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Cite this workEmerson, Mary Moody. Almanacks, 1804-1858. Northeastern University Women Writers Project, 5 Feb. 2026. https://www.wwp.northeastern.edu/texts/emerson.almanack.html.
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c. 1804 – 1858

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The Almanacks of Mary Moody Emerson: A Scholarly Digital Edition

This digital edition of the manuscript Almanacks of Mary Moody Emerson (1774–1863) adheres to editorial reporting standards established by the Modern Language Association’s Committee on Scholarly Editions. The edition is being published in phases, such that additional Almanack folders will be published semi-annually over the next few years. The editors gratefully acknowledge the support of Harvard University’s Houghton Library; Pennsylvania State University, Altoona; the Ralph Waldo Emerson Fund; the Ralph Waldo Emerson Memorial Association; and the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH). Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this edition do not necessarily represent those of the NEH. Editorial interventions that cannot be displayed in this current WWO interface include mouse-over identifications of dating; of local and historical figures; of geographical places; and of literary, historical, scientific, theological and philosophical terminology; Emerson’s unclear text (with the exception of multiple potential transcriptions of unclear text); the editors’ speculations on the likelihood of a reading in the case of offering multiple options for indiscernible text as well as the reasons that text is encoded as unclear (i.e., manuscript damage, poorly formed letters, or illegible writing); Emerson’s missing quotation marks; end of line hyphens, whether original or supplied; and Emerson’s formatting, such as paragraphing, underlining, and passages written in irregular directions. Material features of the manuscripts that cannot be displayed in this current WWO interface include Emerson’s use of horizontal, vertical, and circular lines to demarcate and enclose textual sections or page numbers; Emerson’s graphic representation of the word “world”; and other design features of unknown intent and authorship.To view a model of the display and search capabilities anticipated in a future iteration of Women Writers Online, visit the prototype interface. Please read the Project Synopsis and General Introduction for more information on Emerson, her writings, and this project’s goals and methods.

A key to the display features of this WWO edition follows below.

Page NumbersThree levels of pagination are shown at the top of each Almanack folder’s page:
HoughtonThis page number appears encircled in pencil on one side of each holograph manuscript leaf at Harvard University’s Houghton Library. This number followed by a “b” indicates the unnumbered side of the same holograph manuscript leaf.
TolmanThis is the folder number that corresponds to George Tolman’s scribal witness transcription of this Almanack page. In cases where Tolman did not transcribe certain pages, no folder information will display.
EditorsThis is the chronologically sequenced number assigned by the editors to the Almanack page.
A red asterisk (which the reader can click to view content) indicates Annotations or Textual Notes that provide commentary on the preceding sentence(s). We are currently refining the ways that these notes display in WWO.
A large horizontal ellipsis indicates a gap in the manuscript, most often due to damage.
[word]Bracketed text in roman type indicates text supplied by the editors, by Mary Emerson’s commonplace source, or by George Tolman’s or Ralph Waldo Emerson’s scribal witness transcription.
word [RWE: word]Text in roman type followed by bracketed and italicized text marked “RWE” indicates cases where there are substantive differences between Ralph Waldo Emerson’s transcription and Mary Moody Emerson’s text.
canc {Handwritten addition: repl} end of handwritten additionStruck-through text in roman type followed by italicized content in braces indicates that MME has cancelled her initial text and replaced it with alternative word(s).
{ word | word }Text in roman and italic type separated by a vertical bar and surrounded by braces indicates one of the following: 1) Mary Emerson’s abbreviated text followed by one or more possible expansions; 2) Mary Emerson’s original text followed by one or more possibilities for the editors’ regularization of text that Emerson misspells to a sufficient degree that the editors judge it to be indeterminate to the average undergraduate reader.
{ word | word }Text in roman type separated by a vertical bar and surrounded by braces indicates two or more possibilities in cases where the text is sufficiently unclear that multiple transcriptions are possible.
{[text] [text]}George Tolman and Waldo Emerson differ in their transcriptions of this text; Tolman’s reading is shown in square brackets preceding Emerson’s reading, which is also shown in square brackets. Both readings are enclosed in braces.
Struckthrough ellipses represent cancelled text that the editors cannot discern.
{Handwritten addition: word} end of handwritten additionItalicized text in braces represents material added after the original moment of composition, by MME or another writer.

The following is a partial bibliography of works cited.

Barish Evelyn Barish. Emerson: The Roots of Prophecy. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1989.
Cole Phyllis Cole. Mary Moody Emerson and the Origins of Transcendentalism: A Family History. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998.
EmFBL The Emerson Brothers: A Fraternal Biography in Letters. Ed. Ronald A. Bosco and Joel Myerson. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2006.
EmJMN The Journals and Miscellaneous Notebooks of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Ed. William H. Gilman, Ralph H. Orth, et al. 16 vols. Cambridge: Harvard UP: 1960–82.
EmL The Letters of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Ed. Ralph L. Rusk and Eleanor M. Tilton. 10 vols. New York: Columbia UP, 1939, 1990–95.
Richardson Robert D. Richardson, Jr. Emerson: The Mind on Fire. Berkeley: U of California P, 1995.
Rusk Ralph L. Rusk. The Life of Ralph Waldo Emerson. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1949.
SL The Selected Letters of Mary Moody Emerson. Ed. Nancy Craig Simmons. Athens: U of Georgia P, 1993.

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 1), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 31 October 1804–25 Nov 1804. Malden and Concord, Massachusetts. 10 MS sheets, bearing damage due to burning, foxing or mildew, and water.

This earliest extant Almanack fascicle documents an array of emotions and concerns as MME, age 30, discusses free will and divine justice, her ongoing pursuit of virtue, and the utility of prayer. Deriding the sermons offered by the local clergy, she instead finds ecstasy in both the natural world and her own imagination. This folder reflects MME’s reading of theologians Robert Fellowes and William Sherlock, Anglican bishop Joseph Butler, the letters of Cicero, and Shakespeare’s Othello; poignantly, her comments remind us that such intellectual pursuits are possible only after she has attended to “the needle, the flatiron the porridge pot.” Several family members visit MME during these months, including sister Hannah Emerson Farnham and family, and half brother and sister Daniel and Sarah Ripley. Ralph Waldo Emerson transcribed several of this fascicle’s pages in his MME Notebooks 2; substantive differences between his transcriptions and MME’s text are encoded in this interface display.

Houghton: page 10;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 1

damaged Malden For Charles. vo damaged


damaged I cannot easily express the joy { w’h | which } this arden[t pursuit of]
[dut]y inspires—views of death & eternity so { exhilarting | exhilarating }! What can I
[re]nder!
Glimspes of God { govt | government } sentiments inspired by his presence
[&] attributes— Oh may I never reach a period when I shall
[lo]se sight of a probationary state so interesting! I tremble { least | lest } I
[a]m about to leave this solitude. I have been these some days
[r]eading a little portion of scripture with attention
— Can I ever forget
[t]he eternal consequence of love & humility— rather may my right
hand forget her use
.
I last night practiced anew on the latter—
with success to the happiness of others I hope.
Today I visited the
grave yard—how interested—how realising was the { tho’ts | thoughts } of my own
descease—how animating of reposing limbs weary in offices of love
in the bosom of the peacefull earth. I saw merecy { tho | though } guilty I
was not niggardly—at such a time to have paused { wd | would } have
been criminal!

31. Yesterday at 2 { o’ck | o’clock } came Sarah! Never so
glad to see any one it seemed. She tarried 24 hours. Some of
the most social. & { afft | affectionate }. Rockwood & Daniel { past | passed } the eve. How
could I at first been so engaged in his society? Dear Sarah set
off at 8 today. Uncle & Aunt returned this eve. Comes care
& clamour with variance with the other family. God most mer
cifull forgive & bless me. I erred today in walking—intoxicated with
pleasure.

