Literary Ethics (1838) by Ralph Waldo Emerson & Conformity, False Consistency, & the Virgin Universe

Literary Ethics (1838) by Ralph Waldo Emerson is an oration which he delivered before the Literary Societies of Dartmouth College on July 24, 1838 and the speech was subsequently published in book form that same year.

The Address (in book form) is a brief & concise eighteen pages and can be found for free [Literary Ethics: here at this link in pdf].

A few other speech-essay-books by Emerson include “The American Scholar” (1837), “History” (1841), “Self-Reliance” (1841), and “The Over-Soul” (1841).

The main theme of Literary Ethics (address or essay — depending on how one perceives it) is an “Ode to the Perseverance of the Scholar.” The formal speech sounds more like a modern-day pep talk for academics who, then and now, must labor under the heavy weight of the world’s eyes while working all alone. Emerson calls for the Scholar to enjoy the hardships and take comfort (and joy, if possible) in the struggles a Scholar faces year in and year out.

The three main sections in relation to the Scholar are (a) Resources of the Scholar (p 3), (b) the Intellect (or the Subject) of the Scholar (p 7), and (c) the Independence & Solitude of the Scholar (p 11).  

Resources of the Scholar

In this first section, Emerson calls Plato, Shakespeare, and Milton “three irrefragable facts” who, including Spinoza & Plotinus, are the “immortal bards of philosophy” (p 5). These scholars and philosophers are used as the prime example for the Scholar to strive towards, reminding the Scholar of Today that each individual, then and now, is but a “successful diver in that sea whose floor of pearls is all your own” & that though these men, and others, are giants among their own right, it is the “impoverishing philosophy of ages [that] has laid stress on the distinctions of the individual, and not on the universal attributes of man” (p 5).

So, it is up to every individual Scholar to be the “diver of pearls”, and to be such will divide them from all other types of individuals, then and now. Emerson connects this idea with a direct statement earlier in the lecture when he says pointblank, “Now that we are here, we will put our own interpretation on things, and our own things for interpretation… for me, things must take my scale, not I theirs” (p 4).

The Scholar should “feel that he is new” and not simply a product of the past literatures and empires and churches which have long dictated society and culture. The Scholar is not “mortgaged to the opinions and usages of Europe, and Asia, and Egypt” and the Scholar must hold a “spiritual independence” which listens to the Inner Voice which whispers, “There is a better way than this indolent learning of another. Leave me alone; do not teach me out of Leibnitz or Schelling, and I shall find it all out myself” (pgs 3-4).

The provocativeness and balanced nature of Emerson’s tone is seeking to explain and motivate to the Scholar (then and now) that, on the one hand, the Scholar of the Now should respect the scholars and philosophers (i.e., the Great Minds from Before) who in the past helped pave the way for Modern Thought, but, on the other hand, the Scholar of the Now should not be confined to these past-formed idealogues and philosophies.

The Scholar of the Now should seek his resources in the Ever-Living Present, to “draw out of the past, genuine life for the present hour” and when that is done, “through wisdom and justice” the Scholar of the Now “can put up [the] history books” (pgs 5-6).

Intellect (or the Subject) of the Scholar

Emerson continues with his train of thought on the Scholar of the Now, and how the all-encompassing Nature can inspire and fortify the Scholar.

He urges the Scholar to see that “all literature is yet to be written” and that “Poetry has scarce chanted its first song” and that Nature is telling us each day that “the world is new, untried. Do not believe the past. I give you the universe a virgin to-day” (p 8). Translation: Emerson is saying that with each new sunrise the Universe all around us becomes a Virgin.

In connection to these thoughts, see Emerson’s book-length essay called “Nature” (1836) which further highlights and illustrates a foundation of Transcendentalism which focuses on a non-traditional appreciation of Nature.

In Literary Ethics, Emerson makes it clear that people automatically “assume that all thought is already long ago adequately set down in books”, but this is not true, with Emerson describing this assumption as being “very shallow” (p 8).

