the rivers ; 
 or cross, as they best might, upon rude rafts. The tangled 
 forests were almost impenetrable, and nowhere was the first 
 sign of cultivation to be seen. 
 
 A few years passed by, and, with the establishment of the 
 Republic on the basis of freedom, the progress of civilization 
 took a fresh start. The tide of population moved ceaselessly 
 onward, and with that population, industry, culture, together. 
 with all the multiplied fruits of enterprise and skill. In due 
 time the fertile region bordering the waters of the Mononga- 
 hela and the Ohio became an important part of the Union ; 
 and presently, by rapid expansion, the whole rich valley of the 
 Mississippi, larger in itself than many of the empires of Europe, 
 was included ; comprising an area of 2,455,000 square miles, 
 and extending through at least thirty degrees of longitude, 
 a realm which De Tocqueville declares to be "the most 
 magnificent dwelling-place prepared by God for man's abode," 
 and of which Benjamin Franklin, with prophetic foresight, 
 pronounced, " In less than a century it must undoubtedly 
 become a populous and powerful dominion." 
 
 Exactly ten years before Mr. Emerson's birth, the great Or- 
 dinance for the Government of the Northwestern Territory 
 was passed (1787), which included all the region northwest 
 of the Ohio. This was wholly, at that time, an unreclaimed 
 wilderness. By this Ordinance the entire territory was irrev- 
 ocably dedicated to free labor. Out of this region were formed 
 the five great States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, and 
 Wisconsin. Mr. Emerson witnessed the result of this wise act 
 of statesmanship, in the unparalleled growth and prosperity 
 which followed. Within his day those States had an industri-
 
 67 
 
 ous, intelligent, and thrifty population of over seven millions. 
 And if we include Iowa, Minnesota, Missouri, and Kansas, \ve 
 have a population of over twelve millions, with a fertility of 
 soil which yields annually an amount of agricultural products 
 absolutely amazing, together with a network of railroads 
 which brings a market everywhere closely at hand. The 
 State of Ohio covers an area of 40,000 square miles ; Indi- 
 ana, 33,809; Illinois, 55,405; Michigan, 56,243; Wisconsin, 
 53,924 ; Iowa, 55,045 ; Minnesota, 83,530 ; Missouri, 67,380 ; 
 and Kansas, 83,000. 
 
 As a proof of Mr. Emerson's interest in this new region, 
 and the growth and extension of the country, the very year 
 following the completion of the Pacific and Union Railroad, 
 in his seventy-third year, he went over the whole road to the 
 shores of the Pacific. He thus travelled 367 miles through 
 Iowa, 473 through Nebraska, 487 through Wyoming, 221 
 through Utah, 455 through Nevada, and about 300 through 
 California. 
 
 When he was forty years of age, the first house had not 
 been built in San Francisco; when he arrived there, he found 
 140,000 inhabitants, and an area of over 30,000 acres, covered 
 with churches, schools, and colleges ; scientific and literary 
 institutions, hotels and hospitals, libraries and reading-rooms, 
 markets and manufactories, with extensive public grounds 
 and parks. The assessed valuation of propert)' was about 
 $100,000,000. There were from seventeen to eighteen 
 thousand buildings, many of which were spacious and elegant. 
 More than a thousand edifices had been erected within the 
 preceding year. The United States Mint has an important 
 branch in this city, where the gold and silver from the mines 
 is turned out as coin. This was established in 1854. When 
 Mr. Emerson was there, it had coined $240,000,000. Bags 
 and packages of gold dust, from thousands of miners, are 
 scattered round. Packages of bullion are sent on deposit; and 
 here are the crucibles in which the precious metals are melted, 
 and from which they are ladled out, while the shining coins 
 fresh from the stamp, are weighed and sorted; only now 
 waiting to be scattered through the community.
 
 68 
 
 Richard H. Dana, Jr., visited the Pacific coast in the ship 
 "Alert" (1835-36). At that time, in his "Two Years before 
 the Mast," he speaks of entering " the vast solitude of the Bay 
 of San Francisco," while of the shore he says, it is a lonely 
 and sandy plain without a dwelling. During the whole time 
 of their stay not a sail came or went ; and only one vessel, a 
 Russian, lay there at anchor. Now, connected with the popu- 
 lous city are extensive and unsurpassed accommodations for 
 shipping ; while between two and three thousand vessels 
 arrive from foreign lands within the year ; and ships are con- 
 stantly sailing, with their various freightage, to every part 
 of the world ; the grain shipments alone amounting to over 
 $13,000,000 annually. 
 
 But with all this wonderful development, few things could 
 impress Mr. Emerson more than the extraordinary aspects of 
 nature ; with his love for flowers and plants, how could he 
 but be impressed by the tropical fertility so profusely dis- 
 played? The earth everywhere seemed but sand; yet all it 
 needed was water to cause it to burst forth into forms of con- 
 summate luxuriance and beauty. The fruits were large and 
 luscious, the flowers numberless and superb. The fuchsias 
 expanded beyond reach; the heliotrope became a lofty shrub; 
 the rose, of colossal size, looked in at the upper windows; 
 delicate vines, gorgeous with blossoms, veiled the houses ; 
 geraniums of deepest scarlet, kindled like a flame, forming 
 screens and hedges. The size, the richness, the profusion, 
 seemed fabulous. With ample irrigation all things appeared 
 possible ; the very sand became prolific of splendor. Not for 
 a brief season, but, thus cared for, through the whole year, 
 they grow and blossom. Then the trees the madrona, 
 the manzanita, and a thousand others were so strangely 
 beautiful. But we must not dwell upon the fascinating 
 aspects of this Pacific coast, extending its seven hundred 
 miles along the ocean, and its two hundred miles of width, 
 with its two ranges of noble mountains, its marvellous forests, 
 and its untold treasures of mineral and agricultural wealth. 
 
 North of California are Oregon and Washington Terri- 
 tory, with Montana and Idaho, a country which, in Mr.
 
 69 
 
 Emerson's boyhood, was inhabited wholly by Indian tribes, 
 with their uncertain and roving life. He lived to see this 
 entire region become an important part of the Union. It 
 shows what rapid strides were taken within the limits of a 
 single lifetime. 
 
 In 1787, exactly ten years before Mr. Emerson's birth, at 
 a mansion in Bowdoin Square, Boston, within a stone's 
 throw of the spot where Mr. Emerson for many years success- 
 fully taught school, were several gentlemen, among whom 
 was Dr. Bulfiuch, father of Thomas Bulfinch, Mr. Emerson's 
 most intimate friend. The conversation turned upon the 
 recent voyages and discoveries of Captain Cook, and upon 
 John Ledyard, who was a native of New England, and whose 
 first boat adventure was on the Connecticut River. Remarks 
 were made upon Captain Cook's statement respecting the 
 valuable furs to be obtained from the Indians in exchange 
 for trifling commodities. "A rich harvest there," they ex- 
 claimed, " for those who shall have the spirit to secure it ! " 
 This led soon after to practical results. An expedition was 
 arranged, and two vessels were properly equipped for that 
 long voyage round Cape Horn and along the Northwest 
 coast. One vessel was named the "Columbia," and was 
 commanded by Captain Robert Gray. From this voyage 
 there was a safe return, and in 1790 the same vessel and 
 captain left Boston for a second adventure. On this voyage 
 they had the good fortune to discover a harbor far up the 
 coast, to which was given the name of Bulfinch Harbor, and 
 another which they called Gray's Harbor ; and a great river, 
 by far the most important upon the whole Pacific coast, the 
 immense value of which, even to this da}', may not be fully 
 estimated. Captain Gray with his good ship entered the 
 mouth of this river, all sails set, going up some twenty miles, 
 trading with the natives and filling his casks with fresh water. 
 To this river he gave the name of his ship, the " Columbia," 
 the name by which it is now known over the whole world. 
 This discovery, together with other facts, established the 
 claim of the United States to that part of the continent. A 
 large number of vessels, especially from Boston, carried on
 
 70 
 
 from that date a constant traffic with this coast. While 
 Thomas Jefferson was Minister from the United States at 
 the Court of France, he often met John Ledyard, and listened 
 to the accounts of his experiences with Captain Cook along the 
 Northwest coast. Mr. Jefferson became deeply impressed, 
 through the information imparted, with the importance of 
 that region to this country. When he became President he 
 brought the subject before Congress, and gained the appoint- 
 ment of an overland expedition, which embraced the ascent 
 of the Missouri and the descent of the Columbia to the shore 
 of the Pacific. This was proposed to Congress in 1803, and 
 in 1804 the explorers commenced their route. A most inter- 
 esting account of their whole journey was published. They 
 demonstrated the feasibility of a direct communication from 
 the Atlantic to the Pacific, and showed conclusively that 
 what had been pronounced as a hopeless desert might to a 
 great degree, by proper cultivation, be made to wave with 
 corn, barley, and wheat; while much that seemed desolate 
 was rich in mineral wealth. The Columbia River alone was 
 found to drain a basin of four hundred thousand square miles. 
 It may readily be used by large vessels through three hundred 
 miles, and is navigable for barques and barges over seven 
 hundred miles. 
 
 The first American settlement on the Columbia was on the 
 south side, about eight miles from its mouth. It bore the 
 name of Astoria, after John Jacob Astor, of New York, who 
 was interested in the fur trade. His purpose was to establish 
 a line of trading-posts, Astoria forming the central mart. 
 Furs obtained here from the natives were to be exchanged 
 for valuable commodities at Canton, which were destined, in 
 their turn, for the Atlantic States. It was a great enterprise. 
 Mr. Astor offered, if protected by the Government, to turn 
 the whole of this trade into American channels. Mr. Jeffer- 
 son, in a letter to Mr. Astor, writes : " I consider the com- 
 mencement of a settlement on that point of the western coast 
 of America, as a great acquisition, and look forward with 
 gratification to the time when the descendants of those who 
 now become established there, shall have spread themselves 
 through the whole length of that coast." The history of this
 
 71 
 
 enterprise reads like a romance, and has been depicted with 
 graphic power by Washington Irving. Controversies ex- 
 tended through many years respecting the boundary line 
 between us and the British Territories ; but Mr. Emerson 
 lived to see the forty-ninth parallel of north latitude declared 
 by treaty to be the true northern boundary of the United 
 States, running upon this parallel to the middle of the 
 channel which separates the continent from Vancouver's 
 Island. Then followed a difference of opinion as to exactly 
 where was the middle of the channel into the Pacific, a subject 
 of actual importance, including a breadth of fifty miles, and 
 a length of sixty miles before reaching the ocean ; covering a 
 space of 3,000 square miles, and numbering no less than forty 
 islands. The final decision upon this question was mutually 
 referred, May 8, 1871, to his Majesty, the Emperor of Ger- 
 many, from whose decision there was to be no appeal. And 
 on the 21st of October, 1872, after thorough examination, the 
 Imperial great seal, with the Emperor's autograph, was placed 
 upon parchment at Berlin ; and the Haro Channel (the same 
 for which the Government of the United States had con- 
 tended) was fixed upon as the true line. 
 
 Since this decision, conflicting views have ceased, and 
 harmony prevails; while Oregon and Washington Terri- 
 tory, together with Idaho and Montana, have become an 
 acknowledged part of the Republic. Washington Territory 
 measures 250 miles by 360, making an area of 70,000 square 
 miles, with a population of 110,000 ; Oregon, 275 miles by 
 350, making an area of 95,274 square miles, with a popula- 
 tion of 225,000 ; while in both are schools and academies 
 and colleges, and an earnest determination to place within 
 the reach of all the privileges of a good education. Idaho has 
 an area of 99,932 square miles, with immense mineral wealth. 
 Gold abounds ; over thirty quartz mills are in operation, and 
 in 1868 it had sent $14,000,000 in gold to the United States 
 Mint. Montana has an area of 143,776 square miles, and has 
 the honor of including within itself the source of both the 
 Missouri and the Columbia Rivers, one flowing west and 
 the other east, thus uniting the Atlantic and the Pacific. It 
 has a population of over 60,000. While its valleys are fertile,
 
 72 
 
 its hills teem with mineral wealth. The product of its gold 
 mines is authoritatively reported as amounting to 820,000,000 
 per j'ear. Silver, coal, lead, copper, are also found in great 
 profusion. It has a thoroughly good school system, and a 
 superintendent of public instruction. 
 
 All this region, once so distant, has been brought as to 
 our very door by the Northern Pacific Railroad. This great 
 line of continental intercommunication properly commences 
 at St. Paul. The East has various lines reaching thus far. 
 Now from thence, by its main line and branches, the Northern 
 Pacific operates over three thousand miles, putting its con- 
 nected belt of road across the American continent and only 
 stopping with the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 St. Paul itself, at the head of steamboat navigation on the 
 Mississippi, is two thousand miles from its mouth, and stands 
 midway between the two oceans. Thirty-four years ago this 
 now flourishing city had not so much as a name upon the 
 map. In 1881 it did a wholesale business of $51,000,000. 
 