{ No. | November } 1. Morn. Hail day of life, widened, lenghtened & strenghtened!
There is a wonderfull consistency—(an nameless th{ e | o } illegible feature
of truth { w’h | which } is adapted to the consitution of the mind, { thro’ | through }
the scriptures together with a marvellous mystery which
while it is { callulated | calculated } to incite inquiry—to keep alive the
endless curiosty of man, eludes opens sources of endless variety
in opinions. Stronge proof of their divine origin.

Noon.
In passing this little time this little department of eternity
[wh]at accountability! A division of existence filled with duties { w’[h] | which } damaged
damaged exist not else where—pity in all it’s offices benev Houghton: page 10b;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 [volence i]n most interesting demands are here in th[is world]
of diversied woes only to be filled What { hint{ hart | heart } } what sanc[tity]
what passion & power { sd | should } not be made subservient to a AU damaged
of { w’h | which } interests all intelligences? In Heaven we shall symp[a]
thise with happiness but possibly not add to it’s sum!

Eve.
How inrapturing the sight of the Heavens—exalt the sentiment—
by remembering the voice of inspiration these shall perish
—shall wax old as a garment as a vesture shalt thou fold
them!
I have been to lecture tonight—poor Preacher but my
ardor is not to be cooled.
What can I render! I felt worldly too!


2 Such is life I never expect to feel more fully the feast of con
tentment—it is more animated & sublime than content— How nar
row & feeble my views I know—other situations might inlarge
my existence—but none could inrich the { coulers | colors } of the Heavens
or give a great zest to the joys of love & faith { w’h | which } religion
inspires. I { wd | would } reflect on the { disppts | disappointments } of knowledge & the feebleness
of pursuit—but I cannot.

{ Sab | Sabbath } eve. 4. Day of that sort of pleasure
{ w’h | which } I fear—prevented zeal penitence & knowledge—relaxed—vain
{ tho’ts | thoughts } insued— Cannot accuse myself of indolence in deed—felt the
sweet influence of secret hope, joy & charity. But in gaining the
habit of meditation this eve I strove to add numbers of ages
to my existence— How then frivolous does all { injoyt | enjoyment } appear
on this earth—how dangerous—{ sd | should } any thing be ommitted!!!!
how extensive is the effect of one idea on the principal of association
—how extensive the association in the world of ideas—after millions
of years, when on the verge of a new existence (for such is
the nature of created existences to be forever new to life) on
entering new scenes—untried & full of hope then to feel the
full effect of some long forgotten habit—!! the remotest posi
bility of such consequences (& such as we find here in this im
perfect sketch of God’s moral { govt | government }) { sd | should } arouse a never ceasing anxiety!
It is said that the desire of { immort | immortality } is universal—the desire
[of] continued existence is—but when I contemplate endless be[ing] Houghton: page 9;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 [I s]hudder & am confounded—if it be an ndamaged appe[tite], [one object]
[in]comprehensible— A late { Philos | Philosopher } (Fellows) observes among many
[oth]er errors that the hope & expectation of { immort | immortality } does not
[p]rove it.
for we are so constituted organised that we could
[no]t pass { thro’ | through } life, in our circumstances without the sentiment,
[s]ince the untutored Savage feels it more acutely than the { Phi | Philosopher }.”

[Q]uery. Is there any appetite { thro’out | throughout } our organisation to { w’h | which } some
[o]bject is not adapted? I acknowledge, it is from our organisation
the sentiment arises—that it is an inmate of the soul &
not a deduction of reason I allow, & the case of Savage proves it
to be such. I can find no argument for a future existence from
reason, unless it be the reason of a Deist.— —hence the nessisity
of a revelation—for that of a Deist is feeble, & insuficient (alone)
for the purposes of morality. The crude expectation { w’h | which } has dwelt
univirsally in the mind of man, { tho’ | though } it does not prove illegible to
a demonstration the truth of a future somthing, yet fur
nishes an argument irrestistable to contrary reason, and supports the
internal evidences of revelation. Still what I call the desire of
{ immot | immortality } is only a desire of continued consciousness— As a
proof of endless being it seems we may rank that novelty { w’h | which }
perpetually attends life—on the borders of the { graee | grave } the hoary
sage looks forward with an invarible elasticity of mind.— or hope


Night. Whether the mind exist from the organisation of matter
or be an immaterial substance as different from a material as the rays
of light from the surface { w’h | which } reflects them it’s construction
may often, as well as it’s diseases, be analogous to that of the
body. In the latter we find a power of life—& { w’h | which } counteracts
diseases & decay—when this power is stimulated too much or
[crow]ded as it were—the habits become depraved & the natural
[tendency of] the body to preserve health weakned—so it Houghton: page 9b;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 with the m damaged—and it’s native light may be obscured by damaged
reading, & it’s strenght consumed under the burden of too damaged
matter.

5 A.M. “We know but little of the nature general [laws]
{ w’h | which } regulate the natural world, & still less of those { w’h | which } moral law[s]
{ w’h | which } regard the conduct of intelligent beings & the relations { w’h | which } may ex[ist]
between them & the Maker of all things.” — — “A moral { govt | government } n[ot]
incompatible with general laws
(no, nor with absolute decrees, pe[r]
haps, surely not, if many passages of scripture are true)
for if we a[llow]
that those laws were { origenally | origanally } { past {Handwritten addition: d} end of handwritten addition | passed } by a moral Governor, they are
from the beginning adapted to moral purposes, those parts therefor
in the moral system { w’h | which } appear deviations from what we call
general laws of nature & ways of { Provi | Providence } may be in fact only a p[art]
of them { tho’ | though } the sight is too dim to see their connection. Thes[e]
{ tho’ts | thoughts } readily reconcile the notion of prescience & an overruling { Pro[vi.] | Providence }
for in fact the same thing.”
These { tho’ts | thoughts } have passed my
own mind in much the same connection.

Eve. Why oh m[y]
God are thy virtuous creatures ever unhappy! It is becau[se]
they comprehend nothing of the wonders { w’h | which } surround them
in the vast { vol. | volume } of nature—in the divine book of providence
{ w’h | which } nature unfolds, and which revelations writes with sun
beams! They grovel in the dark—they feel not after God
they perceive not the charm { w’h | which } binds the Universe &
is diffused over every object & event. Place, objects of sense
{ w’h | which } press on the mind engross them & {Handwritten addition: } end of handwritten additiononce animated by the
works & government of God—and the enlarged mind sympathis
ing with all that is human—with all that is interesting in
the world of ideas & virtue { wd | would } defy care ennuie & apathy—the
thirst of knowledge kindled—the intellectual eye once opened &
{ tho’ | though } the mind might pant & hunger, yet it’s pains { wd | would } be
precious & it’s struggles noble.
“In viewing the operations of
the Deity, we wer surrounded with infinity of forms, of combina
[tion]—of magnitudes, of space, of time. The final object of Houghton: page 8;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 [knowle]gde is to give us more perfect notions of the supreme Be
[ing], & to make us more reciprocally usefull. The degree in { w’h | which }
we can be usefull, depends in a great measur on the degree ac
[c]ording to { w’h | which } we can rightly estimate the powers of nature, and
according to { wh | which } the degree in { w’h | which } we know how the Supreme Being
adapts the train of causation to the end to be produced. The farther
advances we make to the source of all intelligence, we more reason
we have to admire his perfections & reverence his power. Admi
ration must generate the desire of imatation; & serious impressions
of religious veneration must give life to a sentiment of univer
sal love & charity.”

Night. A word amiss—manners of levity and I
lost what I am after.

