losophy,
whose original ideas and sayings marked her as "a character." Another
woman who exercised a great influence upon him was Sarah Bradford,
afterward married to his relative, Samuel Ripley. She was as thorough
a Greek scholar as any person in America, a good mathematician, and a
diligent student of science. Many a Harvard student has she coached in
that Old Manse where she resided until her death (1867), and where the
writer of this has often listened with admiration to her extraordinary
conversation. At the same time nothing could have exceeded the
practical wisdom and tact with which her household was regulated. "She
was absolutely without pedantry," said Emerson. "Nobody ever heard of
her learning until a necessity came for its use, and then nothing
could be more simple than her solution of the problem proposed to
her." At eleven years of age, when Emerson was in the Latin school at
Boston, he used to send his translations, generally poetic, to Sarah
Bradford for criticism. The "Fates" of Michael Angelo, a large copy of
which hung in Emerson's study, must sometimes have softened to the
faces of the Ruth and Mary and Sarah, who spun for him the fine golden
thread of destiny. Mrs. Emerson had the happiness of seeing four of
her sons distinguished for their ability; indeed, it seemed for a time
doubtful whether William, Waldo, Edward, or Charles promised the more
brilliant career. When the two elder had graduated at Harvard
University, they taught at school in order to aid the two younger in
completing their course; but these two died prematurely. William was
to have been the preacher of the family, but, while pursuing his
studies in Germany, he found that he could not honestly follow his
father's profession--albeit Goethe, whom he knew, sought to persuade
him otherwise. He afterward became an eminent lawyer. His mother's
disappointment at this probably led to Emerson's adoption of the
profession that his brother had declined. He graduated at eighteen,
with a reputation for classical knowledge, general literary culture,
and elocution. He had won the Boylston prize for "declamation," and
was chosen by his class to deliver the usual poem at graduation. I
have heard him say that it was then his ambition to become a teacher
of elocution, and that he still regarded it as a less humble
aspiration than it might seem. Those who have sat under the spell of
Emerson's discourse would certainly never associate anything commonl