 Not long since, from thence to the mouth of the Columbia 
 would have been a most tedious and dangerous journey, 
 through the midst of savage Indian tribes, with no footpath 
 marked out by man, with no asylum for safety and no roof 
 for shelter; day after day, and week after week, through 
 what might have seemed interminable forests and drifting 
 sands and precipitous rocks. Now, incredible as it may seem, 
 one can pass across the whole continent in a Pullman palace 
 car, with as much comfort and luxury as if he were seated in 
 the Brunswick or the Fifth Avenue Hotel; and, arriving at 
 the mouth of the Columbia, may send a message by telegraph 
 which shall reach the friends at home in a few moments, 
 telling of his safe arrival, to which he may add, if he pleases, 
 the latest news from Alaska and Japan ! 
 
 It was the declaration of Edmund Burke, in the British 
 Parliament in 1775, in speaking of the unprecedented growth 
 of the colonies, even up to that date : " Your children do 
 not grow faster from infancy to manhood than they [of the 
 colonies] spread from families to communities and from vil- 
 lages to nations." What would he have said, could he have 
 witnessed the growth of the succeeding century ?
 
 73 
 
 Yet did he distinctly perceive the principles at work, and 
 had a most vivid consciousness of the coming result. Wash- 
 ington in his Inaugural Address spoke of the overruling 
 Power which throughout its past career had led this nation 
 on, a guidance which he recognized in all the events of his 
 life. "No people" (such were his words), "no people 
 can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible Hand 
 which conducts the affairs of men, more than the people of 
 the United States." These words, uttered in 1789, are 
 equally true to-day. The same Hand continues to lead, 
 and the same Providence to bless. 
 
 Let us take a General Survey of the rapid growth and 
 increasing prosperity of this country during Mr. Emerson's 
 lifetime, that is, from 1797 to 1881. 
 
 In his youth the area of Territory in the United States 
 was 1,000,000 square miles; in 1881 there were 3,602,990 
 square miles, making, within his memory, an actual increase 
 of 2,602,990 square miles. 
 
 When he was first counted as one of the Population of the 
 United States, there were five millions of people ; before his 
 death the number had increased to fifty-one millions, mak- 
 ing, within his experience, an increase of forty-six millions. 
 
 In the way of Manufactures, in 1800 (when Emerson was 
 three years of age), the manufactured products of the United 
 States were valued at fifty million dollars; in 1880 (when 
 he was in his eighty-third year), he had seen an increase of 
 about six billion dollars. 
 
 In addition to this increase in manufactured fabrics of six 
 billions, there was a valuation of Agricultural products of over 
 two billion dollars. 
 
 The Export of domestic products in 1800 was forty millions; 
 and in 1881 it had risen to nearly nine hundred millions. All 
 will readily admit that this is a most remarkable increase in 
 the territory, population, manufactures, agricultural products 
 and exportations of one country within the circle of a single 
 life. 
 
 10
 
 RAILROADS. 
 
 THROUGH Mr. Emerson's youthful days the present marvel- 
 lous means of intercommunication, by which distant sections 
 of the country and of the world are now brought together, 
 had no existence. What would have then been the fatiguing 
 journey of a week, can now, as we all know, be readily ac- 
 complished with perfect ease in a few hours. The changes 
 thus produced, socially and commercially, are almost beyond 
 comprehension. 
 
 When Mr. Emerson was twenty years of age, not one rail- 
 road existed throughout all Europe. Now into what part of 
 Europe can we look and not find railroads ? Various rude 
 experiments had indeed been made at a somewhat earlier 
 date, principal!}' for the transit of coal, in Durham and 
 Northumberland. Upon this basis various improvements 
 were introduced, which at length resulted in a railroad, prop- 
 erly so called. The earliest of these roads was formally 
 opened between Liverpool and Manchester in 1830. This 
 may be counted the true inauguration of the great railway 
 system, at which time Mr. Emerson was thirty-three years of 
 age. Within twenty years, in Great Britain alone, more than 
 five hundred million dollars had been thus invested. The 
 first railroads out of Great Britain were commenced in Bel- 
 gium ; after this they were introduced into France, Italy, 
 Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Switzerland, and now exist on 
 an extended scale in Spain, Russia, India, China, Africa, 
 until in fact they form a network over the whole globe. 
 
 Mr. Emerson distinctly remembered the first introduction 
 of these roads into this country. In 1830 he saw the earliest 
 railroad on this continent, about twenty miles in length, 
 which was looked upon as a curiosity. The rapid increase
 
 75 
 
 of railroads in the United States may be seen by the fol- 
 lowing statement, giving the number of miles in operation 
 through each successive five years,, from 1835 to 1882 : 
 
 In 1830 
 
 the number 
 
 of miles 
 
 in operation 
 
 was 20 
 
 " 1835 
 
 u 
 
 
 
 <( 
 
 1,098 
 
 1840 
 
 a 
 
 u 
 
 M 
 
 2,818 
 
 1845 
 
 M 
 
 u 
 
 M 
 
 4,633 
 
 " 1850 
 
 (( 
 
 u 
 
 tt 
 
 9,021 
 
 " 1855 
 
 
 
 u 
 
 It 
 
 18,374 
 
 " 1860 
 
 U 
 
 tt 
 
 n 
 
 30,635 
 
 " 1865 
 
 U 
 
 u 
 
 U 
 
 35,085 
 
 " 1870 
 
 M 
 
 tt 
 
 It 
 
 52,914 
 
 1875 
 
 a 
 
 tt 
 
 
 
 74,096 
 
 1880 
 
 u 
 
 u 
 
 U 
 
 93,671 
 
 " 1881 
 
 u 
 
 tl 
 
 It 
 
 104,813 
 
 " 1882 
 
 a 
 
 tl 
 
 tl 
 
 113,329 
 
 During the last ten years of Mr. Emerson's life over fifty 
 thousand miles of railroad were built. That which was once 
 considered a visionary scheme had become a practical method 
 of transportation in, what may well be called, universal use. 
 If the same rate of construction continues, there will be, in 
 1890, over two hundred thousand miles of road in this coun- 
 try in full operation, extending from the Gulf of St. Law- 
 rence to the Gulf of Mexico, including three distinct lines 
 uniting the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 The earnings of the railroads in the country during the 
 past year equalled $725,325,119, an increase over the pre- 
 vious year of 8110,000,000. The net earnings of the roads 
 were, 8276.654,119, an increase of $21,500,000 over the earn- 
 ings of 1880. The cost of operating the roads for the year 
 was $449,565,071. The total amount expended in the con- 
 struction of new lines, and in operating and improving old 
 roads, was over $750,000,000 ; the greater part of this vast 
 sum being paid in wages. 
 
 The number of persons employed in operating the roads 
 was 1,200,000 ; the number employed in the construction of 
 our railroads equalled 400,000, making the whole number 
 1,600,000.
 
 76 
 
 The tonnage transported over all the roads in the country 
 in 1881 was not less than 350,000,000,000 tons. The valua- 
 tion of the tonnage moved on all the railroads of the United 
 States was estimated at $12,000,000,000. As an evidence of 
 the rapid progress of the railroad tonnage of the country, it 
 may be stated that the tonnage of all the railroads in the 
 United States in 1851 did not exceed 5,000,000 tons, an in- 
 crease in thirty years of 349,995,000,000 tons. Thirty years 
 ago the tonnage did not equal one half the present annual 
 tonnage of the Erie and New York Central Railroad. The 
 value of tonnage in 1851 did not exceed $250,000,000, while 
 the tonnage in 1881 was $12,000,000,000. The total number 
 of passengers transported during 1882 (not including the 
 New York elevated railroads) was 289,190,723. The total 
 movement of all the railroads, in 1882, equalled 6,834,048,765 
 persons. The total movement of all the railroads, in 1882, 
 equalled 39,302,209,249 tons. The value of net tonnage was, 
 say, $15,000,000,000. 
 
 These roads have made what was once distant near, and 
 have caused a people scattered over remote spaces to become 
 as one family. Indeed, in these latter days there seems no 
 such thing as distance. Thackeray declares, " we no lon- 
 ger travel, we only arrive" The producer finds his market, 
 though it were thousands of miles away, as if it were at his 
 next door ; and friends separated by zones and climates may 
 almost pass their social evenings together. The results are 
 more than financial. The material resources of the country 
 by this instrumentality have been immeasurably developed ; 
 but beyond this are subtle influences, largely affecting mind 
 and heart, which may, in the end, become a supreme good.
 
 STEAM NAVIGATION. 
 
 MR. EMERSON was a lad ten years of age when Fnlton 
 launched his first steam vessel on the Hudson, and he might 
 have been on board the boat, in company with Fulton, as he 
 made that memorable voyage from New York to Albany, a 
 distance of one hundred and forty-five miles against wind 
 and tide, in twenty-four hours. Fulton, with indomitable 
 will, through years of trial, had overcome one obstacle after 
 another, until now the utility of this new method of naviga- 
 tion was fully demonstrated. 
 
 Within five years of that time Fulton built at Pittsburg 
 the first steamer to ply upon the Mississippi. On being con- 
 gratulated upon what he had accomplished on the Hudson, 
 this illustrious inventor said to Judge Story: "My ultimate 
 triumph will be on the Mississippi. I know that steamboat 
 navigation on that river is deemed impossible by many ; but I 
 am confident of success." That prediction was fulfilled ; and 
 an entire change was thus wrought in the internal navigation 
 of the country, extending speedily to all its navigable rivers 
 and lakes. Mr. Emerson lived to see the old sj^stem of ship- 
 ping completely revolutionized. Watching with habitual 
 interest the application of science to the practical business of 
 life, he counted this one of its most brilliant triumphs. Ves- 
 sels propelled by steam were soon employed both by domestic 
 and foreign commerce. The most distant countries of the 
 world were brought into close connection. Even in the naval 
 service old ships of the line were displaced by steamers, while 
 unexampled facilities of intercommunication were offered on 
 river and lake and ocean, for travel and traffic over the 
 entire globe.
 
 THE TELEGEAPH. 
 
 THE fellow-worker with the railroad is the electric tele- 
 graph. When Mr. Emerson was forty-seven years of age, the 
 first line of electric telegraph on this continent was laid 
 between Baltimore and Washington. This was under the 
 superintendence of Professor Morse, who was six years Mr. 
 Emerson's senior. Thirty years previous to this, Morse, with 
 the intention of being a portrait painter, was an art student 
 under Benjamin West. Mr. Emerson lived to see the name 
 of Morse identified with the recording telegraph, under whose 
 influence it extended itself over the whole globe. 
 
 Mr. Cornell was at the same time (1844), working with his 
 wheel-barrow, as a day laborer, in the employment of Mr. 
 Morse, to whom he imparted valuable suggestions, which by 
 their adoption rendered the line more perfect. Mr. Cornell 
 has, since that time, established the University that bears his 
 name ; and this -is but one of his many munificent gifts for 
 the benefit of his country. 
 
 The electric telegraph in this country, before Mr. Emer- 
 son's death, covered not less than fifty thousand miles. The 
 number of messages passing annually over the wires was 
 estimated at five million, from which a revenue was received 
 of more than two million dollars per annum ; while, in addi- 
 tion to this, the press paid at least two hundred thousand 
 dollars for public despatches. But far beyond this is the 
 present extension of the electric telegraph, stretching, as it 
 now does, over the cities and villages of the whole continent, 
 spanning its plains and climbing its mountains, it being now 
 considered everywhere as an essential requisite in business,
 
 79 
 
 commerce and traffic in all their branches having become 
 more and more dependent upon it. 
 
 Thus did Mr. Emerson find it, when at the age of seventy- 
 three he followed the electric wire from the Atlantic to the 
 Pacific, one thousand miles from Boston to Chicago ; then 
 i from Chicago to Omaha, five hundred miles; thence over the 
 inclined plain, five hundred miles more, to Cheyenne, at the 
 foot of the Rocky Mountains; still upward to Sherman, eight 
 thousand four hundred and twenty-four, feet above the ocean. 
 After this was Laramie, and Echo and Webber Canon, and 
 yet onward over the alkali plains, one thousand miles more. 
 At times there were treeless deserts and plains of barren sand ; 
 at times, towering rocks worn into fantastic shapes by the 
 storms of ages ; and again, richest verdure and flowers. Now 
 there were opening vistas stretching away far as the eye could 
 reach; and now, elevations higher than St. Bernard, the lofti- 
 est inhabited spot in Europe. 
 