6. Morn. Were it not that I considered
the least ray of knowlegde inconceivably important as producing
future effects on my practice & usefullness, I { sd | should } not labour thus
I { sd | should } taste the fuller pleasurs of ease, hope & retirement. I
could walk—could knit—could even in this Town find food
for my social affections—could amuse myself with books
at a high rate, and acquire those showy virtues { w’h | which } dazzel
& please! But what a dereliction of veiws { wd | would } take place! What
a different being! My heart { wd | would } have objects beneathe it, And
{ tho’ | though } on the whole I might be happier for the present, yet
what of old age, when these soothing vertues shall wither!
It is a fundamental mistake, fatal to the vitals of an elevated be
nevolence, that the most social & gentle habits are the surest
means of cultivating it’s spirit. It is in hearts subjugated by
grace and sanctified from the world, where only the spirit
of love is triumphant. True the heart must cultivate by
devout sensations the mild & gentle habits of love—they surpass
hope, & faith itself
—the means alone I dispute, and main
tain that as far more promotive of piety is solitude, so is it of
the sympathies of benevolence—for these follow that. The
[fa]ct is, that every process of virtue is a preparation as it re
[late]s to the agent and solitude { wd | would } be but a dreams of of ease
[to morta]l[s,] were it not preparative to the duties of society Houghton: page 8b;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 here and the duties & pleasuers of society hereafter. The hea[rt ge]
nerally preys on something—it { wd | would } be dangerous to collect aro[und]
me objects of pleasue & amusement in this situation— I { wd | would }
have my heart find no rest on barren ground.

Night. at 12 cam[e]
brother & sister C‑‑‑ & left their Wm I never was so illy prepared
for company & never { recevd | received } any so happily nor enjoyed any more
In thinking of the omnicience of God we find a rapose & joy
equalled by nothing beside. True, it does not prove the actu[al]
providence of God in all events— He may govern us by stated
laws of in the natural & moral world and interpose neither to resist
sin—disease or death. It is certain that were he to act irresist
ably on the mind there { wd | would } appear to be an end of all moral agency
& { govt | government }. Still, am I disposed { off | of } according to laws established or de
crees, from eternity I am as resigned & joyfull as if they were
this instant formed in the divine mind. Am I left to the pre
carious & hazardous honors or disgraces { w’h | which } may await my own
conduct inevitably or probably, it is the wise at moments establishment of
a God whom I supremely love—and { tho’ | though } I tremble at moments at the pre
sent disadvantages { w’h | which } may accrue to me from want of commonplacdamaged
prudence, yet I repose with confidence. God will cause them
eventually to work for my good .
With a deep & rational convi
viction of future scenes, these will require but common courage
to surmount. However as a matter of reverent speculation we
may conjecture that the infinite Mind in whom we exist & move
is never inactive. The human mind seems forever in motion—
the material world reposes not an instant, but some of its laws
operate with inconceivable velosity—the hand of the Almighty
weilds the creation—his eye beholds it—does He only rest!?
Yes, in the sublimest sense! his will is the law of nature
creation & moves & breathes & thinks & reasons { thro’out | throughout } the
Universe!! Lost in wonder & ignorance let us adore & ad
[m]ire & praise Him!! That I love Him supremely I belive bdamaged
damaged his will & approbation are ultimate
when I contemplate damaged Houghton: page 7;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 damaged & the possible honors & pleasur of Heaven.

7. Morn. [H]ow mor[e]
damaged must be that intelligent being who does not rejoice in the chara
[cte]r of God—low & feeble his enjoyment { w’h | which } does not result from
confidence in it. How fatal the eclipse { w’h | which } those passions cause in the
the mind that glories in ought save the knowledge of God.

Night.
Perhaps I ought to fear this hilarity—but it is connected with newer
emotions of religious joy. I could not be reverent tonight with poor
Mr. G‑‑‑s preaching
— I sympathised with the joys of the vulgar—
I trod on air, I danced at the musick of my own imajanation—it
[i]s well no one knows the frolick of my fancy, for they { wd | would } think
me wild unless they knew me. Ideas of objects—scenes & sentiments
loved & cherished { thro’ | through } vanity & the social appetite adieu! I
dance our everlasting farewel. Friends, in what dear forms I
can paint you! Vanish—for you are but paintings— I
press on to yonder skies! Scenes of dirt, vulgarity, misery &
unqualified ignorance I hail you as the safest, spediest passage
to worlds of light—gay pleasure—ardent hope and activity { w’h | which }
knows no langor!

7. Morn. God I praise! Angels can do no better—
but sin dwells in me— Jesus high Priest of the Univirce!
sprinkle my sacrifice with incence! The senses distract and
pollute my worship, but they cannot weaken my hopes.


8 Morn. Were the genius of the { xian | christian } religion painted, her form
would be full of majesty—her mein solemn, her aspect benign
and strongly impressed with joy & hope, her eyes raised to Heaven
with tears for Zion and rays of glory desending to illumi
nate the earth at her intreaties!

Night I have been up 13 hours
Save 3 I have had them to myself. I { wd | would } sacrifice almost any thing
to be able to appreciate justly the pleasures & profit of such days.
Whether I read the best illegible books I can & whether I read too much
I certainly read more than is easy for my eyes or mind—but
little very little. I poured over Othello as a literary duty the
second time
Ceciro’s letters gave me no animation Neither
[ph]islosphy nor grandeur marked the 20 that I looked glanced over
[ Possibly ] thdamaged can be the reason that I find myself asleep Houghton: page 7b;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 over Pliny & Ceciro!
Aikins 2 or 3 of those essay may nodamaged
full.
Ran { thro’ | through } (for they deserved no more attention) some pag[es of]
H‑‑‑
. Unusual ardor in devotion tonight attones for the { diap [t] | disappointment }
of knowledge { tho’ | { thro’ | through } } day. It is painfull that I have made no more
advance here—it { wd | would } have been natural with such habits. Oh it
is important—devout sensations purifys & exalts the soul. A duty [to]
God, inexpressible reverence as well as the warm language of peace
& love.

10 Too gay—but these dark scenes raise my mirth. Poor
old folks! Were I to sympathise with them I must quickly quit
and render them miserable.

11 { Sab | Sabbath }. eve. Dull, dull day—this health
& strenght to lose, abuse! I laid abed this morning! No one I don[’t]
believe ever attained { eminece | eminence } in virtue who did not deny them
selves sleep & food in a degree. I am discouraged in attaining love
gratitude devotion or knowldge! I am glad I feel it.

12. I rose
in high style—poor day—cold weather cold chiling I could not read
I had not courage to stand the wind & put bye my walk to Lynn.
Felt a secret resentment & injured the feelings of the aged. Lost the
Girl by my ready belief that she could do better otherwise I lose
{ thro’ | through } impruedence—
This eve. I rose above all incumbrances in
devotion & social duties. Retierment & devotion naterally beget an
elevated temper & indifference to present incidents. But I have { faila[d] | failed }
& fallen in the temptations of the year past.

