The needful sinew stark as once,
The baresark marrow to thy bones,
But left a legacy of ebbing veins,
Inconstant heat and nerveless reins,--
Amid the Muses, left thee deaf and dumb,
Amid the gladiators, halt and numb.

"As the bird trims her to the gale
I trim myself to the storm of time,
I man the rudder, reef the sail,
Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime:
'Lowly faithful, banish fear,
Right onward drive unharmed;
The port, well worth the cruise, is near,
And every wave is charmed.'"

CHAPTER XI.

1868-1873. AET. 65-70.

Lectures on the Natural History of the Intellect.--Publication
of "Society and Solitude." Contents: Society and Solitude.
--Civilization.--Art.--Eloquence.--Domestic Life.--Farming.
--Works and Days.--Books.--Clubs.--Courage.--Success.--Old Age.--Other
Literary Labors.--Visit to California.--Burning of his House, and the
Story of its Rebuilding.--Third Visit to Europe.--His Reception at
Concord on his Return.

During three successive years, 1868, 1869, 1870, Emerson delivered a
series of Lectures at Harvard University on the "Natural History of the
Intellect." These Lectures, as I am told by Dr. Emerson, cost him a
great deal of labor, but I am not aware that they have been collected or
reported. They will be referred to in the course of this chapter, in an
extract from Prof. Thayer's "Western Journey with Mr. Emerson." He is
there reported as saying that he cared very little for metaphysics.
It is very certain that he makes hardly any use of the ordinary terms
employed by metaphysicians. If he does not hold the words "subject and
object" with their adjectives, in the same contempt that Mr. Ruskin
shows for them, he very rarely employs either of these expressions.
Once he ventures on the _not me_, but in the main he uses plain English
handles for the few metaphysical tools he has occasion to employ.

"Society and Solitude" was published in 1870. The first Essay in the
volume bears the same name as the volume itself.

In this first Essay Emerson is very fair to the antagonistic claims
of solitary and social life. He recognizes the organic necessity of
solitude. We are driven "as with whips into the desert." But there is
danger in this seclusion. "Now and then a man exquisitely made can live
alone and must; but coop up most men and you undo them.--Here again, as
so often, Nature delights to put us between extreme antagonisms, and
our safety is in the