 During this whole journey, taken, as we have said, when 
 Mr. Emerson was beyond his threescore years and ten, he 
 found the iron thread at every point, bearing its messages 
 with the swiftness of light along the valleys and over the 
 highest summits of the mountains. Not yet had he reached 
 his place of destination; still onward he passed, by the Hum- 
 boldt River, and the mysterious gorge where the waters of 
 that river vanish ; then far awa} 7 over the Sierra Nevada, and 
 down the western slope to San Francisco ; and not once over 
 all this distance, from Plymouth Rock to the Golden Gate, 
 had the continuity of the wire been broken. Well might he 
 exclaim, with the Psalmist, "' Their line is gone out through 
 all the earth, and their words to the end of the world ! " 
 
 The writer dwells with the greater pleasure upon Mr. Emer- 
 son's journey over the Central Pacific Railroad, because, in the 
 spring of the same year (1870), it was his good fortune to 
 pass over this road. Having in Europe participated with him 
 in some of the rare advantages there offered, by a singular 
 coincidence the year 1870 found us both in California. 
 
 This Central Pacific road is throughout a marvel of civil 
 engineering. It has triumphed over difficulties which might
 
 80 
 
 well have appeared impossible for human power to surmount. 
 Even where the way was most level, wood and water and 
 all essential materials had to be brought from great distances, 
 while frequently there were trackless deserts and ragged 
 mountains, deep gorges and stupendous cliffs. In places 
 enormous ravines were spanned by intricate trestle-work. 
 Elsewhere passages were drilled through solid rock. Some of 
 these tunnels are two thousand feet in length, perforating one 
 mass of granite. There are at least fifteen of these tunnels 
 upon the line, covering in all more than six thousand feet. 
 The track going west ascends twenty-five hundred feet in fifty 
 miles, and descends six thousand feet in seventy-five miles. 
 A million dollars was expended in powder for the purpose of 
 blasting ; in numerous places powder was found not to be 
 sufficiently powerful, arid glycerine was used. Over a million 
 dollars more was expended in building a bridge three thousand 
 feet in length. While the road was in process of construction, 
 not fewer than twenty-five sawmills on the Sierra Nevadas 
 were kept constantly at work, supplying six hundred and 
 twenty-five thousand feet of timber dail}", aided by the axes 
 of a thousand men. Workmen were often suspended over 
 the surface of perpendicular rocks, drilling and blasting a 
 pathway for the road. In one locality, known as Cape Horn, 
 the precipice sinks abruptly fifteen hundred feet, while the 
 smooth surface of the rock rises upward five hundred feet. 
 The wide-sweeping view from thence, if one is not too dizzy 
 to look, is sublime. Here the road passes over a plateau 
 once the bed of an ocean, and lifted to its present position 
 by volcanic forces ; and again it glides along plains of pul- 
 verized rock ground into the finest dust by preadamite gla- 
 ciers ; and here again it winds around monuments of unknown 
 geological epochs, the authentic record of past ages yet wait- 
 ing to be read. More than twenty thousand men were 
 employed in separate sections, busy at their various work ; 
 some living in tents, others in the open air. Nine out of ten 
 of these hardy men had done good service during the civil 
 war, and, having successfully defended the Government in its 
 hour of peril, they had become used to hardship and had
 
 81 
 
 learned to like it; and they worked with the more energy 
 when they saw, as they did, the flag of the Republic waving 
 over them. After reaching the highest point of the road, on 
 the Rocky Mountains, there is a vast plateau lifted from five 
 to seven thousand feet above the sea, extending hundreds of 
 miles ; while from this elevation, as in the Andes, or the Cau- 
 casus in Central Asia, rise yet loftier ranges. Arriving at 
 length at the Sierra Nevada, these mountains stand like a rim 
 along the western part of the Great Basin, the Great Basin 
 being itself elevated, as has been just stated, and along this 
 rim rise yet higher gigantic ranges, some of whose summits 
 tower upward from fourteen to fifteen thousand feet. No one 
 can imagine the engineering skill required, or the amount 
 of toil endured in the formation of this road, who has not 
 witnessed the extraordinary character of the country through 
 which it passes, a region not long since known only to 
 trappers and hordes of Indians, while at the present time 
 palace-cars glide peacefully over it, and the comfortable trav- 
 eller gazes out upon the wondrous scenery, surrounded by 
 every luxury, beholding at his ease grandeur unsurpassed in 
 either Switzerland or Norway. Even the casual observer 
 becomes excited by some new marvel at every step, while the 
 artist kindles into enthusiasm at unexpected manifestations of 
 color or form, and the student of science constantly beholds 
 fresh fields opening before him for exploration. 
 
 Along the whole distance, added to the solid masonry 
 beneath, a slender wire, like a spider's thread, swings in 
 the air above. Over the first, thunders the powerful loco- 
 motive, with its ponderous train ; while along the latter, 
 darts the invisible thought of man, with its messages of joy 
 or woe. 
 
 The writer of this, in 1870, accompanied the Board of 
 Trade from Boston to San Francisco, in the first Pullman 
 palace-cars that went directly through from the Atlantic to 
 the Pacific. It was in this respect an historical event. The 
 Governors of the several States, as their respective territories 
 were entered, came out to meet us and extend a welcome. 
 Thus it was at Iowa and Nebraska and Colorado and 
 
 11
 
 82 
 
 Wyoming and Nevada; while in reply the President of the 
 Board, the Hon. Alexander H. Rice, happily responded. 
 
 We had a printing-press on board, and a paper was pub- 
 lished each day, filled with spirited communications from vari- 
 ous members of our party ; so that we were always sure of 
 the latest news, and kept well informed upon passing events. 
 Buffaloes, antelopes, and prairie dogs came out occasionally to 
 look at us; while roving Indians of various tribes gazed upon 
 us with evident wonder. 
 
 Even while the road was in process of construction there 
 was a printing-press by which three newspapers were printed 
 daily. The workmen could not get on without their news- 
 paper! 
 
 The electric telegraph was throughout a pleasant com- 
 panion, bringing and taking messages. Word of our prog- 
 ress was thus sent to friends who had been left behind, and 
 thus also did we hear from Boston, Portland, New York, 
 Philadelphia, and Washington ; and as we approached the 
 western side of the continent, far up on the Sierra, welcome 
 came to us, in anticipation, from San Francisco. We were 
 thus surrounded as by a mysterious presence. Neither 
 mountain height nor the solitude of the desert could shut us 
 out from sympathy. Along the whole road, at nearly every 
 station, voices spoke to us, and the very air seemed instinct 
 with a cordial good-will. 
 
 This Central Pacific Railroad, to be always counted as one 
 of the great enterprises of our time, was finished in 1869. 
 The last blow of the hammer was struck in the spring of that 
 year, and on the 10th of May the memorable event was' 
 publicly celebrated ; some three thousand persons, including 
 workmen, being present. 
 
 The road had been carried on both from the east and from 
 the west, and the golden spike was driven where the two 
 parties met. A prayer was offered, of thanksgiving and sup- 
 plication, after which several brief addresses were made, with 
 congratulations from the Governors of several States. In the 
 commemorative services the telegraph took active part. Ar- 
 rangements had been made by which all the telegraphs in the
 
 83 
 
 land were connected. Messages were sent and received. The 
 electric wires were twined around the spike and the hammer, 
 and these wires communicated with the telegraph line, and 
 were thence connected with a fifteen-inch Parrott gun at 
 San Francisco ; and with the last stroke of the hammer 
 the cannon (eight hundred miles distant) was fired by the 
 electric spark, at which signal all the bells in San Francisco 
 and along the Pacific Coast sent forth a rejoicing peal. At 
 the same signal, the bells in Washington, Philadelphia, 
 New York, Boston, Cincinnati, and Chicago simultaneously 
 joined in the jubilant notes. The event was national, and 
 the telegraph enabled the people of the whole land to 
 participate. 
 
 The weight of wire used for the telegraph between Omaha 
 and San Francisco amounted to seven hundred thousand 
 pounds. Some of the Indian tribes along the route looked 
 upon the wire with awe, and considered it to be under the 
 protection of the Great Spirit ; while tribes that had not this 
 superstition had to be watched by a force of cavalry sent out 
 from the Government. 
 
 As an illustration of the rapid speed of transmission and the 
 efficiency with which work maybe accomplished, messages are 
 often telegraphed and printed at the rate of two thousand six 
 hundred words per hour. They are sent at the rate of fifty- 
 eight words per minute, and by some instruments with much 
 greater despatch. On the day of President Lincoln's funeral 
 eighty-five thousand words were transmitted from Washing- 
 ton to New York during the day, more than fourteen thousand 
 words per hour. On another occasion the Annual Message 
 of the Governor of New York, containing five thousand words, 
 was officially transmitted by telegraph and published entire in 
 the city of New York within two hours of its delivery at the 
 Capitol in Albany. The speech of the Queen at the opening 
 of Parliament was printed and circulated in Paris and Berlin 
 before her Majesty had left the House of Lords, every word 
 of which, in addition to its transit overland, must have gone 
 thirty miles under the waters of the English Channel.
 
 84 
 
 , The electro-chemical telegraph can transmit, through a 
 distance of one thousand miles, intelligence at the rate of 
 nineteen thousand five hundred words per hour, which would 
 probably answer the requirement of most persons under 
 ordinary circumstances. 
 
 For scientific purposes arrangements were made, some time 
 since, by which direct connections were formed from the 
 Observatory at Cambridge to the Pacific coast and back, 
 making a direct circuit, in the entire distance, of seven thou- 
 sand miles. There was to be no break, but the message Avas 
 to report itself at the same point from which it was sent. It 
 went over this entire space (of seven thousand miles), report- 
 ing itself, as above named, in seven-tenths of a second. 
 
 And now comes another marvel, by which messages may 
 be sent at the same time and by the same wire in opposite 
 directions; nay, not simply two communications, but four, 
 can be sent over one wire at the same time, from New York 
 to Chicago, a distance of one thousand miles, and to St. Louis, 
 a distance of eleven hundred miles. These simultaneous 
 transmissions have thus gone from New York to Washington 
 at the rate of fifty-eight words per minute each way. Mes- 
 sages are often sent from London two thousand miles, in 
 answer to which are received instantaneous replies. 
 
 The telegraph at the present time is familiarly used in 
 India, Russia, Mexico, and Australia, in Egypt and China, and 
 even in Siberia, indeed, it may well be said, in every place 
 where the intelligence of man has made itself known. 
 
 Every variety of method has also been tried, experiments 
 of all descriptions, improvements and inventions without 
 number, many of them most ingenious and curious, but not 
 in all cases available for practical working. Volumes have 
 been written describing various methods proposed, many pre- 
 senting in some particulars special advantages ; yet, remark- 
 able as many of these have been, and reflecting great credit 
 upon the genius of those who have labored over them, still 
 it is an undeniable fact that the telegraph systems most gen- 
 erally used, both here and in Europe, have been those which 
 originated in this country. Prescott speaks of a convention
 
 85 
 
 of deputies from the German states of Austria, Prussia, 
 Bavaria, Wiirtemberg, and Saxony. The meeting took place 
 at Vienna for the purpose of establishing a uniform telegraph 
 system, and of selecting for that purpose the best. After 
 the most thorough examination, each method having been 
 put to the severest test, the convention decided that the 
 Morse system was practically superior to all others ; and this 
 American system was unanimously adopted, even though one 
 of their own number (Professor Steinheil) had invented a 
 recording telegraph which seemed to approach very near to 
 perfection ; yet under such circumstances he had the mag- 
 nanimity to advocate the American system, which he con- 
 sidered, for economy, speed, and correctness, preferable to all 
 others.
 
 THE ELECTRIC FIRE ALARM. 
 
 IN connection with the telegraph, the fire alarm is too 
 important to be passed over in silence. For more than thirty 
 years it has fulfilled its appointed work, rendering in many 
 cities invaluable service. In the elevated portion of the City 
 Hall a watchman is stationed day and night. From this 
 centre run forth signal circuits of wire to every section of the 
 city. These are connected with signal-boxes, to which, in 
 case of fire, citizens have ready access. Thence the watch- 
 man is immediately informed in what district, and section of 
 the district, the fire is, and the next moment the alarm bells, 
 in all the church-towers, not only peal out the signal, but 
 in such manner that the whole fire department instantly 
 know where to direct their steps ; often before the hand is 
 withdrawn which gives the alarm, the entire body of firemen 
 are rushing at full speed towards the scene of destruction. 
 All the hammers that smite upon the bells weigh from one 
 hundred to two hundred pounds ; these are made to rise and 
 fall by electro-magnetic power. The promptness and efficiency 
 of the whole is like magic. In one instant of time hundreds 
 of thousands throughout the city know what is transpiring ; 
 while those who can render aid are swiftly seeking to do so. 
 Whatever alarms for fire were given in the city through the 
 last quarter of a century of Mr. Emerson's life, came over the 
 electric wire; and among others the alarm for that disastrous 
 conflagration which laid the most valuable part of the city 
 of his habitation in ashes, and when so many of his dearest 
 personal friends saw, within a few hours, their warehouses 
 laid in ruins.
 