13. Morn. Yesterday
I walked 3 miles or more to Lynn . Never were emotions so ani
mated & uninterrupted as those of my walk. { Diapt | Disappointment } of finding Mr &
Mrs F‑‑‑ returned soon unwearied but lost perhaps the { eveg | evening }
When we contemplate the graves of the departed the idea of their
pleasurs & honors never incite emulation but their virtues do;
How useless at best every bodily sensation of pleasure, but the
least virtue gained { thro’ | through } mortification of those will adhere forever
to the consciousness of identity. Beside selfishness will be won
derfully counteracted by incessant labours, however mean, for others
Why our commanded labours & tears, were not the happiness of people in
[thei]r own power? Were it altogether in God’s, why weep on human
[sorrows]? Were it not even (by circumstances alone) in Gods in a de[gree] Houghton: page 6;    Editors: page 9;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 damaged, why pray? Only to cultivate love? Is not prayer a means
[for] bringing to pass the decrees of God? As it affects the minds of
[i]ndividuals & societies it has a natural tendency to promote the
good we solicit by arousing personal & publick exertion. The great
Sherlocke goes so far as say the Deity may be affected by prayer
somewhat analogous to created beings.
But as to the assertion
that Butler makes of our “our joys and most of our sufferings be
ing put in our own power” is contradicted by experience & { reve— | revelation }

It is the reverse of this truth { w’h | which } is a captital difficulty in
natural religionit and to obviate which, seems to be a peculi
ar advantage in revealed.
Were virtue to have it’s natural effect
it { wd | would } be it’s own reward in most all instances, even where the love
of it was not eminently cultivated. { Tho’ | Though } in all ordinary cases
the pleasures (I speake not of it’s solid sattisfactions) must depend on
the temper; there are tempers, or habits of soul, which will as
surely be happy as certain effects follow their causes, save some
violent obstructions of vice or affliction. If then the physical differ
ences in individuals put it out of their power to be equally happy
or unhappy with others of equal virtue, added to the nameless variety of circum
stances { w’h | which } { discouler | discolor } & variate their lives, it cannot be that our
joys or sufferings are so much in our own power. Still it argues
nothing against natural or revealed religion. Variety of trials are ad
apted to variety of tempers. And I had rather my every joy &
greif { sd | should } be allotted me by that mode, be it what it may, by
{ w’h | which } God governs his creatures. Besides circumstances are evidently
designed by God as { coercivess | coercives } to the good & bad—to try, humble
and purify them, and the greatest events have been { accor.dly | accordingly }
the sufferings of the good.

14 Eve. I last eve enjoyed highly But
[bette]r after my return from Mr. W. S‑‑‑s. Today read all the time
damaged irly wakefullness. I seem to live. I pant for knowledge
Houghton: page 6b;    Editors: page 10;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 In praising God it has a natural tendency to impress the mind [with]
awe of it’s advantages—to realize the distinctions it enjoys—{ r | n }damaged
ed, wittnessed of the Spirit , po{ r | s }ting to immortality—called from noth[ing]
to be an intelligent part of the Univerce, hold of an existence illegible
without a doubt of losing it, whose every law turns on hope!
And these last truths are those which are supplied from
nature & insured by revelation! Those { w’h | which } have their foun
dation in our moral constitution, and informed by God are very
dear to us. But when we contemplate our inability to keep
the revealed will of God in any one instance perfectly, and to
act up to the dictates of our own reason when our passions are in
terested, how gratefull we feel, how marvellously gracious appears
the interposition of Christ and his attonement! But when we
view it in the light of imputation we are bewildered. We are
fallen, depraved; deeply by nature. But till the restitution of all
things
, none will ever know in this life the extent and exact
nature of the interposition of Christ.
But enough is known for matter
of the most constant love gratitude and vigilance. The more exalt
ed and just our views of the duties we owe to God, the more we
shall realize our natural inability to discharge them, and the
apprehend somthing of the misery attendant on a failure in duty.
Lively convictions of truth as it exists in our immortality and
our consequent hopes, induce & strenghten a practical faith in
Christ and { profreessing | professing } attachment to his interposition.

15 What
a rich day, so fully engaged [RWE: occupied] in pursuing truth that I scorned
to touch a novel { w’h | which } for so many years I have wanted.
How
insipid is fiction to a mind touched with immortal views.
Inju[red]
the feelings of the aged once.

16 { Sab | Sabbath }. eve. I am so smale in my
expectations that a week of industry delights. Rose before light
every morn. visited from nessisity once & again for booksr[ead]
[Butlers] Analogy
—commented on the scriptures—read a [l]itt[le] Houghton: page 5;    Editors: page 11;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 [book,—] Ceciros letters a fewtouched Shakes.
Washed, carded
[cle]aned house and baked. Today I cannot recall an error;
[n]or scarsly a sacrifice—but more fullness of content in
the labours of a day never was felt. There is an sweet
pleasur in bending to curcumstances; while superior to them


17 { sab | sabbath } eve. Never did mortal with no larger powers experience
more serene hope & joy in a morning than I did on the
early dawn of this. At { Chh | Church } I found a frivolous Preacher
{ tho’ | though } polished, whether it was him
—but never was a
day { past | passed } in less { tho’t | thought }—less existence—more ease & glee.
The same kind of enjoyment { w’h | which } we see bouy up the weake
from one period, or desolate, useless life to another. We think
them unhappy, from their situation & emptiness, till we
watch them; and then we conclude it is the mercifull
arrangement of God that they are full. Alass [RWE: Also], it is hap
py for them; but let us avoid their destiny, as we would
disgrace. Negative virtue if such it may be called, is dis
gracefull to mind. What more could I have done , till
noon; then { imaja. | imagination } took a quiet possesion. I am not aware
of my { enimeis | enemies }— I maintain no fight— I return as the
dog to his vomit .
I am a poor needy sinner; complete in
nothing, lacking in all the whole of many things, I [f]ear!

All reasonabe men know that certainly there can not be in reality be such a thing [as]
chance but conclude that such appearances are the result of general laws & must be reduced in[to]
them. { Tho’ | Though } we can trace up the natural causes of things but little way to general law.


18 [RWE: 10] . Parson G. { Es{ q | c } r | Esquire } &c tea’d here. There is an influence in society
{ w’h | which } can be accounted for only on metaphysical principles. It
is estimable—it is in short, the great bond { tho | though } [RWE: the] invisible of society and
a sourcee of endless dangers, priviledges, joys & sorrows! We ob
serve not these laws of society till the bitterness of nega
tive & positive experience teach them. How much more
forcibly shall we experience these laws in the world of
[di]simbodied spirits! How nameless the importance of our
[society then!] To retrace any particular passage of our lives Houghton: page 5b;    Editors: page 12;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 now dark, or taisteless, or ambiguous in company with some f[avor]
ite spirit, whose long vista of existence has crowned him wi[th]
distinguished laurels of wisdom & penetration; to trace any of ou[r]
past journey, and develop it’s character by the aid of this courteou[s]
immortal illegibletiillegible how richly repaid for every sufferance. Nor is it unre[a]
sonable to conclude that in identifying our past existence we
shall at passages blush with modest, not guilty emotions. Yes
it may be in such society by their inlightening vision, that we
discover the relations of our conduct in such views that those
parts { w’h | which } have long reproached us shall cease to wound illegible y
longer. Would we be distinguished among the endless variety and
numbers of the immence community { w’h | which } we shall behold, we
must cultivate the vertues { w’h | which } do not pretend to dazzel and at
tract the gaze of the world—it must be the rich drapery of
humility and love { w’h | which } clothes the soul for mansions { w’h | which } Jesus
prepares.
Would we when coasting the riegions of other worlds
behold new orders of intelligences with advantages to arrest their
attention and invite their interest; let us bear about some pecu
liar test of our Soverign’s approbation—some rich insignia of
his pleasure in us! What does he asign his favorites as instance[s]
of his love; the sweet & gentle virtues of the heart, those to { w’h | which }
he has promised blessedness .

