Nevertheless, in the following year he brought out “May-Day,” a long poem, the freshest and most youthful in tone of any that he had written, accompanied by many other pieces, some of which had appeared previously. In the next three years, 1868-'70, he read at Harvard a number of lectures on “The Natural History of the Mind,” which have not been collected. The essays entitled “Society and Solitude” were published in 1870. They are noticeable for an easy, almost conversational tone, differing remarkably from the earlier published essays and “English Traits.” The same is true of “Letters and Social Aims” (1875). Emerson's method of composition was to jot down notes from reading and observation, which were entered in a commonplace book, with a memorandum on the margin. From this he drew the material for his lectures, which, heard from the platform, were flowing in style and clear in sequence. When he prepared them for publication, much of the incidental matter and connecting links were struck out. The latest two volumes were arranged for the press when the author, growing old, gave them a less rigorous revision, and relied upon help from others. In 1870 and 1871 he wrote introductions to a translation of Plutarch's “Morals” and W. E. Channing's poem “The Wanderer.” “Parnassus,” a collection of poems by British and American authors, was brought out, with a short introduction, in 1874. Emerson was nominated in the latter year for the lord-rectorship of Glasgow university by the independents, and was defeated by a vote of 500 in his favor against 700 for Benjamin Disraeli. In 1875 he made a short address at the unveiling of French's statue of “The Minute-Man” on the Concord battle-field. He responded to an invitation from two societies of the University of Virginia in 1876 by lecturing to them on “The Scholar.” In March, 1878, he read a paper at the Old South church, Boston, on “The Fortune of the Republic,” in which, commenting with sagacity on current tendencies in the national life, he said: “Let the passion for America cast out the passion for Europe.” The same year he printed in the “North American Review” “The Sovereignty of Ethics”; in 1879 he read “The Preacher” in Divinity college, Cambridge, and an essay on “Superlatives” was published in “The Century” magazine for February, 1882, shortly before his death. Two posthumous volumes of essays and reminiscences have appeared: “Miscellanies,” and “Lectures and Biographical Sketches”; and many brief poems heretofore unpublished have been included in a new edition.
In July, 1872, Emerson's house at Concord was
partly destroyed by fire. This shock hastened the
decline of his mental powers, which had already
set in, and impaired his health. His friends
spontaneously asked to be allowed to rebuild the house,
and deposited in bank for him over $11,000, at
the same time suggesting that he go abroad for
rest and change. With his daughter Ellen he
visited England and the Nile, and returned to
Concord in May, 1873, to find his house rebuilt,
and so perfectly restored to its former state that
few could have discovered any change (see view on
page 346). Welcomed by the citizens in a mass, he
drove to his home, passing beneath a triumphal
arch erected in his honor, amid general rejoicing.
After 1867 Emerson wrote no poems, and little prose, but revised his poetry and arranged the “Selected Poems.” Always inclined to slow speech, sometimes pausing for a word, he succumbed to a gradual aphasia, which made it difficult for him to converse. He forgot the names of persons and things. He had some difficulty in discriminating printed letters, and for the last five years of his life was unable to conduct correspondence. Yet he read through all his own published works “with much interest and surprise,” and tried to arrange his manuscripts, which he examined thoroughly. He also, following his custom of reading a paper annually before the Concord lyceum, gave there, in 1880, his hundredth lecture to the local audience. On that occasion the several hundred people in the hall spontaneously arose at his entrance and remained standing until he had taken his place on the platform. He took an interest in the Concord school of philosophy, organized in 1880, and supplied to its sessions an essay on “Natural Aristocracy.” Most of these later productions were put together from portions of earlier compositions. Throughout this time of decline he retained the perfect courtesy and consideration for others that had always characterized him. He was apparently quite able to comprehend the essence of things around him, and, to a certain extent, ideas; but the verbal means of communication were lost. He had so long regarded language and visible objects as mere symbols, that the symbols at last melted away and eluded him. He continued to read everything in printed form that he found upon his table, whispering the words over like a child, and was fond of pointing out pictures in books. In April, 1882, he took a severe cold, and, attended by his son, Dr. Edward Waldo Emerson, died of pneumonia. He was buried in the cemetery at Concord, near the graves of Hawthorne and Thoreau, in ground over which he had often walked and talked with them and with Margaret Fuller.
Emerson was tall and slender, not of robust physique, rather sallow in the face, with an aquiline nose, brown hair, and eyes of the “strongest and brightest blue.” His head was below the average in circumference, long, narrow, but more nearly equal in anterior and posterior breadth than most heads. His appearance was majestic. He was calm, kindly in expression, and frequently smiled, but seldom laughed. His manners were dignified but exquisitely simple. He was a ready listener, and often seemed to prefer listening, as if he were to be instructed rather than to instruct. He rarely showed irritation. His hospitality was almost unbounded, and he frequently waited upon the humblest of his guests with his own hands. He was never well-to-do until in his latest years. In 1838 he wrote to Carlyle that he possessed about $22,000 at interest, and could earn $800 in a winter by lecturing, but never had a dollar “to spend on a fancy.” He worked hard every summer writing, and every winter travelling and lecturing. His habits were regular and his diet frugal, the only peptic luxury in which he indulged being pie at breakfast. Every morning was spent in his study, and he would go all day without food unless called to eat. His bed-time was ten o'clock, but, if engaged in literary work, he would sit up until one or two, and was able to do this night after night. He fulfilled the duties of a citizen by attending town-meetings punctiliously. Much question has been made whether Emerson was rather a poet than a philosopher, or whether he was a philosopher at all. An exact philosopher he was not; but all that he wrote and said was based upon philosophic ideas. He was an intellectual rather than an emotional mystic, an idealist who insisted upon the application of idealism to the affairs of daily life. He believed that “Nature is the incarnation of a thought. . . . The world is mind pre-
