Throughout “Nature”, Emerson’s ministry background is evident, but it is especially clear in the “Introduction”. Like a minister, enlivened by his faith, he asks countless rhetorical questions of the reader, like a preacher to his congregation. “Why should we not have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not a history of theirs?” This is his initial call for spirituality based on the direct observation of nature, instead of through texts or prophets. Again, playing the good minister, he clarifies his terminology, stating that “Nature” is that which is external to ourselves, “essences unchanged by man; space, the air, the river, the leaf.”
A reoccurring pattern throughout the text is the notion that spirituality and connecting to the divine is achieved by a communion with the sublime. In essence, forgive the rhyme, the sublime is linked to the divine. In “Chapter 1. Nature”, Emerson jumps immediately into the sublime.
“…if a man would be alone let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give a man, in the heavenly bodies, the perceptual presence of the sublime.”
Part of what makes “Nature” so divinely sublime, for Emerson, are her unknowable secrets. “Neither does the wisest man exhort her secret, and lose curiosity by finding out all her perfection.” Key to his understanding of the sublime is the idea that nature cannot be owned, or possessed, only linked by those with open eyes. “There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet.” Also present in Chapter 1, is the image of Nature as a return to childhood, an escape from the sorrows of adult life. “In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows.” “ In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child.” This return to childhood or a return to innocence, can be interpreted as a means of connecting with the divine. Children by nature, in their naivety and innocence, are often associated with being more closely connected to the divine, and in this case, the sublime.
The woods, or nature, are described as a kind of vehicle to the divine. In them, one can return to grace and connect with the “ perfection of creation” and God. “Within these plantations of God, a decorum of sanctity reign…In the woods, we return to reason and faith…no disgrace, no calamity, which nature cannot repair…all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.” In Chapter 7, “ Spirit”, Emerson continues in a similar vain, suggesting “..the noblest ministry of nature is to stand as the apparition to God. It is the the organ through which the universal spirit speaks to the individual…”
When Emerson’s notions of intuitive, personal revelation were poorly received both in his Harvard address and in “Nature’s” earliest publication, his friend and contemporary Transcendentalist, Amos Bronson Alcott said that “Emerson’s church consists of one member — himself.” But centuries later, his work continues to inspire a following, a kind of disenfranchised congregation of people like myself, who find happiness and divinity in nature, specifically the sublime. I can only speak for myself, but I cannot fathom a temple more perfect, a church more inspiring of worship, than nature. “The happiest man is he who learns from nature the lesson of worship.”
There are two points that catch my attention in this post. First, I appreciate the notion that man can work the earth, yet he does not, nor will he ever, own it fully. We are simply guests of this world, each generation using and sharing the same resources that mankind has used for thousands of years. Second, I support the idea of a natural setting as being a most divine sanctuary place. While I was not in worship, I’ve found myself using the tranquility of a forest or meadow as a place to think and reflect. Good post.
Dominic, your use of the word “guests” is interesting in light of Chloe’s post about Emerson, particularly in that in the passage that Chloe cites, Emerson also uses the word guest: “In the words, is perpetual youth… a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should tire of them in a thousand years” (Emerson, 29). Of course the word “guest” has multiple valences and suggests a joyous occasion (or festival), a transitory state (guests arrive and then leave), as well as an ethical relationship to place. This last point is what I think your comment is addressing. Both of you might want to pursue these ideas further and particularly through the lens of ecocentrism/anthropocentrism; in particular, in what ways is Emerson being anthropocentric or in what ways is he being ecocentric in this section of his essay?