Night. Whatever speculative views people
who pretend to philosophise on general priniples say against prayer, we
can confute all by the internal evidences of it’s utility. Still reason has
her claims. She teaches us that we comprehend scarce any { piont | point } of Gods
dispensations; that we cannot trace the end of the means nature
of cause & effect—the relation in any instance between means and
the end, but in matters open to familiar our senses we forget this fact; What
ever effect prayer may have on God—on the, high Priest of our
profession who sympathises with our { infrimities | infirmities } , it is enough tha[t]
[w]e are commanded to pray under every dispensation of Gods { govt | government }
[that prayer is] uniformly commanded as a duty and enjoined as a d
damaged
Houghton: page 4;    Editors: page 13;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 damaged and the various events attendant on, and the wonderfull suc
[cess] attached to this duty form a bright portion of the scriptures.
[I]t is an unwarrantable persumption to argue against it on the prini
ples of Gods decrees; in those who profess to believe the scriptures
It is enough to silence every objection if God has commanded it.
What it’s nature or tendency farther than to sanctify us we know
not; we perceive not but by and history sacred & prophane records
certain events to follow the prayers { w’h | which } besought them. The decla
ration in Isaiah may well adjust the philosophy and generalise
the nature of this invisible intercourse with an infinite Being,
—before they call I will hear answer, and whilst they are speaking
I will hear
—the answer was prepared in the laws of nature—
and the request was heard from eternity—the events which
were requested depended on the operations of the will of others;
free, as well as the exercises of prayer. However, we may trace
this, as any subject in a speculative way, into endless intricacies
and obstruse perplexities. There may be endless disquisitions on the
nature of food to assimulate with the blood & invisible spirits
of the body, and to { preseve | preserve } that active, yet unrecognisable power
of life in the constitution of animals; yet instinct { irresitably | irresistably }
overpowers the difficulties of reason; and reason herself takes
a practical part, and the body thrivs. Our nobler instincts
prompts to feel often—to adore—to rest upon a power superior
to what we behold in visible objects and reason in vain { searhc | search }
for a support from it’s own resources—it takes part with the
desires of the heart and the mind is nourished as actually from this
spiritual exercise as the body from imbibing other substances.
The above scripture related to the prayers of the good and were
matter of promise to times of gospel grace—but such is the
[na]tive or implied language of the scriptures { thro | through }out. If the good
damaged [are] to pray, surely the wretched, the weary, the igordamaged Houghton: page 4b;    Editors: page 14;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 nt & heavy { ladin | laden } can have no other resource. Were the[re only a]
possibility of a Power superior to nature—a distant hope o[f] [be]
ing related to it, it would the wisest use of all the faculti[es]
of the guilty and misirable to implore it’s aid.

19. Morn. I
would not relinquish the hopes, nay, even the positive pleasurs of
this day for any of socity. while it was dark, before I was dres[sed,]
I begged for mercy—and mercy I find. This habit of rising that
I have had of late, is mercy itself. How admirably calculated
is the state of trial ad{ a | o }pted to our constitution—to that un
quencable thirst for fame which universally more or less
prevails in the human mind. To dirict this to a future good
or corrupt its engergies with present objects constitute the
man, the philosopher and the { xian | christian } ! In proportion as it gain[s]
strenght in a good diriction every virtue increases. Too strong
ly it cannot operate as there is not any intimation in the
old or new { testa. | testament } of this life being succeeded by a another of pro
bation. The head of human nature was perfected here— he wa[s]
made like unto his { brethen | brethren } .
His offices and { govt | government } remain but no
trials. Our bodies and spirits are so wonderfully adapted that it
is a dictate of reason to believe their disunion will end the
conflicts. To those who aim at high degrees of { perfetion | perfection }, the
present variety of dangers and temptations make their state
so intense a scene of vigalance that it may well be sup
posed to equal the longer one of more refined orders of beings
whose obedience is attended with no privations! of body or mind!

Yet that it shall introdece us into a state intirely divested of pain I
is not probable. That when amid spirits of brighter acquirments
and longer views, { thro’ | through } their intenser application, we shall not at
times shrink from their society into lower ranks is not unrea
[so] [n]able to expect. Amid the endless de {Handwritten addition: u} end of handwritten additionvinity which awaits us in Houghton: page 3;    Editors: page 15;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 [the eve]nts which await us in immortal scenes, these are probably
our ad{ a | o }pted to our constitution.

Eve. Never so good a day for devotion
joy & seeing my brother if in my walk my fancy had not run
wild.
What a walk—the scene was exhilerating beyond my present
leisure to describe.

20. { M | Morning } . There is nothing within the limits of crim
es so degrading—so extensively unfortunate as that debility of mind
which habitually craves the support of praise. Praise is sweet!
It’s desire is one of the most important parts of human { constui
tion
| constitution }
. God himself addresses us { thro’ | through } this soothing principle. And
where it is not polluted on earth, where it lives and grows
by a constant reference to God, it is becomes the cause and the
effects at once of the most lofty virtue. As it is vigorous here, it
ceases to operate as a improperly in the social intercourse, and thus only
can it’s grandest consequences { frollow | follow }. For after this principle
is exhausted by heavenly prospects, by earthly sorrows, by age
by sickness or disgrace it still has resources—it is in general,
perhaps, universially the most invincible of human propensities in mind
not brutel & ignorant. Hence, it’s dangers; it’s sickly effects
on the weakly virtuous—it often confounds the nice distinction betwee[n]
right & wrong and s{ a | o }ps the only foundation of an exclusive
piety. It is impossible to cultivate the peculiar graces of the
{ xian | christian } life and gain the approbation of the captivating inhabi
tants of a busy world. Ye cannot serve God and mammon!
Neither can the devotee to praise, however innocent, be per
manently happy—the sensibility is tortered, the imajanation be
comes micorscopic and represents the evanescent failures of
the moment as barriers to glory. Seek not honor from men
love not the praise of men more than the praise of God ,
must be
[the] motto of the philosopher in contintment as well as the { xian | christian }. Houghton: page 3b;    Editors: page 16;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 Let the cross, the grave, the crown of Jesus Christ regula[te the]
affection of ambition in every believer of revelation!

Eve. I lo[ok]
not forward to this life—if at all, with hope undashed—but at tim[es]
like the present I tremble at my present possessions—what do they
forebode—what do they do demand! I do not expect ever to be hap
pier in this world than I have been for the past months of
health & dilligence. I can never can reasonably expect to injoy so
much devotion in any other situation. More active influence more
exertion I may injoy—but on the whole never more solid & ani
mated pleasures. Had I never met various trials my virtue migh[t]
be deceptive. But it is madness to say virtue depends on temp
tation & trial for it’s existence. The highest sublimest virtues
may be practised in solitude. The heart is the seat of holiness
that is never inactivee.
If virtue could only be known and
cultured by the laboures of pity and beneficence, which can
be practised only in a state of where human misery prevails,
then the highest order of beings may not be virtuous.
I think
of my relations & my MVS & Mrs T. &c with growing tenderness
& zeal for their welfare.
Where is the sorry weake thing that says
habits of bodily intercourse are nesscary to friendship? As we love
God we alone are formed to the next holy passion, friendship, the
more independant of it’s immediate aids the more pure and
lasting it’s nature. God most mercifull, I bless thee in the name
of my Master that thou hast formed me capable of friendship
in its joys & privations and { sd | should } thou never fully give me the exer
cise of this sublime passion I praise thee for the capasity. And
is it irrational or unanalogous to the nature of things to suppose that
a soul whose affections are cultivated by the highest objects and
unexhausted by earthly ones will join with more fervor & joy the
soceity of holy beings? We feel this hunger and injoy a repast of
{ scoial | social } intercourse with zeal apportioned to our privations. And it
is [p]robably consistent with the distributions of God, who often here
[make]s up to us the losses we have sustained in one instance
damaged b[y] the advantages of another. There seems a damaged Houghton: page 2;    Editors: page 17;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 damaged equalising the happiness of individuals constan[tly going on. What]
[is] poisen in one situation is needed in another. Not one day
[bu]t it’s b{ o | ou }nds appear set. This eve I am { disappt | disappointed } of the continua
damagede of my joys by disagreable apprehensions, from these symptoms
[of] my tenia or dropsy,
which I often feel without the least ap
[p]rehension as my health is good. But I never can, I “believe” I never shall suffer
[a] moment’s anxiety, as far as I discern the correcting hand of
[G]od. Do what He will his will I shall always love. Greatly
have I deserved it’s chastisments; and my own sense of justice will
be gratified in my punishment. Pho—as far as I can discern
how weake, how cowardly, I was an hour agone! If by stated in
evitable laws I suffer, they are Gods laws—whether established
a million ages past or this moment, it is the same to me who
behold a God continually. If I have ignorantly tampered with them
I must submitt. But what we term laws of nature we know
but little any m how they operate. It is Gods immediate agency
on every particle of matter—not a sparrow “without” God. &c
That This method of operation is stated; or & or similar is a mercifull
ordination—the basis of all expirience, which is called knowledge
In case of what we call miracles the laws of nature are
not suspended or reversed—but the mode of acting on mind &
matter is different.

