oice and intervention of a personal Deity. Impulsive and
spontaneous innocence is higher than the strength to conquer temptation.
The natural motions of the soul are so much better than the voluntary
ones. 'There is no such thing as manufacturing a strong will,' for all
great force is real and elemental. In all this Emerson suffers from the
limitations that are inseparable from pure spiritualism in all its
forms. As if the spiritual constitution were ever independent of the
material organisation bestowed upon the individual at the moment when he
is conceived, or of the social conditions that close about him from the
instant of his birth. The reaction, however, against what was
superficial in the school of the eighteenth century went to its extreme
length in Emerson, and blinded his eyes to the wisdom, the profundity,
and the fruitfulness of their leading speculations. It is enough for us
to note the fact in passing, without plunging into contention on the
merits. All thoughts are always ready, potentially if not actually. Each
age selects and assimilates the philosophy that is most apt for its
wants. Institutions needed regeneration in France, and so those thinkers
came into vogue and power who laid most stress on the efficacy of good
institutions. In Emerson's America, the fortunes of the country made
external circumstances safe for a man, and his chance was assured; so a
philosophy was welcomed which turned the individual inwards upon
himself, and taught him to consider his own character and spiritual
faculty as something higher than anything external could ever be.
Again to make a use which is not uninstructive of the old tongue,
Emerson is for faith before works. Nature, he says, will not have us
fret and fume. She does not like our benevolences, our churches, our
pauper-societies, much better than she likes our frauds and wars. They
are but so many yokes to the neck. Our painful labours are unnecessary
and fruitless. A higher law than that of our will regulates events. If
we look wider, things are all alike: laws and creeds and modes of living
are a travesty of truth. Only in our easy, simple, spontaneous action
are we strong, and by contenting ourselves with obedience we become
strong. Our real action is in our silent moments. Why should we be awed
by the name of Action? 'Tis a trick of the senses.[7]
[Footnote 7: _Essays_: Spiritual Laws, etc.]
Justification by faith has had a savour of antinomianism and
ind
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