rson's mother was left a widow with
narrow means, and he underwent the wholesome training of frugality in
youth. When the time came, he was sent to Harvard. When Clough visited
America a generation later, the collegiate training does not appear to
have struck him very favourably. 'They learn French and history and
German, and a great many more things than in England, but only
imperfectly.' This was said from the standard of Rugby and Balliol, and
the method that Clough calls imperfect had merits of its own. The pupil
lost much in a curriculum that had a certain rawness about it, compared
with the traditional culture that was at that moment (1820) just
beginning to acquire a fresh hold within the old gray quadrangles of
Oxford. On the other hand, the training at Harvard struck fewer of those
superfluous roots in the mind, which are only planted that they may be
presently cast out again with infinite distraction and waste.

When his schooling was over, Emerson began to prepare himself for the
ministrations of the pulpit, and in 1826 and 1827 he preached in divers
places. Two years later he was ordained, and undertook the charge of an
important Unitarian Church in Boston. It was not very long before the
strain of forms, comparatively moderate as it was in the Unitarian body,
became too heavy to be borne. Emerson found that he could no longer
accept the usual view of the Communion Service, even in its least
sacramental interpretation. To him the rite was purely spiritual in
origin and intent, and at the best only to be retained as a
commemoration. The whole world, he said, had been full of idols and
ordinances and forms, when 'the Almighty God was pleased to qualify and
send forth a man to teach men that they must serve him with the heart;
that only that life was religious which was thoroughly good; that
sacrifice was smoke and forms were shadows. This man lived and died true
to that purpose; and now with his blessed word and life before us,
Christians must contend that it is a matter of vital importance, really
a duty, to commemorate him by a certain form, whether that form be
agreeable to their understandings or not. Is not this to make vain the
gift of God? Is not this to make men forget that not forms but
duties--not names but righteousness and love--are enjoined?'

He was willing to continue the service with that explanation, and on
condition that he should not himself partake of the bread and wine. The
congregation w