21. What is the highest, holiest { exerise | exercise } a crea
ture can is capable of? Contemplating with suitable affections the
Creator! The impressions are not passive—the effects, when the duty
is cultivated largely, are beyond all the sublimity of the stoical
philosophy—they add to the magnanimity, of fortitude & constancy of
the philosopher, the glowing tenderness of sympathy and the irresistable
grace of humility. Where can this duty be most effectually culti
vated? In solitude, no one has a hermit’s. The soul that God
[dw]els in can aspire in love to the sympathise with Angels
damaged [it vis]its the happy and great of all ages & nations and Houghton: page 2b;    Editors: page 18;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 [t]riumps in their aggrandisement—it descends to Caverns [of]
and weeps over over { evey | every } form of human woe! It’s leading edamaged
is active zeal in ameliorating human misery by habits of intercess[ion]
—it would lose sight of the bonds { w’h | which } at once connect it with
God & man! Are these passive impressions, such as Butler [says]
weaken { o | i }n the mind by repitition—whereas habits strenghten
the virtuous principle??
No! these { tho’ts | thoughts } by often passing the mi[nd]
can never lose their effect. They are not speculative—they are
vital exercises—where the heart feels. And here perhaps I
find the distinction between the growth of virtue in solitude
& sociity. In the latter habits, externally, increase with more
facility. Innocence is more easily preserved in solitude. But
it requires more strenght & vertue to increase, in solitude, the
virtues which have no assistance from external acts. Habit may
carry it’s possessor along, in frequent cases, somewhat like a ma
chine. Clearer virtues demand imply taste, discrimination and
the knowledge of the truth of them.

22. I cannot but rejoice ({ tho’ | though }
the great might ridecule) at a whole day begun so early and so un
remittingly active, devout & happy. True, I have not read all, the
needle, the flat iron the porridge pot have been plied with success.
I cannot but compare these serene hours of ardent book, pen &c
to somthing like what I shall feel in a world all activity & sucess.
I am studying the history of my Saviour! Oh may I imbibe his spirit,
feel an ambition to pursue his path and aim at possesing
his glory! I have from unfortunate circumstances been erroneous in
my ideas of age. It does not nessesarily deface the beauty of the
mind. I tremble! Does it not weaken— Old age has no terror else.
The soul is as alive to what it deems injurious or beneficial as ever.
I must enter into the nature & possibilietes of this soul more and
I shall cease to estimate the decay of the body— I shall pursue
with more zeal it’s strenght & ornament. My breath shortens with
hunger & thirst.

23. Morn. We are not certain from the testimony [of]
damagedce or our reason that we shall have scope for knowle[dge] Houghton: page 1;    Editors: page 19;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 damaged e, verasity patience, faith temperance & fear, in the commu
[nit]y { w’h | which } constitutes the socity of another life. But for love and all
[th]e { aimable | amiable } sympathies { w’h | which } result from a high cultivation of it, we
[ar]e assured we will naturally tend to our advancement. What prini
[pl]e of our nature can have such scope when we are surrounded with
[t]he { higer | higher } & more perfect displays of God’s character, { govt | government } and works.
The universe is filled with a proportion altogether extensive of
happy beings; and those benevolent affections of the heart, which
delight in happiness that it has no way been influential towards,
{ w’h | which } are the purest & most exallted, will then have the most ellim
[it]able progress. Yet we know not of what advantage the other virtues
will be even in a perfect society. Here they are indispensible, by
the will of God and the { pissent | present } nature of man. Besides, the vir
tues are connected—no one can bear, can practice charity whose own
passions have not been subjugated.

Night. I attended a funeral—
performed the social duties I owed to some of my { acquanitarce | acquaintance } in
walking to the grave.
With pleasure I intirely forgot myself in
heightening the poor existence of others. I need comfort this eve.
this tenia swells me I believe. I have it I have read open’d
to a scripture. God is mine and I am his! No power short of God
himself shall dissuade me from this. As a truth existing in the
nature of things it is fast as fate. The heathen had strange
notions of fate they said it was uncontroulable by the gods—{ tho’ | though }
they never attributed to it any virtue. It seems they had some
ideas { w’h | which } are interwoven with the mind of nessisity.
God exists
by the nessesity of his nature! We adore but with mute reason &
reverence. We adore with every faculty of our mind that in
Him are is the { gov | government } of every agent in nature, matter and
mind. Nesissity exists to us but we rejoice it reasons {Handwritten addition: ches} end of handwritten addition not the
operations of the infinite Mind but in connection with the ever
[las]ting & immutable attributes which belong to his nature. We Houghton: page 1b;    Editors: page 20;    part of Tolman’s folder 1 rejoice that possesing an emanation from Him, we reason [that]
truth is grafted on our demonstration; we learn that God [can]
not commit contradictions, that there are things { w’h | which } he ca[n]
not do. This nesisity we admit.

24. { sab | sabbath }. eve. The social inter
course of loving smiling and asking my few neighbours how they
do is indisputably a duty. It is a pleasure of late! The heart neve[r]
is so sensible of the love of God as when it communicates the
least pleasur to others. Day not devout & ardent { tho | though } pleasant.
Daniel writes me to go to Concord to Thansgiving. My poor Aunt
was so clamorous that { tho’ | though } I lost not my temper yet I might
have done better how much better I wont say. No. I dont in
tend, I dont wish to go. I expect like the { tow | two } last a holy fro
lick. Circumstances so the reverse; and a wish to oblige
three old persons will give me the glee of virtue.


But to the test, I do not advance in promotion in that king
dom { w’h | which } is not in this world. Perhaps my desires to add to the
justice charity & truth { w’h | which } compose it’s claims in this world
will all evaporate in passive impressions. I should set som
thing new before me every day—some object in a new light—
some sacrifice some offering—! Heavens, I tremble. God most
mercifull my claims are to on thee written in the blood of thy
Son! I bow with unshaken constancy to thy ordinations. Place
me here & hereafter just where thou { pleaset | pleasest }—only I urge
t {Handwritten addition: T} end of handwritten additionhee I cannot let Thee go without grace to perform my the
part Thou assignest me.

25 Morn. The very hour after I injured
the feelings of the aged { tho’ | though } preserved temper yet I sinned against
God; considering my priviledges, the least impatience, the least inter
ference on my own present { acc | account } the least justification of what
appeared to others dark should be avoided, as it gave pain
[In] future I will given ten points to gain my darlin[g hopes ]

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 2), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 16 June 1806-c. 26 December 1806. Malden, Boston, and Newburyport, Massachusetts. 13 MS sheets, bearing considerable damage due to burning, foxing and water; three sheets are vertical fragments with minimal text.

This Almanack opens with MME’s enthusiastic record of the solar eclipse of 16 June 1806. In this passage and others, her mood seems inspired, and she describes her sense of intellectual and emotional fulfillment, which she credits to “imajanation that faculty of mind w’h [which] seems to unite the feelings of the heart to the exertions of the intellect.” Her reading at this time includes poets James Thomson and John Milton, orientalist Sir William Jones, and statesman Edmund Burke, excerpts from Virgil’s Aeneid, and the sermons of Robert Robinson. She visits Boston and then Newburyport, where she assists in caring for her ailing sister Hannah Emerson Farnham and her infant daughter, Hannah Bliss Farnham, both of whom were ill with tuberculosis; Hannah Bliss died on 11 October. While in Newburyport, she enjoys several visits with her close friend Daniel Appleton White. In this folder, MME also opines on the need for a Christian to temper her ambition with “humility”; she mentions specific occasions of her recent “weakness of heart,” social obligations and relations that bring her little comfort, and her joy in solitude.