 SUBMAEINE TELEGEAPH. 
 
 Mr. Emerson was fifty-seven years of age, there was 
 not an ocean cable in the world. He lived to see more than 
 seventy thousand miles of cable crossing seas and oceans. Vari- 
 ous experiments had been made of carrying the telegraphic 
 wire beneath the water ; and when this had been successfully 
 accomplished, there followed the bolder adventures of ten, 
 twenty, thirty, and one hundred miles, first, the Hudson 
 River, New York and Jersey City ; then Dover and Calais, 
 England and Holland, the Persian Gulf, but when this could 
 be done, why not the Atlantic ? In August of 1857 that dar- 
 ing purpose was resolutely commenced. Two ships of war 
 one the " Niagara," the other the " Agamemnon ;" one Amer- 
 ican, and one English each with twelve hundred and fifty 
 miles of cable carefully coiled on board, commenced their work. 
 Trials came, and disappointments ; but no such result as fail- 
 ure was for an instant admitted. Once the cable parted in 
 two thousand fathoms of water, after more than three hun- 
 dred miles of its length had been successfully laid ; at the 
 next trial, a fierce gale overtook them, threatening all with 
 destruction. But in spite of difficulties the great work was 
 triumphantly accomplished. In August, 1857, the work of 
 paying out the cable commenced, and on the 16th of August, 
 1858, the following official despatch was received at New- 
 foundland: "The Directors of the Atlantic Telegraph Com- 
 pany, Great Britain, to the Directors in America. Europe 
 and America are united by telegraph. ' Glory to God in 
 the highest, on earth peace, good-will towards men.' ' On 
 the 17th of August the telegraph brought under the ocean the 
 first message from the Queen, congratulating the President
 
 upon the successful completion of this great international 
 work, a work in which she declared she had taken the great- 
 est interest, and fervently expressing the hope that "the elec- 
 tric cable which now connects Great Britain with the United 
 States may prove an additional link between the two nations, 
 whose friendship is founded upon their common interest and 
 mutual esteem. The Queen renews to the President her 
 best wishes for the prosperity of the United States." 
 
 To which the President of the United States cordially 
 replied, reciprocating the congratulations of her Majesty the 
 Queen, on the success of the great national enterprise, ac- 
 complished by the science, skill, and indomitable energy 
 of the two countries. " May the Atlantic Telegraph, under 
 the blessing of Heaven, prove to be a bond of perpetual 
 peace and friendship between the kindred nations, and an 
 instrument designed by Divine Providence to diffuse religion, 
 civilization, liberty, and law throughout the world." 
 
 The Lord Mayor of London sent to the city of New York 
 his earnest congratulations, adding : " This is a triumph of 
 science and energy over time and space, uniting more closely 
 the bonds of peace and commercial prosperity ; introducing 
 an era in the world's history, pregnant with results beyond 
 the conception of a finite mind." 
 
 Thus, for nearly quarter of a century did Mr. Emerson 
 live to see the Atlantic telegraph in constant use, and to 
 have become so much a matter of daily life as to have lost 
 perhaps with many its novelty, and with that the sense of its 
 xnarvellousness. 
 
 Not only does the submarine telegraph now pass under 
 the Atlantic, but the Black and the Red Seas, the German 
 Ocean, and the Mediterranean. It reaches beneath the waves 
 to Sweden and Denmark, to Malta and Alexandria, to Tripoli 
 and Algiers, to Bombay and Calcutta. 
 
 But in addition to this, we are now beholding a double and 
 treble and quadruple transmission of messages, at the same 
 time, over the same wire ; simultaneous transmissions either 
 in the same direction or in opposite directions. And this 
 astonishing result has grown into large practice within
 
 89 
 
 the last few years. To many minds this may doubtless be 
 incomprehensible ! 
 
 Looking over the surface of vast oceans and feeling im- 
 pressed by the wild sweeping surges, the whole world 
 knows full well that messages are constantly passing with 
 the swiftness of light through those watery depths. But do 
 men fully comprehend all the marvels therewith involved ? 
 How tame are even the wildest of the Arabian stories, 
 compared to the wonders that are witnessed every hour! 
 There are those who would hardly think it worthy of com- 
 ment, if a message were sent this day to London, and from 
 London to Constantinople, and thence to Bagdad, and from 
 Bagdad through British India, and at last under the Atlantic 
 to Massachusetts, and still onward over the Rocky Moun- 
 tains and the Sierra Nevada, to San Francisco. 
 
 In the daily papers of San Francisco, is reported the tele- 
 graphic news respecting the state of the markets abroad, 
 together with the general intelligence from Europe, of facts 
 which were actually transpiring only the day previous. 
 This intelligence is published simultaneously in New York, 
 Boston, and San Francisco ; the papers in the three cities 
 reporting the same words which come to each, three thousand 
 miles beneath the sea, and to the latter city at least three 
 thousand miles more overland. Omniscience and Omnipres- 
 ence seem practically illustrated in the commonplace doings 
 of our day. 
 
 12
 
 THE TELEPHONE. 
 
 ANY person might naturally have imagined, in regard to the 
 transmission of thought through great distances of space, 
 that perfection had been acquired, at least as near perfection 
 as human ability would be likely to attain. But no ; the 
 climax had not yet been reached. An observer of poetic 
 temperament might have exclaimed, " Ay, could we but send 
 over the wires articulate speech ! were it made possible for 
 friends, a hundred miles distant, to converse together as if in 
 the same room, that were indeed an achievement!" Well, 
 even this has been accomplished. Not as a solitary experi- 
 ment, but as a fact of daily experience, a simple business 
 arrangement employed now by hundreds of thousands. At 
 this moment more than three hundred thousand telephones 
 are in constant and practical use through the United States. 
 They are also in daily use through Belgium, Germany, 
 Austria, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Russia, Sweden, Norway, 
 and Holland. Over the civilized world they seem to have 
 taken their place as one of the necessities of life. 
 
 In Mr. Emerson's advanced age Professor Alexander 
 Graham Bell had acquired a high reputation as an educator ; 
 especially was he known as a successful teacher of deaf mutes. 
 Not satisfied with mechanical methods or attainments yet 
 reached, he examined closely the principles of speech and the 
 philosophy of sound ; the complicated organs of the throat, 
 mouth, and ear, how they were constructed and why they 
 were thus constructed. So accurate were his perceptions and 
 so correct were his conclusions, that he actually taught those 
 who had been born deaf and dumb to comprehend by the mov- 
 ing lips the thought expressed, and not only this, but to answer
 
 91 
 
 by articulate speech. He also examined minutely into the 
 philosophy of sound, the nature of vibrations made upon the 
 atmosphere, the "how and why" connected with every move- 
 ment, until, while watching the musical tones upon the cord 
 of a piano, he suddenly exclaimed that the human voice 
 might be transmitted over the electric wire. This was more 
 than six years before Mr. Emerson's death, who lived to see 
 the fulfilment of that thought, and rejoiced in it the more 
 because it was so legitimately the result of Dr. Bell's suc- 
 cessful studies in one of the most humane branches of 
 education. He saw the manner in which sound causes vibra- 
 tions of the atmosphere to act upon the tympanum, or drum 
 of the ear, and that these vibrations are carried to the brain 
 by the nerves ; in other words, that the Overruling Power 
 had placed a telephone in every human head. A diaphragm 
 was then formed corresponding to the tympanum. This as 
 a membrane receives the vibrations ; and the metallic con- 
 ductor, of any indefinable length (an inch or a thousand 
 miles), forms the nerve along which the electric waves of 
 sound move. 
 
 Thus did the originator study the workings of the Supreme 
 Intelligence. In the same manner, Smeaton, when about to 
 build the Eddystone Lighthouse, went to the forest to study 
 how the Creator imparted to trees strength to resist the storms, 
 and took for his model the oak, spreading with a curve from 
 the roots and curving out again towards the branches. So 
 Harvey, when he discovered the circulation of the blood, 
 was led to the result to which he came, by observing the 
 system of valves placed at various sections along the veins, 
 allowing the blood to flow but one way. " I notice," he 
 said, " that everything the Great Being has made has a 
 purpose; for what purpose, then, is this? " The answer was 
 found in his great discovery, revealed through this evidence 
 of prospective design. Thus also Dollond, when he made 
 his most important improvements in the telescope, studied 
 the laws of the refrangibility of light, in connection with the 
 structure of the human eye. He who said, " Let light be, 
 and light was," had made exactly the provision requisite; and
 
 92 
 
 precisely the same arrangement was found to be needed in 
 the telescope. Thus nearly every discovery in science, in 
 mechanics, and in art has been anticipated in nature ; while 
 that which is most in harmony with the underlying and 
 invisible laws of the universe will inevitably endure the 
 longest and be productive of the most good. In the same 
 manner Nature foreshadowed the telephone, and the tele- 
 phone is one of the wonderful exponents of her laws. 
 
 In nearly all cases where any important discovery has been 
 made, it has been found that various intelligent and active 
 minds have been earnestly at work upon the same problem. 
 The question of priority has been before the courts ; and so far 
 the courts have decided that the priority belongs to Bell. 
 Both Judge Lowell and Judge Gra}^ gave to the subject 
 minute investigation. Judge Gray's decision was emphatic. 
 " Dr. Bell," he declares, " was the first inventor who success- 
 fully used the electric current for the transmission of articu- 
 late sound." To him belongs the credit of discovering " that 
 undulatory vibrations of electricity can intelligently and ac- 
 curately transmit articulate sound, and by him was invented 
 the process by which he reduced his discovery to practical 
 use." What are the results? Three hundred thousand 
 telephones are at this time in daily use within the limits of 
 the United States. They are in constant service through 
 nearly all the countries of Europe. They are to be found in 
 England, France, and Spain, Belgium and Germany. They 
 are familiarly known in the great cities, St. Petersburg, 
 Moscow, Warsaw, Odessa, Rome, and Naples. They are alike 
 in the workshop and the palace, in the drawing-room and the 
 counting-room. The manufacturer communicates with his 
 workmen, while the Czar sits in his palace and listens to the 
 music of the opera. In Cincinnati one hundred and thirty 
 villages within a radius of one hundred miles have been 
 brought, by the telephone, within speaking distance. Both 
 Boston and Lowell form centres connected by telephone 
 with yet wider circuits. The capacity of the telephone for 
 use over long distances is at present not fully known. Con- 
 versation can usually be carried on with ease for one hun-
 
 93 
 
 dred miles, and, under general circumstances, one hundred 
 and fifty miles is not too far for ordinary use. Conversation 
 has been carried on over a distance of four hundred miles ; 
 and in another instance a dialogue took place with satisfac- 
 tory distinctness by friends in New York and Cleveland. 
 The experiment has also been tried of speaking from New 
 York to Chicago, and words were readily exchanged between 
 those places ; but the general use of the telephone over so 
 great a distance remains for the future to determine. The 
 extent of the work now going on is suggested by the fact 
 that there is at present in use in this country more than 
 twenty-five thousand miles of wire ; and a company that 
 struggled hard for existence in the earlier period of its life, 
 have cleared themselves from all serious complications, and 
 report their earnings for the last year as $1,576,031.57. In 
 regard to Canada they have control of the whole dominion, 
 and are rapidly increasing their operations. The same work 
 is now becoming speedily extended through South America, 
 at Buenos Ayres, at Rio Janeiro, at Venezuela, Rosario, Santa 
 Fe, and Cordova. Not many years ago, much was said of 
 what was called the Whispering Gallery, in old St. Paul's 
 Church of London ; but now it seems hardly too much to 
 say, the people of the whole globe may speak the one to the 
 other.
 
 DISCOVERIES AND INVENTIONS. 
 
 WHEN the American Academy of Arts and Sciences was 
 originally organized, in 1779, in the midst of the exhausting 
 contest of our struggle for independence, the founders of 
 that eminent society made the following statement: "Many 
 important European discoveries have been in a great measure 
 useless to this part of the world, in consequence of a situation 
 so remote from the ancient seats of learning and improve- 
 ment." What would those able men have thought, the lead- 
 ing men of their time, if they could have witnessed, with 
 prophetic foresight, the changes which in one century have 
 been brought about? The "situation so remote " seems now 
 less distant. Here also, from the seeds they scattered, we 
 have our own " ancient seats of learning and improvement," 
 which, in some respects at least, may be said to rival those 
 of the Old World. At all events, we are not so far separated 
 as to prevent our working in harmony. No one could 
 realize more fully the privileges they enjoyed, even at that 
 trying period, than did those noble men. " The citizens," 
 they say, " have great opportunities and advantages for mak- 
 ing useful experiments and improvements, whereby the inter- 
 ests and happiness of the rising empire may be essentially 
 advanced. . . . Enjoying that freedom which is propitious to 
 the diffusion of knowledge, which expands the mind and 
 engages it to noble and generous pursuits, they have a stimu- 
 lus to enterprise which the inhabitants of few other countries 
 can feel." 
 