Emerson further details this thought by explaining that “works of the intellect are great only by comparison with each other; Ivanhoe and Waverley compared with Castle Radcliffe and the Porter novels; but nothing is great, — not mighty Homer and Milton, — beside the infinite Reason. It carries them away as a flood. They are as a sleep” (p 11).

Emerson, a true Transcendentalist, seeks to urge others to understand that each individual should avoid conformity and false consistency (— much like how hoards & mobs of clueless people all across the world blindingly adhered, without question or challenge, to false-now-debunked narratives and embraced foolish-mindless conformity during these past strenuous and sad years of 2020 to 2022 —), and, instead, Emerson calls for each individual to follow one’s heart, to follow one’s instincts, to follow one’s own ideas, and to follow one’s own soul.

There’s no doubt in my mind that if Emerson were alive today in this Age of Social Media, Emerson would most certainly be quickly banned and censored for this kind of Rhetoric: to be at all times an Individual true to one’s Self, and not to be simply a mindless member of the Mob.

Independence & Solitude of the Scholar

In that endeavor which Emerson has mapped for the Scholar, to be Independent, Self-Reliant, and ever True to the Soul, Emerson also makes it clear that to do so, to seek non-conformity, the Scholar of the Now is going to be alone, isolated, far removed from the maddening cries of the Mob. The Scholar must become “a solitary, laborious, modest, and charitable soul. He must embrace solitude as a bride” (p 11).

Even back then, in 1838, Emerson understood how people lusted for fame, desired acclaim, and sought honors. Instead of desiring the cries of the crowd, the Scholar should go and cherish the Soul, to go and “expel companions”, to “set your habits to a life of solitude; then, will the faculties rise fair and full within, like forest trees and field flowers” (p 11).

Much like today, many a scholar and writer go into High Society seeking that warm pat on the back or the noise of the applause from those who consider themselves far more in favor of conformity and false consistency (do as you’re told, even if it’s wrong — which is the very essence of being a slave — a slave to the Liberal Hive Mind). No! screams Emerson. It’s a far greater honor to speak the truth and to be censored than to be conformed to the Mindless Mob and silenced of your own free will. “Be content with a little light, so it be your own” (p 18).

Don’t believe me? Then, listen carefully, here is Emerson in his own words:

“Silence, seclusion, austerity, may pierce deep into the grandeur and secret of our being, and so diving, bring up out of secular darkness, the sublimities of the moral constitution. How mean to go blazing, a gaudy butterfly, in fashionable or political saloons, the fool of society, the fool of notoriety, a topic for newspapers, a piece of the street, and forfeiting the real prerogative of the russet coat, the privacy, and the true and warm heart of the citizen! Fatal to the man of letters, fatal to man, is the lust of display” (p 13).

Then what is the Scholar of the Now to do? Emerson also maps out the behaviors and actions of what makes a noble scholar or artist.

“Let him first learn the things. Let him not, too eager to grasp some badge of reward, omit the work to be done. Let him know, that, though the success of the market is in the reward, true success is the doing; that, in the private obedience to his mind; in the sedulous inquiry, day after day, year after year, to know how the thing stands… to make thought solid, and life wise” (p 15).

“The good scholar will not refuse to bear the yoke in his youth; to know, if he can, the uttermost secret of toil and endurance… If he have this twofold goodness, — the drill and the inspiration, — then he has health; then he is a whole, and not a fragment; and the perfection of his endowment will appear in his composition. Indeed, this twofold merit characterizes ever the production of great masters” (p 16).

“The man of genius should occupy the whole space between God or pure mind, and the multitude of uneducated men. He must draw from the infinite Reason, on one side; and he must penetrate into the heart and sense of the crowd, on the other. From one, he must draw his strength; to the other, he must owe his aim. The one yokes him to the real; the other, to the apparent. At one pole, is Reason; at the other, Common Sense” (p 16).

“And out of this superior frankness and charity, you shall learn higher secrets of your nature, which gods will bend and aid you to communicate” (p 17).