mortal curiosity for noble knowledge the fruit of
which enriches his writings. Upon his modestly deprecating brows was
already set the wreath of a world-wide fame, and yet every village
farmer and store-keeper, and every child, found in his conversation the
wisdom and companionship suited to his needs, and was made to feel
that his own companionship was a valued gift. Emerson becomes more
extraordinary the further we get away from him in years; illustrating
the truth which Landor puts into the mouth of Barrow in one of his
Imaginary Conversations, that "No very great man ever reached the
standard of his greatness in the crowd of his contemporaries: this hath
always been reserved for the secondary." The wealth contained in his
essays has only begun to be put in general circulation, and the harvest
of his poetry is still more remote; while the sincere humility of the
man himself, who was the best incarnate example of many of his ideals,
still puzzles those critics who believe every one must needs be inferior
to his professions.

"Though I am fond of writing and of public speaking," said Emerson, "I
am a very poor talker, and for the most part prefer silence"; and he
went on to compare himself in this respect with Alcott, "the prince of
conversers." Alcott was undoubtedly the prince of fluency, and
Emerson rarely, in private dialogue, ventured to string together many
consecutive sentences; but the things he did say, on small occasion or
great, always hit the gold. On being appealed to, or when his turn came,
he would hang a moment in the wind, and then pay off before the
breeze of thought with an accuracy and force that gave delight with
enlightenment. The form was often epigrammatic, but the air with which
it was said beautifully disclaimed any epigrammatic consciousness or
intention. It was, rather, "I am little qualified to speak adequately,
but this, at least, does seem to me to be true." In the end, therefore,
as the interlocutor thought it all over, he was perhaps surprised to
discover that, little in quantity as Emerson may have said during the
talk, he had yet said more than any one else in substance. But it may be
admitted that he was even better in listening than in speech; his
look, averted but attentive, with a smile which seemed to postpone full
development to the moment when his companion should have uttered the
expected apple of gold in the picture of silver, was subtly stimulating
to the latter's intellect,