 How truly have these sagacious and inspiring words been 
 verified ! For the past hundred years the enjoyment of free- 
 dom, the diffusion of knowledge, the expansion of mind, the
 
 95 
 
 engagement in generous pursuits, have given a stimulus to 
 enterprise, and led to unnumbered discoveries and inventions 
 in every branch of science and of thought. 
 
 If you turn to the astronomer, he looks to the heavens 
 through instruments such as Galileo never knew. What to 
 him was an apparently meaningless blur, becomes now a clearly 
 defined system of worlds ; size, color, motion, are perfectly 
 distinct. The observer is lifted to a higher plane, and the 
 curtains of space are drawn aside. If you turn to the mi- 
 croscopist, the invisible realms to him take almost colossal 
 proportions. The minute becomes gigantic ; a wing, an eye, 
 a hair, suggests ample study for a lifetime. That which 
 once no mortal could even behold, displays now the most 
 perfect organism, supremely exquisite in all its parts, as won- 
 derful in itself as the myriads of worlds that are revolving 
 through space. Then, what separate fields are presented for 
 investigation, the animal kingdom, the vegetable kingdom, 
 physiological and structural botany, comparative anatomy, 
 the mysterious phenomena of growth ! Objects too small 
 for the unaided sight are obliged to give evidence of what 
 they are, and often fill the mind not only with astonishment 
 but with an ecstasy of joy. If you visit the laboratory, you 
 find the man of science aided in all his studies by the delicate 
 instruments which have been devised to help his investiga- 
 tions. He is making the most astonishing discoveries through 
 agencies invented for him. If you enter a factory, amid the 
 whirl of machinery, you cannot count the new and ingenious 
 methods of facilitating human labor. Iron and steel, wood 
 and water, seem mellowed with thought. Intelligently they 
 move and .toil for human advantage. If you go into the 
 field and watch the husbandman, you find him ploughing, 
 planting, reaping, raking, binding, threshing, shelling, all by 
 machinery. The most curious and intricate mechanism, that 
 looks impracticable for common uses, works like a human 
 creature for the benefit of man. The farmer sits and looks at 
 the upturned furrow and the gathered harvest with wonder. 
 If you enter the studio of the photographer, you may see, 
 by the most ethereal process, ra} r s of light portraying the
 
 96 
 
 features of your friend. The sun, ninety million miles distant, 
 can give you, with one touch, the countenance of eveiy bene- 
 factor you have ; nay, the localities you have taken delight 
 in, the mountain or valley, lake or stream ; the scenes you 
 have visited abroad or would like to visit ; the pyramids and 
 obelisks and antiquities of Egypt ; the places most sacredly 
 associated with the Saviour through the Holy Land ; Spain 
 with the lace-like traceries of its Alhambra, Venice with its 
 gondolas floating over the Grand Canal. Or, if you prefer 
 the galleries of art, you have the counterparts of the great 
 masters, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Correggio, and Leonardo 
 da Vinci, not indeed in their original greatness, but full of 
 suggestion, and all drawn with a pencil of light ; or if, instead 
 of the studio, you enter the hospital, you find, through yet 
 another extraordinary discovery of science, that those who 
 were but a moment before writhing in agony, by the gentlest 
 process, are relieved of all pain. The surgeon leans over and 
 carefully draws his knife, while the patient quietly reposes as 
 if in sleep. Dr. Jackson, who suggested the use of ether 
 to produce insensibility to pain, lived within a few minutes' 
 walk of Mr. Emerson's residence, and the first trials, made by 
 others, were in his immediate neighborhood. He knew famil- 
 iarly the hospital into which it was earliest introduced ; and 
 the discovery and application of anaesthesia, which he lived to 
 see extended over the world, he counted as one of the greatest 
 benefactions yet bestowed upon mankind. 
 
 Added to the great Scientific Discoveries which largely 
 helped to increase the growth of the country during the 
 period of Mr. Emerson's life, must be considered the Inven- 
 tions which occupy an important position in this industrial 
 era. These were at times the result of patient study and elab- 
 orate experiment, and at times they may have flashed upon the 
 thought as an intuitive creation. Whatever were the facts 
 in regard to this, we think it is safe to sa}% that the inven- 
 tive genius of man has never been so active, or accomplished 
 so much within the same space of time to advance the prog- 
 ress of civilization. 
 
 What, then, was the condition of the country in this partic-
 
 97 
 
 ular when Mr. Emerson entered upon his career, and what 
 changes did he live to witness ? The applications made at 
 the Patent Office, in Washington, are a safe criterion of what 
 is transpiring. In 1790, including the whole of the United 
 States, there were only three applications for patents ; and 
 through seven succeeding years the whole number of appli- 
 cations only reached 145, on an average but a little over 
 twenty for each year. During the year in which Mr. Emer- 
 son entered college (1813) the whole number of patents ap- 
 plied for at the Patent Office from the entire country was 
 181; for the four succeeding years, the applications for 
 patents at Washington were as follows : 
 
 1814 
 1815 
 
 210 
 173 
 
 1816 
 1817 
 
 206 
 174 
 
 making, for these four years, 763 applications for patents. 
 In the year 1797, the year in which Mr. Emerson was born, 
 the number of applications for patents was 51 ; in the year 
 he died, 16,584, an actual increase of 16,533. Nothing 
 can show more conclusively the activity of the inventive 
 faculty, and the extraordinary progress made in that depart- 
 ment within the experience of one individual. 
 
 13
 
 THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 IT has been stated in the foregoing Memoir, that Mr. Emer- 
 son during the Civil War was greatly interested in the educa- 
 tion of the multitudes of freedmen who were liberated during 
 the war, either as the natural result of the great struggle or 
 by the Act of Emancipation. As chairman of the Educational 
 Committee, he held a most responsible and laborious position. 
 Thus did he show the consistency of his character, and, not 
 satisfied with mere words of approval, he desired to give 
 practical aid to a work which so deeply interested him. To 
 the thousands now set free, education of some kind was more 
 important than ever. New duties and responsibilities were 
 opening before them ; how imperative that they should be 
 instructed in the proper way of meeting them ! But it seems 
 hardly fitting that this single feature of those exciting times 
 should be alluded to, and no further mention made of one 
 of the most momentous events in modern history. 
 
 Many readers, looking upon Mr. Emerson's life superficially, 
 might suppose that it was a life of almost unbroken tranquil- 
 lity and happiness ; y"et he not only had his domestic sorrows, 
 but he passed through seasons of unwonted commotion, 
 seasons that convulsed the nation, and taxed to the utmost 
 every power of endurance. No one who was not living dur- 
 ing the period of the Civil War, can easily comprehend the 
 anxiety through which whole communities passed. Hardly 
 was there a family from which some loved member had not 
 gone to the war; hardly was there a hearthstone where there 
 was not some vacant chair ; and how many young and fair 
 and noble went forth, from their love of country and their 
 devotion to the right, nevermore to return !
 
 99 
 
 The Civil War burst like a tornado over the land, bringing 
 bloodshed and desolation in its career. It was a war which 
 in certain quarters had been deliberately planned, the ma- 
 ture fruit of a secret purpose cherished for years. Every 
 preparation which it was thought would secure the proposed 
 ends had been cautiously made ; military stores had been 
 transferred, military arrangements for defence and attack 
 had been thoroughly considered. The fires of animosity had 
 been fanned and kindled into an intense heat. Through the 
 loyal States there was no preparation for such a condition of 
 affairs, because no such condition of affairs was even sus- 
 pected. When the facts became known, astonishment gave 
 way to courageous resolve. As the hideous features of this 
 colossal insurrection were unveiled, it awakened, through all 
 the loyal States, a determination and patriotism which seemed 
 universal and invincible. Every noble element was at once 
 aroused. No sacrifice was too great to be readily made ; no 
 hardship could repel, no danger intimidate. Party lines 
 melted into air. The thought of minor differences vanished, 
 while all united, with glowing unity of feeling, in defence of 
 the Government. The lumberman in the forest, the farmer in 
 the field, the mechanic in his workshop, the merchant in his 
 warehouse, the student in the school, the academy, and the 
 college, all listened to the voice of their country, and were 
 ready for service. It was no hour for trifling. With all it 
 was a solemn question of life or death. This was no holiday 
 excitement ; it was a decision that involved the perpetuity 
 of freedom. Through the Eastern and the Middle States 
 and all the Territories of the great Northwest, from Maine 
 and Massachusetts, to California and Oregon, hundreds of 
 thousands sprang to their feet, and were resolved to take no 
 step backward until the work for which they were united 
 was fully accomplished. With different shades of opinion 
 there was perfect unity in regard to the result, and a grow- 
 ing conviction that an overruling Providence was at work 
 for the fulfilment of beneficent ends. More and more deeply 
 was it felt, with every progressive movement, that a higher 
 than mortal power was to accomplish purposes which would
 
 100 
 
 make the age forever memorable. The very effort to per- 
 petuate a wrong was to be the direct means of extirpating 
 it. Armed treason rendered the act of emancipation not only 
 legally right, but an absolute necessity. At the beginning of 
 the war, four millions of human beings were held in bondage ; 
 now, as we gaze back, from the vantage ground of the present 
 time, and search carefully over this wide Republic, we see 
 that from ocean to ocean not one slave exists. Thus, as 
 the dark clouds of war have parted and rolled away, we can 
 behold how Providence has created a new era in the world's 
 history. 
 
 To thoughtful minds, through long years, one terrible prob- 
 lem had been presenting itself. Freedom and slavery, linked 
 together, formed a constant incongruity. Through wide terri- 
 tories slave markets abounded, where human beings, male and 
 female, old and young, were made matters of traffic. Often 
 were these poor creatures driven manacled, under the lash of 
 the overseer, from one market to another. The whole system 
 was appalling. Monstrous in its nature and fearful in its 
 results, its antagonism to freedom, as well as its essential 
 barbarity, was deeply and widely felt. With the progress 
 of civilization, and, above all, with the advancement of 
 Christianity, more just and generous views could not but take 
 possession of the human mind. 
 
 No one could feel more profoundly than Mr. Emerson 
 whatever was associated with the national honor and life, or 
 cherish a firmer faith in that Providence which watches over 
 all, bringing good, in ways least expected, out of apparent 
 evil. 
 
 Mr. Emerson was sixty-four years of age when Abraham 
 Lincoln was chosen President of the United States. The elec- 
 tion was peaceable and constitutional ; as much so as the 
 election of any President, from the time of Washington on- 
 wards. Each step had been in harmony with the letter and 
 spirit of the Constitution ; yet, notwithstanding all that was 
 both generous and conciliatory, this event was made the 
 occasion of an insurrection so bitter and violent as to be 
 without a parallel. A confederation of slave-holders leagued
 
 101 
 
 themselves against the Government of the nation, only too 
 ready to insult the national flag and to trample the Constitu- 
 tion under its feet. 
 
 At half-past four o'clock on Friday morning, April 12, 1861, 
 the American flag was first fired upon, while the bombard- 
 ment of Fort Sumter lasted between thirty and forty hours. 
 Red-hot shell and shot were thrown upon the fortress erected 
 by the United States Government for the defence of Charles- 
 ton. The fortress was under command of Major Anderson, 
 aided by a handful of men who were supposed to be sufficient 
 for what had been considered a time of peace. The fierce 
 cannonading thus suddenly opened, was steadily continued 
 until the fort took fire, and the little company of faithful 
 men were hemmed in by burning rafters. Presently each 
 building was in flames, and even the granite walls of the 
 powder magazine were shattered, and the iron doors broken 
 through, while it was expected that at any instant might 
 come the fatal explosion. Still, even then the American flag 
 held its place, while Anderson and his men were true to their 
 country. At length, however, the force brought against 
 them was too great, and they were obliged to surrender. 
 Yet the only condition upon which they would yield was that 
 they should march out under the national flag, with their 
 colors flying and drums beating. When they had thus left, 
 the next act of rebellion was to raise the Confederate flag in 
 the place of the stars and stripes, and that flag of the Con- 
 federates, it \vas declared, should soon wave over the Capitol 
 at Washington. 
 
 Such was the earliest open act of war. This outrage, like 
 an electric flash, kindled the nation. The effect through the 
 whole North and West was amazing. There was but one 
 sentiment and one will. 
 