Houghton: page 25b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged 806  There was a total ec[li]pse [of the sun to]day
damagedrd with the scene, I was describing the sub
damagedgloom of which inveloped the scenery when the
[firs]t moments { where | were } approaching— I flew to the
[woo]ds to get beyond the din of human tongues and be
[for]e I arrived to the most sequestered spot the sun im
[m]erged— Alass I never so deeply regreted a loss—for
[n]ever surely there did the sublime ever in perception
[s]o fully appear. The appearance was unexpected—so
[e]xquisiite a light I cannot describe—the winds wer[e]
hushed as if in awe—the birds screamed—the stars
glowed—with what rapt devotion did I view my Ma
kers hand— Oh how forgotten are the vanitis & sorows
of life at grand appearances! How easy death at clear
veiws of Gods works.! I sunk into life and walked
& lost the afternoon I remember a similar eclipse 25
years agone I then felt stupid the scene was lurid
& gloomy.

17. Eve. Not easily forgotten—read { scrip. | scripture } Thom. Spring
& half Summer
lives of { tow | two } courtesans, of Demosthenes .

baked walked repeatedly into woods— Mr & Mrs F. tea’d
here! Slept twice—all these with other { avo.s | avocations } and the
day has been the picture of ennui. God most mercifull
forgive and pity me!

18. Incommunion with trees,
[w]ith streams and stars and suns, man finds his own glory
[ins] kribed on every flower and sparkling in every beam
damaged the skies I read my future destiny, and fdamaged
damagedes and sorrows { w’h | which } hedge up damaged Houghton: page 25;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 principali [ties] a[nd] power [s] at extended damaged
and her God! But there are grander emotion[s] damaged
moral world of man—those which will not de damaged
the blood nor rest in the grave—it is those exer[cises]
of obedience { w’h | which } unite the soul to the attributes of
the first Cause—that awfull respect for his will { [w’h] | which }
gives life to the obscurest deed—{ w’h | which } abides by th[e]
soul in the moments of complete destitution, and suppo[rts]
the love, the practice of virtue without influence or
power! Ah for the witchery of fancy I have this
very morning forgone this bliss of blessedness this last
sure stay of existence—this stamina of glory! It does
appear that there is so much remaining of the image
of God (whose nature, I conceive, the sole origin of morality)
on the immortal essence of man that when the convic
tion of moral agency attended with active virtue, is
strongly felt, the soul is happy more perfectly, than at any other sentimet independent of future
rewards; supposing no violent obstruction. But I find
a surer token evidence of alliance to God in that zeal to
do his will, separate from the reward of any kind.
When I contemplate the high ranks of celestial spirits &
the goal to { w’h | which } I am tending with my contemporaries,
[i]t is not distinction I pant for. My God I love thee damaged
damagede thy will—a calm spectator of thy ways and damaged
damaged [be] blest in liberty—at the lowliest damaged Houghton: page 11b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged [ti]me—holy—

16 If the exercises of Devotion di[d]
[not] remain lively—the soul could ask nothing of God
But while clogged with a putrid body it seeks
[t]he supports adapted to the senses—while active
[d]uties must take the place of contemplative and
tranquil emotions (the purest & sublimest) it seem du
ty to seek those advantages { w’h | which } will most readily
develop the powers of the mind and the virtues of
the heart—if desired—how sweet to bear his mild
yoke to rejoice in felicity to { w’h | which } we are not acces[si]
ble to behold God carrying on the affairs of the un
iverse without the mimickery of our help

17 I
am getting my clothes ready for sickness—and conclude
to have advice this eve. I ask not to be rid of dis
ease.— Instead of it health may be my lot—joy
& prosperity—but when we contemplate God—the
grave the brightest scene are equally indiffer
ent. How much more so will the style of life appear
when actually in the immortal world. “Whilst all things
are in motion & fluctuate on the earth; whilst states & empires
pass away with incredible swiftness, & the human race
vainly employed in the external view of these things, are
also drawn in by the same torrent, almost without { percvng | perceiving }
it, there passes in secret an order & disposition of things un
known & invisible, { w’h | which }, however, determine our fate to
all eternity. The duration of ages has no other end than
the formation of the bodies of the elect { w’h | which } augments, &
[ten]ds daily to perfection. When it shall receive its
[final] [accom]plishment by the death of the last elect
 damaged
Houghton: page 11;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 this paragraph incites the grandest emotions w[e]
can feel. If there be an infinite first Cause,
as good as great, the perfection of his virtuou[s]
creatures must have formed a part of his pla[n]
& the principle of his moral { govt | government } from eternity
And the forgoing fact be indisputable. Yes, this
little speck of nature we live on, then seems but
a beautifull minature painting from { w’h | which } we { wd | would }
gladly turn our eyes to the vast Original of
beauty, & explore scenes where the elect of all ages
& nations inhabit perfect righteousness.

17 One
hour in the morning and I envied not the blest. Then
illegible went to see that agreeble woman & appeared worldly
{ tho’ | though } I did not feel so—alass! The more comprehensive
the mind & pious the affections the more wholly confident
in God. Conversant about Him & distinctions of time
place & { emoloment | emolument } die away here & for hereafter.


18 If animal spirits { w’h | which } are the effect of health gene
ate worldly mindedness—if they belong to earth—if
they are of a gross not ethereal nature oh let me
depart—the feeblest spirits if they comprehend
but one duty are preferable to these—this day
of quiet of hilarity I abhoor it! Mercifull God cut
[shor]t my time—fill it up, crowd in what [Thou]
[woulds]t have [me do] damaged Houghton: page 12b;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 [pec]uliar province must commence in the intell
[ec]tual world. It is to imajanation that faculty of
[t]he mind { w’h | which } seems to unite the feelings of
the heart to the exertions of intellect that { are | we }
damaged { ver | ace | vie | vee | we } the { softd | softened } tints of past misfortune and the
liveliness of future hopes—in fine it is the
medium of every joy and harmonises all the
soul. As long as idenity exists so long the perog
ative of a happy { imajan | imagination } will remain: the pecu
liar gifts, the indefinable combinations of genius
will never be the portion of vulgar souls (it
seems) even in ages of blessedness! They may grow
expatiate and triumph in the devolving wonders
of a God, but by analogy of all human education
they will not acquire gifts different from the
stamina—the constituent principles { w’h | which } compose
the soul.— the Soul what is it? whatever it
be, it’s stamp is given—it’s features are indelibly
stamped for eternity at it’s formation—education
forms—marrs—or perfects them—and supernal
influence directs & sanctifys them. We antiscipate
new powers in eternity—true, but they will
be in unison perhaps to those we exercise now—nay[,]
[th]e germ—the embreyo of every principle mu[st]
[lie wi]thin us
new objects incite new ide[as]  damaged
damaged Houghton: page 12;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 —in similar manner the powers may be dea[d]
as long as it exists— How differently one and th[e]
same object strike { tow | two } minds; they who have
happy powers of perception can tell.
Will the covdamaged
ous, the frostn bound soul, ever perceive objects
with the same rapture that another does?
Oh how inestimable are the hopes { w’h | which } those (I { sd | should }
think) would taste who possess the gifts of the
mind. Eternity must forever charm their eyes,
their ears, their hearts; and the path that leads
them thither be itself sweetened.
With what
ever living zeal { sd | should } they cherish the distinction
{ w’h | which } God has eternally conferred on them—to pre
pare for a climate congenial to love & thought
—to lighten the darkness of others and give
to the cold some taste of joy.

