f his
Four Surplices, and Two Centuries of _Hypocrisis_ (or Play-acting _not_
so-called), and put-up with all that, the best we may. The Genius of
England no longer soars Sunward, world-defiant, like an Eagle through
the storms, "mewing her mighty youth," as John Milton saw her do: the
Genius of England, much liker a greedy Ostrich intent on provender and a
whole skin mainly, stands with its _other_ extremity Sunward; with its
Ostrich-head stuck into the readiest bush, of old Church-tippets,
King-cloaks, or what other "sheltering Fallacy" there may be, and _so_
awaits the issue. The issue has been slow; but it is now seen to have
been inevitable. No Ostrich, intent on gross terrene provender, and
sticking its head into Fallacies, but will be awakened one day,--in a
terrible _a-posteriori_ manner, if not otherwise!----Awake before it
come to that; gods and men bid us awake! The Voices of our Fathers, with
thousand-fold stern monition to one and all, bid us awake.

FOOTNOTES:

[M] The author's use of capital letters and punctuation marks has
been retained.

LVIII. EACH AND ALL.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.--1803-1882.

Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloak'd clown
Of thee from the hill-top looking down;
The heifer that lows in the upland farm,
Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm;
The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,
Deems not that great Napoleon
Stops his horse, and lists with delight,
While his files sweep round yon Alpine height;
Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent.
All are needed by each one--
Nothing is fair or good alone.

I thought the sparrow's note from heaven,
Singing at dawn on the alder bough;
I brought him home in his nest, at even,
He sings the song, but it pleases not now;
For I did not bring home the river and sky;
He sang to my ear--they sang to my eye.

The delicate shells lay on the shore;
The bubbles of the latest wave
Fresh pearls to their enamel gave,
And the bellowing of the savage sea
Greeted their safe escape to me.
I wiped away the weeds and foam--
I fetch'd my sea-born treasures home;
But the poor unsightly, noisome things
Had left their beauty on the shore,
With the sun and the sand, and the wild uproar.

The lover watch'd his graceful maid,
As 'mid the virgin train she stray'd;
Nor knew her beauty's best a