No More Learning

He swears to his art,--I will not be meddlesome, I will not have in my
writing any elegance or effect or originality to hang in the way between me
and the rest like curtains. I will have nothing hang in the way, not the
richest curtains. What I tell I tell for precisely what it is. Let who may
exalt or startle or fascinate or soothe, I will have purposes as health or
heat or snow has, and be as regardless of observation. What I experience or
pourtray shall go from my composition without a shred of my composition.
You shall stand by my side, and look in the mirror with me.

The old red blood and stainless gentility of great poets will be proved by
their unconstraint. A heroic person walks at his ease through and out of
that custom or precedent or authority that suits him not. Of the traits of
the brotherhood of writers, savans, musicians, inventors, and artists,
nothing is finer than silent defiance advancing from new free forms. In the
need of poems, philosophy, politics, mechanism, science, behaviour, the
craft of art, an appropriate native grand opera, shipcraft or any craft, he
is greatest for ever and for ever who contributes the greatest original
practical example. The cleanest expression is that which finds no sphere
worthy of itself, and makes one.

The messages of great poets to each man and woman are,--Come to us on equal
terms, only then can you understand us. We are no better than you; what we
enclose you enclose, what we enjoy you may enjoy. Did you suppose there
could be only one Supreme? We affirm there can be unnumbered Supremes, and
that one does not countervail another any more than one eyesight
countervails another--and that men can be good or grand only of the
consciousness of their supremacy within them.
What do you think is the
grandeur of storms and dismemberments, and the deadliest battles and
wrecks, and the wildest fury of the elements, and the power of the sea, and
the motion of nature, and of the throes of human desires, and dignity and
hate and love? It is that something in the soul which says,--Rage on, whirl
on, I tread master here and everywhere; master of the spasms of the sky and
of the shatter of the sea, master of nature and passion and death, and of
all terror and all pain.

The American bards shall be marked for generosity and affection and for
encouraging competitors: they shall be kosmos--without monopoly or
secrecy--glad to pass anything to any one--hungry for equals night and day.
They shall not be careful of riches and privilege,--they shall be riches
and privilege: they shall perceive who the most affluent man is. The most
affluent man is he that confronts all the shows he sees by equivalents out
of the stronger wealth of himself. The American bard shall delineate no
class of persons, nor one or two out of the strata of interests, nor love
most nor truth most, nor the soul most nor the body most; and not be for
the eastern states more than the western, or the northern states more than
the southern.

Exact science and its practical movements are no checks on the greatest
poet, but always his encouragement and support. The outset and remembrance
are there--there the arms that lifted him first and brace him best--there
he returns after all his goings and comings. The sailor and traveller, the
anatomist, chemist, astronomer, geologist, phrenologist, spiritualist,
mathematician, historian, and lexicographer, are not poets; but they are
the lawgivers of poets, and their construction underlies the structure of
every perfect poem. No matter what rises or is uttered, they send the seed
of the conception of it: of them and by them stand the visible proofs of
souls. If there shall be love and content between the father and the son,
and if the greatness of the son is the exuding of the greatness of the
father, there shall be love between the poet and the man of demonstrable
science. In the beauty of poems are the tuft and final applause of science.

Great is the faith of the flush of knowledge, and of the investigation of
the depths of qualities and things. Cleaving and circling here swells the
soul of the poet: yet is president of itself always. The depths are
fathomless, and therefore calm. The innocence and nakedness are resumed--
they are neither modest nor immodest.