 An extra session of Congress was at once called, and an 
 order issued by the President for 75,000 troops. Within two 
 weeks, in answer to that call, 300,000 men had voluntarily 
 offered their services. There is no occasion to repeat here 
 facts well known ; it is enough simply to state that Mr. 
 Emerson watched with earnest feeling the vicissitudes of
 
 102 
 
 that trying time. A tempest dark and dreadful was sweeping 
 over the land ; and what was to happen next was beyond 
 human power to foretell. But with Mr. Emerson faith was 
 ever dominant. He witnessed with joy the enthusiastic loy- 
 alty which universally prevailed. Everywhere the highest 
 intelligence and truest strength of the country was repre- 
 sented. No class of men held back ; while thousands upon 
 thousands offered their services, and were ready, if need be, 
 to give their lives for their country. 
 
 Through four successive years Mr. Emerson watched with 
 anxious solicitude the result of the conflict. With each 
 defeat he felt a pang, and with each success, gratitude and 
 exultation. The battle of Malvern Hill and in the Wilder- 
 ness of Virginia, the capture of Savannah and New Orleans, 
 the struggle above the clouds on Lookout Mountain, and the 
 march from Atlanta, all these seemed to pass before his eye. 
 The conflicts at Fort Donelson, Chattanooga, Antietam and 
 Gettysburg, Winchester and Nashville, Vicksburg and Mobile, 
 brought a throb to his heart. He lived to read the account 
 of six hundred battles, in which multitudes laid down their 
 lives. He saw Massachusetts alone contribute one hundred 
 and sixty thousand men to the army and navy, and expend 
 twenty-eight million dollars from her treasury. At one time 
 more than a million men were in the service ; the Army of the 
 Potomac alone numbered two hundred thousand. The State 
 of Ohio, within four weeks, organized and placed in the field 
 forty-two regiments of infantry, nearly thirty-six thousand 
 men. Eighty-four thousand well-mounted cavalry were in 
 the service. 
 
 All this was requisite to keep at bay the armed forces 
 arrayed against the Government ; to check that slave-power 
 which was determined to fortify and extend its system, that 
 persistent treason which would allow nothing to escape its 
 grasp by which it might strike a death-blow at the Republic, 
 and shatter the Union into fragments. 
 
 If Mr. Emerson had turned to the "London Times," in 
 1861, he might have read such startling lines as these : "The 
 crash of the New World ! " " The bubble has broken ! "
 
 103 
 
 " All the institutions and destinies of that mighty Union 
 are scattered ! " " In fact, the United States of North 
 America have ceased to be ! " That such was the hope, 
 of at least a few, on the other side of the ocean, there 
 can be no doubt; but such was not the aspect of things 
 on this side of the Atlantic. Not for a moment was the 
 general faith shaken ; and we think we can truly add, that 
 not even for one instant did the determination of the peo- 
 ple waver in regard to carrying the work they had com- 
 menced triumphantly through. There was probably not 
 a city, or town, or village in New England that was not 
 represented on the battle-field ; father and son at times 
 standing shoulder to shoulder, while mothers and sisters and 
 daughters were watching in hospitals or laboring with the 
 Sanitary Commission. So, too, New York and Pennsylvania, 
 Ohio and Michigan, Iowa and Nebraska, Minnesota, Montana, 
 and Wisconsin, were all pledged irrevocably to free labor, 
 while their strong and stalwart men stood firm and immov- 
 able by the integrity of the Union. And so, also, California, 
 at the extremest line of the Union, with nothing but the 
 Pacific Ocean between it and China, not only sent men in 
 full numbers, again and again, to aid the great cause, but 
 she poured forth her silver and gold without stint for that 
 good Samaritan-work of the war, the Sanitary Commission. 
 
 The foundations of this Government were not laid upon 
 " unrequited toil." In the Declaration of the founders it was 
 proclaimed that all men had an inalienable right to life, lib- 
 erty, and the pursuit of happiness; which was a simple recog- 
 nition of that brotherhood of man revealed by Christ, the 
 divine germ of true liberty, the fundamental idea of the Re- 
 public. In this struggle slavery and freedom were brought 
 face to face. The advocates of slavery forced it to be so. 
 With a wild infatuation they compelled a decision. With 
 their own hands they fired the train that was to explode 
 the evil they cherished. By a righteous retribution the 
 very system of slavery which had created the war must, 
 by the inherent laws connected with that war, become 
 exterminated.
 
 104 
 
 In September of 1862 the preliminary proclamation by the 
 President was made public, and in January of 1863 the great 
 Proclamation of Freedom was issued by the head of the 
 nation, as commander-in-chief of the army and navy. Thus 
 the millions of human beings who had been held in bondage 
 were declared to be freemen forevermore. Slavery had al- 
 ready been abolished in the District of Columbia by an Act 
 of Congress ; it had been prohibited by law throughout the 
 Territories ; and now it was swept from all the States in 
 active rebellion. According to the usages of military ser- 
 vice this declaration was irrevocable. The measure in itself 
 was an act of self-preservation ; but it was none the less a 
 deed of justice and humanity. Thus was accomplished one 
 of the most essential steps towards the utter extinction of 
 slavery, and the establishment of consistent and universal 
 freedom. A result of such immeasurable consequence could 
 not but be recognized among all nations as an event of 
 momentous import. It formed, beyond all question, an epoch 
 in the history of the country and a new era in the progress 
 of mankind. 
 
 The Proclamation of the President was received through 
 all the loyal States with expressions of joy. The re-election 
 of President Lincoln was a testimony of popular approval. 
 The votes of both houses of Congress prohibiting slavery 
 throughout the Republic made doubly the Act of Emancipa- 
 tion a vital reality ; and to establish yet more fully this great 
 measure, it was resolved by both houses of Congress to sub- 
 mit to the legislatures of the several States the Constitutional 
 Amendment; and on the 18th day of December, 1865, the 
 Hon. William H. Sevvard, as Secretary of State, officially pro- 
 claimed the ratification of the amendment, and certified that 
 it had become a part of the Constitution of the United States. 
 Thus, by the act of the President, the approval of the two 
 houses of Congress, and finally by the emphatic affirmation of 
 the whole people, was slavery forever overthrown throughout 
 the entire land. "Never until now," wrote Mr. William C. 
 Bryant, " could we say that slavery has been abolished by 
 the solemn verdict and sentence of the nation. The formal
 
 105 
 
 assent of twenty-seven States to the repeal of the law of 
 bondage has snapped the last link of the fetters which galled 
 the limbs of four millions of God's children and our brethren." 
 "It puts the seal," he emphatically adds, "a seal never to 
 be broken, upon the mouth of the bottomless pit into which 
 that foul abomination has been thrown." 
 
 Thus did Mr. Emerson live to see the Government he hon- 
 ored, in the hour of its bitterest trial, most nobly defended ; 
 the rebellion, with its threats of destruction, utterly over- 
 thrown ; and slavery, which was always a source of conten- 
 tion, and which was to have been the chief corner-stone of the 
 new confederacy, wholly and forever abolished. Not many 
 periods in all the past history of the race have been so memo- 
 rable. And among the many who rejoiced in the result, no 
 one could do so more heartily than George B. Emerson. This 
 was to him, as it was to Abraham Lincoln, "under God, a 
 new birth of Freedom ;" and he could joyfully respond to the 
 emphatic language of the President, as if it contained the 
 answer to his most fervent prayers : " The government of the 
 people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from 
 the earth." 
 
 " Let us never doubt," said Abraham Lincoln, " that a just 
 God, in his own good time, will give us the rightful result." 
 As he journeyed towards the scene of his inauguration he said, 
 " Without a name, without a reason why I should have a name, 
 there has fallen upon me a task such as did not rest even 
 upon the Father of his Country. On the Almighty Being I 
 place my reliance. Pray that I may receive that Divine assist- 
 ance, without which I cannot succeed, but with which success 
 is certain." To the disaffected he said, " You can have no 
 conflict without being yourselves the aggressors." The prin- 
 ciple he started with, and the principle he clung to, was this : 
 " A house divided against itself cannot stand. The Govern- 
 ment cannot permanently endure, half slave and half free. 
 The Union will not be dissolved, but the house will cease to 
 be divided." This he lived to see verified. Sagacious, 
 honest, and true, he fulfilled his work ; and at length, 
 ki with malice towards none and with charity for all," he 
 
 14
 
 106 
 
 saw a united country and a free people. For him every 
 loyal heart cherished admiration and gratitude ; once again 
 tranquillity prevailed, wh'ile victorious armies were quietly 
 returning to their peaceful homes. 
 
 But just then one more dark deed was to exemplify the 
 spirit of the rebellion. At a moment when he least thought 
 of it, unguarded and unsuspecting, the good President fell, 
 mortally wounded, under the hand of an assassin. 
 
 It was in harmony with many appalling deeds that had 
 gone before. The sick-room of William H. Seward, Secretary 
 of State, at the same time was entered by an accomplice of the 
 assassin, and the Secretary was stabbed three times with a 
 bowie-knife, while General Grant and others were marked 
 as intended victims, but almost miraculously escaped. Such 
 was the closing crime of the rebellion. The telegraph carried 
 swift word over the country of this terrible deed, while amid 
 tolling bells and the sound of minute-guns a people bowed 
 in anguish. The seal of martyrdom had been put upon the 
 President's career. 
 
 Thus much is stated respecting the Civil War and the 
 great Act of Emancipation, because they were subjects of deep 
 interest, affecting Mr. Emerson's life, and because his position 
 as chairman of the Educational Committee led him, in con- 
 nection with the war, to important labors for the instruction 
 of freedmen, who were liberated by thousands during the 
 war, forlorn creatures, utterly ignorant, but eager to learn. 
 This truly philanthropic mission sought the industrial, social, 
 intellectual, and religious improvement of that large class of 
 persons who, as the armies advanced, had been released from 
 slavery. Grateful beyond measure, they let 110 opportunity 
 of gaining infofmation pass unimproved. Thousands upon 
 thousands flocked to the Union army, rendering valuable 
 assistance; and so important was their aid, that they were 
 cordially welcomed through all departments of the public 
 service. Multitudes of blacks were wandering over planta- 
 tions deserted by their former masters, without control or 
 guidance; but, docile as little children, they gathered con- 
 fidingly about the teachers, asking if they could be taught
 
 107 
 
 how to write and to read. The old and the infirm, as well as 
 the vigorous and strong, were earnest to learn. Mr. Emerson, 
 by his aid in selecting and sending teachers to this new and 
 untried field of labor, showed his Christian benevolence, his 
 intelligent zeal, and the unwavering consistency of his 
 character.
 
 THE STATE OF ILLINOIS DURING THE WAR. 
 
 IN the year 1866 (the year following the close of the Civil 
 War), Mr. Waterston was chosen chairman of the Committee 
 to write the School Report for the City of Boston. During 
 that year he visited the South and the West, and included in 
 his Report the result of his observations in those sections of 
 the country. He takes the liberty of introducing here a pas- 
 sage respecting the State of Illinois, as an illustration of what 
 was going on during that great national struggle. This is 
 simply what one State was doing in company with many 
 others ; showing how earnestly they were ready to stand by 
 their country. In doing this they by no means neglected the 
 best interests of their State, and among those interests none 
 was more prominent than the cause of education. Nothing 
 can exemplify more fully the spirit of the people, or reflect 
 greater honor upon their character. 
 
 ILLINOIS. 
 
 The State of Illinois contributed more than a quarter of a 
 million of men for the national defence. Teachers and pupils 
 went side by side into the battle-field. Literall}', thousands 
 of teachers left the school-room for the camp. From the 
 Illinois College, in 1864, the whole senior class, after having 
 been examined for their degree, marched in a body to the 
 war, the professor at their head. The famous Thirty-third 
 Infantry was largely composed of students. From various 
 colleges, 4,498 alumni and students went to the war. One 
 college sent seven hundred, of whom one hundred fell in 
 the service. Such is the record of a State which sent two 
 hundred and fifty-six thousand men to the war, while at that
 
 109 
 
 very time she was erecting more school-houses than ever 
 before, and at a larger aggregate cost ; and, in addition to 
 all she was so nobty doing for the Government in money and 
 men, she was also contributing an unprecedented amount for 
 education throughout the State. Within two years 1,122 
 school buildings Avere erected, of a superior order, at an 
 aggregate cost of $1,305,961, and this by voluntary local 
 taxation, a fact, under the circumstances, probably without 
 a parallel. In 1865 Illinois contributed $475,072 for new 
 school-houses; and in 1866, the princely sum of $830,889, 
 an increase over the previous year of $355,817, and over that 
 of 1864 by $610,853. 
 
