Literature is the most satisfactory of all professions, but it is also
the most difficult to succeed in. The high-minded writer easily finds
themes congenial to his own lofty thoughts, and in the contemplation of
these and the companionship of fine books he escapes the weariness and
loneliness which often pursue those who are engaged in the busiest
avocations. His life is like working in a rose-garden: beautiful images
are always before him. His time is his own: he can arrange his own hours
for study, rest, and recreation. Especially he can avoid the friction
and annoyance of dealing with rude and uncongenial people.
But how is he to persuade others to take an interest in these subjects?
The currents of men's thoughts run in certain habitual channels, and to
change their course, as every writer who becomes popular is sure to do,
is sometimes as great an undertaking as changing the bed of a river. It
requires many years for some to be appreciated, and others never are.
"We know those who have reached the goal, but who can tell how many have
fallen by the way?" Emerson's term of probation, however, was a short
one. More fortunate than many, there was a demand for him before he
came. Besides the so-called transcendental movement carried him forward
in a swift current. He said of it: "At first everybody laughed at me.
Then I had ten readers; then a hundred; and then a thousand.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104