It pleases the understanding, but
it does not satisfy the soul. It gives us no new ideas: in fact ideas
are hateful to it.
"Time and space conquering steam,
And the light-out-speeding telegraph
Bears nothing on its beam."
Wasson's writing compared with this is as an old-time stage-coach
journey in which an interesting conversation, moral or political, is
carried on by men like Fisher Ames and Rev. David Osgood, compared with
the empty elegance and despatch of a modern railway-train. It is fresh
because it is genuine; vigorous because it is manly; and original
because it is true. He is more original than Carlyle, and so profound
that it seems as if only a pearl-diver could follow him to such a depth.
Yet his natural element is so pure, calm and tranquil, that we easily
accomplish what seems at first an impossible descent. In "Epic
Philosophy" he has dealt with the problem of good and evil in a manner
more noble and penetrating than was ever before attempted. In his essay
on the "Genius of Woman" he enters on a new and important field of
investigation, a virgin soil as yet untried. In "Unity," the greatest of
his essays, he boldly climbs the Jacob's ladder of philosophy and walks
serene among the stars, grappling even with Infinity. He had achieved
unity for himself; the one complete cosmopolitan mind of his time. In
his highest flights he is never cold or inexorable, but always human,
tender, and sympathetic.
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