 The number of scholars enrolled through the State, for the 
 year ending Sept. 30, 1866, was 614,659, an increase of 
 more than forty thousand within two years. Between 1860 
 and 1866, while so large a number of male teachers were 
 absent at the war, the number of female teachers increased 
 by 3,965, who came in to make good the place of those who 
 had gone. The money assessed in the State for the support of 
 common schools, within eleven years, has been $7,492,974.51, 
 nearly seven and a half million dollars ; but, added to this, 
 there has been a voluntary local taxation, amounting in ten 
 years to over thirteen millions ($13,000,166) ; so that, munifi- 
 cent as has been the aid of the State, still more munificent 
 has been the voluntary contribution of the people, the 
 people having generously given two dollars for every one 
 appropriated by the State, so that actually within ten years 
 the combined sums have reached the incredible amount of 
 nearly twenty million dollars ($19,886,331). Romance is 
 less wonderful than reality, when reality can present facts 
 like these. What page that history has ever written surpasses 
 in true interest such a recital ?
 
 SCHOOLS FOR THE FREEDMEN. 
 
 HAVING presented some statements respecting education in 
 Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri, Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, 
 and other States at the West, an account was given, in the 
 same Report, of efforts exerted in behalf of the freedmen, 
 respecting which allusion has been made in dwelling upon 
 Mr. Emerson's duties as chairman of the Committee on 
 Teachers. 
 
 The writer of this was for some time one of the committee, 
 and can bear testimony to the devotion of the teachers and 
 to the exceeding interest and value of the schools. He 
 will only here speak of his visit to the schools in Wash- 
 ington and Richmond, which may have the greater interest 
 because it refers to the year the war closed, and states what 
 was going on at that moment. 
 
 In Washington, the capital of the country, where the sub- 
 ject of education is attracting new attention, the schools for 
 the freedmen, under the direction of teachers from the North- 
 ern States, formed the special object of observation. Nothing 
 can surpass the devotedness of the teachers, or the hearty zeal 
 of the pupils. A more inspiring sight the human eye cannot 
 rest upon, alike honorable to teacher and taught. 
 
 In Richmond, while the old slave-markets are deserted, the 
 schools for the freedmen are thronged. The halls of the 
 Capitol, where the officials of the attempted confederacy met, 
 are now empty; while the poor and the ignorant, with a free- 
 dom they never enjoyed before, gladly assemble in every 
 place which can be obtained, eager to gain knowledge. Under 
 the broad folds of the national banner, teachers are earnestly 
 imparting instruction. There it was we heard the children
 
 Ill 
 
 of those who, until the Federal armies entered Richmond, 
 never knew from personal experience what liberty is, sing 
 with an outburst of honest enthusiasm, " The Battle Hymn 
 of the Republic." Intelligent teachers from the North, both 
 from the East and the West, are actively engaged in this 
 work, laying the strong foundations of future peace and 
 prosperity. 
 
 The intelligence of the Northern armies not only gave 
 them skill, but clothed them with added power. Wherever 
 they went, enterprise, knowledge, and all the accompaniments 
 of a higher civilization went with them. Along the whole 
 line of the camp-fires school-houses sprang up. An army of 
 teachers followed close upon the army with bayonets; and 
 before the clouds of strife had rolled away, seeds of blessing 
 were scattered in the very furrows of battle. 
 
 That good work is still going on. More than a thousand 
 teachers, in the spirit of a disinterested patriotism, are at this 
 moment instructing through the South over one hundred 
 thousand persons, young and old ; diffusing the light of 
 knowledge where it meets with a joyful welcome. Thus are 
 these great civilizing instrumentalities insuring the moral and 
 intellectual elevation of the people. 
 
 NOTE. Many of the teachers who went at that time to the South 
 were possessed of uncommon ability, and from their deep sympathy in 
 the work, gave up important positions at home, that they might aid in 
 this labor. From the letters of that period, the following, by William 
 Lloyd Garrison, is selected, because it refers to Mr. Emerson, and also 
 to one who, interested in the freedmen, was desirous of doing whatever 
 might be in his power for the welfare of his people. 
 
 SEPTEMBER 7, 1863. 
 RET. MR. WATERSxoy. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, Allow me to introduce to you the bearer of this, Mr. 
 A. M. Lafferty, who, though of African descent, gives little indication of 
 his nativity. By the testimonials he will lay before you, you will see that 
 he has graduated with high honors at the University in Toronto, as a
 
 112 
 
 mathematical and classical scholar. His case is one possessing peculiar 
 interest ; and at the request of Mr. George B. Emerson, he calls upon you 
 prior to the meeting of the Educational Commission, on Wednesday next, 
 and with reference to the elevation of the freed people of the South. 
 Yours, for light and liberty, 
 
 WILLIAM LLOYD GAHRISON. 
 
 This gives us a glimpse of Mr. Emerson, in one of his many labors 
 connected with the Educational Commission, and suggests, in some 
 degree, the spirit of the times.
 
 GEORGE B. EMERSON AND KING'S CHAPEL. 
 
 MR. EMERSON, through all the years of his Boston life, was 
 not only a constant attendant at the services of this ancient 
 and historical church, reaching back into the colonial days, 
 but as an honored and beloved member, became the recipient 
 of many tokens of confidence and respect. The following 
 statement is by the Rev. Henry W. Foote, the pastor of the 
 church. In an accompanying note 'he says : 
 
 MY DEAU MR. WATERSTON, I am much gratified by your 
 request, and shall be glad of the opportunity to send you something 
 about our dear old friend Mr. Emerson, especially in his parish 
 relations at King's Chapel. 
 
 With sincerest regard, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 HENRY W. FOOTE. 
 
 " Mr. George B. Emerson was, through all the active days 
 of his city life, a constant attendant at King's Chapel. He 
 was the chosen friend of the Rev. Dr. Greenwood, whose 
 tastes in natural history he shared. To him he looked as 
 the religious teacher who most satisfied his spiritual nature. 
 It is a special pleasure to speak of one who so earnestly loved 
 this church, and who became identified with its best thoughts 
 and interests. He was a member of the vestr} r from 1841 
 to 1866, being also junior warden in 184344, and senior 
 warden from 1845 to 1853, and again from 1863 to 1866. 
 
 " The impressive duty was delegated to him of inducting 
 the Rev. Dr. Ephraim Peabody into his official relations as 
 minister of the gospel in this place. He was intrusted with 
 the same duty when the present pastor was publicly inducted 
 into his office. It is the custom of this ancient church, at the 
 
 15
 
 114 
 
 installation of its ministers, that the sermon in which the 
 new clergyman addresses the people shall be preceded by 
 an address from the senior warden ; to this the pastor makes 
 a brief reply. The minister is then presented with a Bible, 
 as containing the holy oracles of Almighty God, a due 
 observance being solemnly enjoined of all the precepts therein 
 contained, particularly those connected with the duty and 
 office of a minister of Jesus Christ. 
 
 " No more striking proof can be given of the respect in 
 which Mr. Emerson was held by the church and congregation 
 than the fact that he was thus requested, on occasions of 
 such importance, to act as their representative. 
 
 "All the daily duties of his life exemplified his professions 
 here. His work as a teacher was a perpetual self-consecra- 
 tion to the highest purposes of existence. To the cause of 
 education he brought fine gifts of talent and culture. This 
 work he ennobled as a calling for all who should come after 
 him. For thirty years, with wonderful success, he devoted 
 himself to that genuine education which consists in the de- 
 velopment of the intellectual, moral, and religious powers ; 
 and he thus trained more than one generation of the best 
 women in the community to an intelligent interest in all that 
 is good, whether in literature or in life. His shaping im- 
 press is seen in the characters of many, now in middle life 
 or beyond it, who are acknowledged as among the noblest 
 and most useful members of society throughout the country. 
 
 " The personal quality of the man was felt in all that he 
 did. Animated by enthusiasm and free from selfishness, he 
 was ever ready to contribute valuable aid, whether in the field 
 of public duty or literary service, and was quick to answer 
 each appeal that was so fortunate as to gain his approval in 
 the multifarious calls of philanthropy. Thus every good per- 
 son and every worthy cause found in him a friend. Sparing 
 upon himself, he was lavish of his means and his time to all 
 that touched his sympathy. With such a spirit it was natural 
 that he should hold the relationship of counsellor and friend 
 to very many who felt that they owed to him the opening of 
 a better life.
 
 115 
 
 " Certainly no one connected with the society, where, 
 through so many years, I have enjoyed the privilege of his 
 counsel and friendship, has been more desirous to see the 
 church warm with charity and alive with good works ; full of 
 faith and of prayer. 
 
 " Through his whole life he was loyal to the Master of 
 Christendom in the spirit of a little child. 
 
 " To King's Chapel, as his place of worship, he became 
 strongly attached in his early manhood, and with continued 
 love and devotion he gladly attended its services until pre- 
 vented by the infirmities of age. In his greatly advanced 
 years, the shadows of earth fell about him for a little, before 
 he passed into the Eternal Light."
 
 MEN OF THOUGHT, 
 
 WHO PREPARED THE WAY FOR WHAT WAS TO FOLLOW. 
 
 PREVIOUS to the commencement of this century there ap- 
 peared to prevail a general apathy in regard to the physical 
 sciences. The minds of men, if they were active, were pre- 
 occupied by other themes. Shadows, as in twilight, seemed 
 resting over all. Suddenly thought was aroused. A rapid 
 development took place on every side ; it was like the open- 
 ing of spring after winter. Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, 
 and Newton, in their time, had done a marvellous work, a 
 work destined to affect all coming generations. What they 
 achieved had been in a measure recognized, and was be- 
 coming more and more fully understood ; so that their names 
 are shining to-day over the civilized world with the bright- 
 ness of the sun. Nothing they discovered will ever sink 
 into oblivion. Not one truth will be forgotten. The full 
 result only waits for the right moment. When minds gifted 
 with sufficient comprehension shall arrive, then whatever 
 has been once seen, will again stand unveiled. But if there 
 is no appreciating mind, the truth may tarry for a thousand 
 years, and will be found as fresh at the end of that time as it 
 was at the beginning. It is the seeing eye and the rightly 
 observing mind that is needed. 
 
 In this opening century minds full of vitality were at 
 work. Then it was found that all that had been uttered 
 through the ages was quite at the service of such as could 
 use it. It was as if the very keys of the kingdom of heaven 
 had opened celestial doors, and offered up freely its untold 
 treasures. A new era had evidently dawned. The human
 
 117 
 
 mind was eager to grapple with truth ; the great mass of the 
 people were longing for a larger development of intellectual 
 power. So intense was the mental activity that electric 
 influences appeared to fill the very air. 
 
 It is interesting to turn to those men of thought who at the 
 time of Mr. Emerson's birth, or immediately before, were 
 preparing the way for what was to follow. 
 
 Only nineteen years had passed since Linnaeus was still 
 pursuing his botanical researches, with that originality and 
 devotion which have made his name immortal ; sending an 
 impetus not only through Sweden, but over countries far 
 remote. Watt and Stevenson were busily engaged in their 
 great mechanical discoveries ; Laplace, with unflagging zeal, 
 was investigating various physical phenomena, and solving 
 hitherto baffling problems in mathematical science ; Cuvier, 
 at twenty-eight years of age, had been elected a member of 
 the National Institute of France, in recognition of his intel- 
 lectual achievements ; Alexander von Humboldt, born the 
 same year with Cuvier, having finished his studies at the 
 university, had taken his first scientific journey with his friend 
 Foster on the Rhine, and completed his earliest pamphlet. 
 The year that Emerson was born, Humboldt, in the vigor of 
 his twenty-fifth year, was at Jena, in friendly intercourse with 
 Goethe and Schiller. Goethe, on his return to Weimar, 
 writes : "' My natural history studies have been roused from 
 their winter sleep by Humboldt's presence." And Schiller 
 dwells upon Humboldt's kindling enthusiasm in the prospect 
 of his proposed travels through Italy, Spain, and America. 
 Sir Humphry Davy was a young man just entering seriously 
 upon the study of chemistry. When Emerson was twenty- 
 three, Davy was elected president of the Royal Society and 
 when he was thirt3~-two, Davy had finished his brilliant 
 career. In 1812, when Emerson was fifteen, Faraday became, 
 through Sir Humphry Davy's appointment, assistant in the 
 laboratory of the Royal Institution. It was with reference to 
 this that in after years, when Davy was asked what he 
 counted as his chief discovery, he replied that he had always 
 considered his greatest discovery was Michael Faraday !
 
 118 
 
 Arago was Mr. Emerson's senior by eleven years, while Sir 
 John Herschel was his senior but five years ; both were in 
 active service through nearly all of Mr. Emerson's life, the 
 latter dying exactly ten years before him. Charles Darwin 
 was born when Emerson was eleven years old. He made his 
 first contribution to natural history in 1826, when Emerson 
 was twenty-nine years of age ; he died in 1882, aged seventy- 
 three, one year after Emerson, and his name is now inscribed 
 in Westminster Abbe}*, near that of Sir Isaac Newton. Thus 
 did Emerson live to see Davy and Darwin, Humboldt and 
 Herschel, Babbage and Buckland, Spencer, Huxley, and Tyn- 
 dall, and a host of others, all earnestly engaged in specu- 
 lative thought, and untiring in their scientific investigations. 
 As we reflect, such minds multiply and brighten, like the 
 constellations of Orion and the Pleiades, and the great belt of 
 the Milky Way, stretching across the whole heavens.
 
 EMERSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 LIVING MEN OF THE TIME EFFICIENT IN ACCOMPLISHING 
 
 RESULTS. 
 
 THERE is no necessity of looking exclusively beyond the 
 Atlantic. Here, also, there were gifted natures partaking the 
 same intellectual activity, each fulfilling some essential part in 
 the mental and scientific movement of the time. They all 
 helped to create the stimulus that imparted such unwonted 
 impulse to the public mind. Their penetrating observation 
 and searching inquiry led the way to the results which fol- 
 lowed. This is the more impressive when we limit our 
 thought to those who were nearly of the same age with Mr. 
 Emerson, and when we reflect upon them and upon him, both 
 as yet in their childhood, yet soon destined to take prominent 
 positions, and to be united not only in spirit, but to be social 
 co-workers together. 
 
 It is marvellous how Providence not only anticipates ap- 
 proaching events, but provides for them. There is a time 
 of preparation, and then appears a scientific truth to meet it. 
 At the needed time come also the proper minds to fulfil the 
 requirements. We look around and find a period of active 
 thought. There is a widespread earnestness for progress. 
 Literature makes its demand ; science puts in its claims ; 
 wide fields are open for investigation. But who will be found 
 to work in them ? When we look again, this thought comes 
 home to us. Here are little creatures rocked as yet in their 
 cradles, can they be the ones who are to meet the needed 
 requirement ? It seems at first incredible, and yet it is most 
 true. Those infants, so helpless to-day, are to become speedily
 
 120 
 
 the intellectual leaders of their time. Fitted for their special 
 work, that work will be effectively and worthily done. They 
 will impress themselves upon the age, and leave a name which 
 will be the admiration of coming generations. 
 
 Let us glance at some of the young people of that day, 
 when with Emerson they were all children together. Who 
 then could have conjectured what they were presently to 
 become as they ripened into manhood ? 
 
 First, we may recall one who, when Emerson was born, was 
 not yet one year of age ; through life their friendship was to 
 be unbroken. Not only as valued friends were they to be 
 bound together, but as cordial sympathizers and supporters 
 in an especial manner of the great cause of education ; and 
 eacli to leave a reputation unrivalled in his own department 
 of thought. When George B. Emerson was born, Horace 
 Mann was an infant in his first year. In due time that child 
 became an influential member of the State Senate ; at Mr. 
 Emerson's solicitation he resigned his position as its President, 
 and accepted the office of Secretary of the Board of Education, 
 which office he held for twelve years, crowding each day with 
 valuable labor and leaving his voluminous Reports as an 
 enduring monument to his fame. 
 
 Benjamin Peirce was born twelve years after Emerson. 
 He was appointed tutor in Harvard College in 1831, Profes- 
 sor of Natural Philosophy in 1833, Professor of Mathematics 
 and Astronomy in 1842. For thirty-five years he shed con- 
 tinued lustre over the academic department of the College, 
 in addition to which he rendered invaluable service to the 
 nation through the labors of the Coast Survey, of which sur- 
 vey he was chosen superintendent in 1867, holding that office 
 for seven years ; and, associated as he was with the ablest men 
 in the country, all will admit that none were more able than 
 himself. 
 
 Louis Agassiz, born in Switzerland in 1807, was ten years 
 younger than Emerson. Thus, while Emerson was working 
 on the farm and in the garden, Agassiz's life had not even 
 commenced. In after years, when Agassiz had acquired a
 
 121 
 
 European reputation, and when he had decided to make the 
 American Republic his adopted home, Mr. Emerson visited 
 the town of Neufchatel, near which Agassiz was born. " From 
 a hill," he writes, " not two miles from his former home, I had 
 a view of the lake and the plains, and the mountains beyond, 
 which I now recall as one of the wildest, most varied, and 
 most exquisite I have ever seen. Agassiz there grew up to 
 a love of the beautiful." Having studied at Heidelberg and 
 Munich, and pursued various researches abroad, he crossed the 
 Atlantic in 1846 ; and from that time he devoted himself to 
 the study of natural history as seen on the American con- 
 tinent. One of his first friendships was with George B. 
 Emerson, a friendship which continued fresh and unbroken 
 for twenty-seven years. * 
 
 Who that could have looked upon these three children in 
 their infancy would have ventured to predict the great work 
 they would each accomplish ? With their individual peculiari- 
 ties they filled their separate spheres, as if Nature knew 
 precisely what was required, and, endowing each mind with 
 the exact gifts which were requisite, had sent them on their 
 appointed mission, all separate, yet all in harmony. 
 
 The year that Mr. Emerson was born there were two stu- 
 dents in Harvard University, both of whom were destined to 
 fill most conspicuous positions. William E. Channing and 
 Joseph Story were at that time about seventeen years of age 
 classmates, and now in their last year at college. As Mr. 
 Emerson's friends, the three were to be united together 
 in many benevolent plans, and by sympathy and hearty co- 
 operation they were to be the promoters of the same great 
 principles. The name of Dr. Channing is now held in honor 
 over the whole world for his consummate genius, his delicate 
 and refined thought, and his unsurpassed eloquence ; while 
 Joseph Story, as Associate Judge of the United States Supreme 
 Court, achieved both a European and an American reputation. 
 
 Among those who commenced life at about the same time 
 with Mr. Emerson, and who, residing in the same community, 
 became in various ways associated with him, was William H. 
 
 16
 
 122 
 
 Prescott, who was but one year his senior. Few could feel 
 more interest than Mr. Emerson in those researches of Mr. 
 Prescott which were to give him a permanent place among 
 the most distinguished writers of his time. The incomparable 
 History of "Ferdinand and Isabella," of "Philip the Second," 
 with the Histories of "Mexico" and "Peru," have been trans- 
 lated into every language of Europe. Who that in 1796 
 looked upon the child in its cradle, or that saw him in man- 
 hood, nearly bereft of sight, could have imagined a life of 
 literary toil, crowned by such marvellous success? 
 
 Another name identified with American history, and pleas- 
 antly associated with Mr. Emerson, is that of Jared Sparks, 
 whose extensive editorial labors are universally known. He 
 was eight years of age when Emerson was born. In 1809 he 
 was teacher of a district school ; and at that time, his means 
 being very limited, to increase his funds he undertook to 
 shingle a barn for ten dollars. Having studied at Harvard 
 University, he filled there the office of Professor of History 
 for ten years, and in 1849 was chosen President of the Col- 
 lege. Such were the friends who, by similarity of taste and 
 by kindred literary pursuits, were brought into close and 
 constant intercourse with each other. 
 
 Among the names associated with Mr. Emerson, in that 
 formative period of American literature, is that of Richard H. 
 Dana, who was a lad ten years of age when Emerson was 
 born. Educated at Harvard University he afterwards studied 
 law. In 1814 he was a member of the club by whom the 
 " North American Review " was originated. He was at one 
 time an associate editor of that periodical, contributing to it 
 many valuable papers. His "Buccaneer," "Dying Raven," 
 "Idle Man," and "Lectures on Shakspeare," all stamped 
 themselves upon the public mind, and helped to give a 
 character to the time in which they appeared. 
 
 While Emerson was in his infancy, Washington Allston 
 was eighteen years of age and had been in college one year. 
 Allston had passed some time at Newport, where he had be- 
 come well acquainted with Malbone, celebrated for his exquisite 
 painting in miniature ; after which Allston went to Europe,
 
 123 
 
 studying for eight years the works of the great masters, and in 
 cordial friendship with Thorwaldsen and Coleridge, who were 
 both with Allston in Rome, and with whom he enjoyed the 
 most delightful intercourse. So much was Allston respected 
 in his art that he was called by artists in Italy the " American 
 Titian." On his return from Europe, he resided at Cam- 
 bridge ; and Mr. Emerson was one who could not only appre- 
 ciate his delicate refinement, but sympathize with his poetic 
 genius, and respond with profound feeling to the masterly 
 delineations of his pencil. 
 
 There was a boy three years old at the time of Emerson's 
 infancy, residing in the town of Cummington, who answered 
 to the name of William C. Bryant. No one yet had heard 
 of " The Ages," the " Thanatopsis," the " Water Fowl," 
 "The Future Life." Undeveloped capabilities were there. 
 But who could foretell the inspiring influence which would 
 kindle the sacred flame ? Who at that time could prophesy 
 that the noblest aspirations of humanity would find through 
 him immortal utterance, that the rivulet, the sky, the 
 mountain, and the forest would doubly live in his language ? 
 The life of Mr. Emerson and Mr. Bryant ran in parallel 
 lines. They occupied about the same space. They held 
 upon many subjects similar views, and were guided by kindred 
 principles. They were alike earnest, persevering, truthful, 
 widely different, and yet singularly similar, showing how 
 wonderfully the work of Providence is perfected through 
 various instrumentalities. 
 
 George B. Emerson was ten years old when Henry W. 
 Longfellow was born. Both lived in the same neighborhood, 
 on the borders of the Atlantic ; one in Wells, a country town, 
 and one in the city of Portland. The lines written by Long- 
 fellow on his birthplace, could be repeated by both with equal 
 appropriateness : 
 
 " Often I think of the beautiful town 
 
 That is seated by the sea ; 
 Often in thought go up and down 
 The pleasant streets of that dear old town 
 And my youth comes back to me."
 
 124 
 
 In their whole life Henry W. Longfellow and George B. 
 Emerson had much in common. Xhey shared alike an intense 
 love for Nature, with clear perception investigating carefully 
 her works, and interpreting, through them, the thoughts of 
 the Divine Mind. They mutually enjoyed the privileges of 
 a college life, and both devoted themselves earnestly to the 
 education of others. If Mr. Emerson could not embody, in 
 language, " The Psalm of Life," he could give it fit illustra- 
 tion in his own daily experience. 
 
 Few names in our literature are as widely known as that 
 of Washington Irving, who at the time of Emerson's birth 
 was a boy fourteen years of age, attending in New York the 
 day school of Jonathan Fisk in Beekman Street, a few doors 
 below Nassau Street. Every book that Irving had given to 
 the world, Emerson had welcomed, from the " Sketch Book " 
 and Knickerbocker's " New York " to the " Life of Columbus " 
 and of "Washington." Emerson was twenty -two years of age 
 when the "Sketch Book " made its appearance, which burst at 
 once into universal popularity. Mr. Emerson was thirty-one 
 years of age when the " Life of Christopher Columbus " was 
 published; and not until Mr. Emerson was about sixty did 
 Irving's latest work appear. When Irving was six years of 
 age it was said to be difficult to teach him the alphabet. 
 But when once acquired, has any one yet appeared who has 
 made better use of it? 
 
 These are a few, out of many, of Mr. Emerson's contempo- 
 raries, who may be said to have created the literary atmos- 
 phere in which he lived, and most of whom were his warm 
 personal friends, his intimate associates, and his cordial co- 
 workers.
 
 THE DEPAKTED. 
 
 OH, might some heavenly hand 
 Draw back the shadowy curtains of the sky, 
 
 That once that glorious band 
 Of bright angelic souls could meet the eye ! 
 
 But they are with us still 
 In thought and deed ; yes, they are with us here, 
 
 To sanctify the will, 
 To soothe each grief, and calm each idle fear. 
 
 At the soft sunset hour, 
 When evening splendors melt along the sky, 
 
 We feel their hallowing power 
 To kindle faith and raise the heart on high. 
 
 R. C. W.
 
 THE TRUE INSTRUCTOR. 
 
 WHO is the Faithful Teacher ? He whose heart 
 
 Is ever in his work, who slights no part 
 
 Of his great trust, who seeks with power to teach 
 
 That which shall gain the highest good for each : 
 
 Not quantity, but quality, he asks ; 
 
 A cheerful offering, and not servile tasks ! 
 
 Ideas and principles by him are taught, 
 
 Inspiring Truth, and ever-quickening Thought ! 
 
 Dutj r with him is no ignoble strife ; 
 
 His joyous spirit overflows with Life, 
 
 While the glad sunshine of his nature streams 
 
 Around, till all are kindled by its beams. 
 
 And more, far more, with him the loftiest plan 
 Is that which forms the noblest type of MAN ; 
 That which shall stand the test of future hours 
 In balanced will, and well-directed powers : 
 Such is the teacher whom the State should crown ; 
 Worthy of LOVE and HOMAGE and RENOWN 1 
 
 R. C. W.
 
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