19 { sab. | sabbath } morn. The
collection of psalms resembles the garden of Eden
in its variety richness & magnificence. The citizen
of the immortal Eden wanders from one luxuriant
scene to another and { loose | lose } himself in its beau
ties. That man retains some natural affection for his
divine Parent is manifest from the delight he
feels from the harmony of his works and the sense
[of] His perfections. That grace has sanctified damaged
[is] evident when the discover[y] damaged Houghton: page 13b;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damagedn and immensity give him more delight than
[an]y other sentiment.

Night Never a { sab | sabbath } more { dexpected | expected }
[was] intending to avoid those any { smalier | smaller } { irrgs | irregularities } { w’h | which } I have
committed. I did. I never remember so much continual
[pen]ance— The success makes me hope for a nother { sab. | sabbath }
This eve. has been wandering & guilty—alas not
one whole day to God while in the holy.

21. When
suffering under the weakness of my heart I cannot whol
ly complain— I respect the susceptiblity—given by God
and a germ of future delight. How singular the inci
dent—so wished—so illy prepared for it. Weakness
the whole. Mr Emerson & F. after that came & { bro’t | brought } me
disagreeable news from N—t. I must go & resign the
rapture of { devo. | devotion } the sight of the charms of nature
& devote my time to care to sickness & labor.
No mat
ter—it will not retard my glory in the skies a
moment. At view of the heavens—what associations
of earth and its finel forms of fancy love & friend
ship—of the martyrs to passion—& of to reason—
of worlds of men who are gone—of the scenes
{ w’h | which } they inhabit
“— The spirit of Plato to unfold
What worlds &c —”

Every thing seems gone before and the earth a poo[r]
desolate place. Yes, these gifts of fancy love & friendsh[ip]
[a]re dear { tho’ | though } forever famished here—and her[e]
damagedt be indulged without selfishness damaged
damaged Houghton: page 13;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 for I am not { practioner | practitioner } nor theorist enough at p[re]
sent to find myself one self denying virtue, or o[ne]
wholly disinterested when surrounded by congenial objects
of love & friendship. I might & hazard my life &
health whenever their interest called—so does the
feathered inhabitant of the air—an instinct prompts
to efforts the most desprate for another’s self. Is
this virtue? Virtue renders the little every day
sacrifices { w’h | which } we perform for those who are naterally
obnoxious to our happiness even pleasant—but where
is duty when we love?

21 What contemptible trifles
depriv us of the richest blessings—{ impat | impatient } of
time—what dangers attend solitude that
the incident of yesterday { sd | should } beget so
many sins, that is, vain { tho’ts | thoughts }. What a
day—lost as a saint—an immortal.


22 Morn. Solitude must have it’s langors
& diseases—else it { wd | would } be too much of
Heaven, & death { wd | would } not be desirable.
But at such times it is perhaps folly
to ask for activity—and the develop
ment of embryo powers. In these cases
I { sd | should } meet with labours I { sd | should } illy
bear—with duties partially dis
charged—with temptations weakly
resisted. To wish for human hap
piness is sublime—to feel uneasy
at not aiding it, is { insensiti[ate] | insentient }
damaged [to the] damaged


  damaged { e | a }s { sd | should | said } as a disgrace for a man
damagede or die for himself yet he was
damagedrtunate. His Mother in the a tempel
[s]ealed to { heanthenism | heathenism }
{ sd | said } we can res
[tra]in our tear for the sake of other, but
[ev]ents are with the God. I rejoice
[c]ure my { lady | body } in this sense before it
damaged worn with age

Houghton: page 14b;    Editors: page 9;    part of Tolman’s folder 2

damaged to retrieve former errors is weakness—the
[sam]e causes will forever generate the same ef
fects—to aim at an example is like giving sub
[s]tance to a shadow—the safest ambition is that
to be shine in scenes of immortality & reality. Obscurity
humility and benevolence { sd | should } employ the first &
latest { desirs | desires } of a { xian | christian }. True dignity is there often
and there only found and as the { appt | appointment } of God not
the resort of indolence { sd | should } be gratefully receivd.
How little of God and less of himself does he know
who confines virtue & glory with to eclat—activity
and learning.

24 Sacred & prophane history wonder
fully sullies all human glory. The greatest Saint
Hero & Statesman is left to cast a shade on their
brightest acquirments
Amidst their height of noon
Changest thy countenance & thy hand with no regard
Of highest favors past
From thee on them, or them to thee of service.

Milton.

What a love of solitude & sacred regard to the
humble virtues { sd | should } this induce! And a stronger
ardor in every reflecting mind for a more perfect
stage of existence. When sublimed with the sentiments
& presence of God we exult in retirment but
the laws of nature will not permit the continu
[anc]e of these emotions—formed for trial labour
damagede. Yesterday & today tedious because damaged
damaged [subjec]t that damaged Houghton: page 14;    Editors: page 10;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 I am engaged in a p[ur]suit new & important. God m[ost]
mercifull smile for my Master’s sake.

29. Too a[we]
struck & feeble to pursue the subject.

25 came H[ome]
the reflections of my hilarity painfull.

26. Went to [see]
brother W. &c went to Capt D— got rid of dread
full spirits

27 { sab. | sabbath } eve. Heard Mr May with great
pleasure & { impt | import } lost illegible it & God only knows what
else by folly & weakness. Yesterday Visited to advan
tage of my spirits.

31. An { clipse | eclipse }, when this { MMS. | manuscript } was
begun—
it has passed thus on in a mental { eliepse | eclipse }.
Yesterday I awoke recalling the passage of one joyfull
who { sd | said } when he slept his heart waked . for the
three past months most of my sleep has been with
a heart awake to depression. It must be owing
to my health, for God is my friend. x

{ No. | November } 11. Almighty
God! Have mercy upon me! Let this painfull per
plexed memorable moment decide my soul.

12 I went
the { 1t | first } of { Au. | August } to Boston & from thence to N.P. to take
Sarah’s place who had the care of sister F—’s family
the care of so numerous a family with a sick infant
passed of very easily. The 10 of { oct. | october } the dear & pro
mising child died. It was a tender situation. It had be
[co]me wholly attached to me and formed a great part
of my pleasures. It’s Mother returned to the funeral
[and] behaved with much calmness.
I came here to see idamaged
[m]ight tarry there longer—returned thence for damaged
damageds at the close of which, went to damaged
damaged Houghton: page 15b;    Editors: page 11;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged { entance | intance } than for some y[ears], entered more in[to]
[soc]iety—{ thro’ | through } situation not choice—many interesting
[p]assages of life with the most interesting characters
among which the Sawyers Hannah & M. they have played
[wi]th my feelings—duped my sagacity—flattered
my self esteem and exposed my weak side. I love &
dislike approve & shun abhor them. M. Ann grew on my af
fections. How fervently I pray God to bless them! A. Brom
field
disappointed at first, pleased & interested & gained my
respect. I hope a blessing will attend the acquaintance
D.A.W. became almost my sole companion,
(from the
interest I took in his seeing my friend, & the plea
sure the success afforded me), in the hours of a silent
house—in the case of my little charge in the
social table he occupied my attention & shortened
my labours. How thankfull that he did no more.
To others he appeared to, but there was no harm
in their { suspion | suspicion }. On the whole devotion Decayed—ardor
lost—levity gained—worldly intercourse induced
common feelings—feelings—{ w’h | which } I abhor; { tho’ | though } they
rather touched than resided in my heart. Many
[m]any miscarriages in delicacy, integrity & firmness—f[rom]
damaged in gentleness with my family. In short I damaged
damaged to retrace the beginnings of my damaged
damaged Houghton: page 15;    Editors: page 12;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 I was doing the [fami]ly never entered my hea[rt nor]
rendered me important for an instant. How much [bet]
ter I might & ought to have done in one case is most
painfully certain. Its consequences I know not I committ[ed]
them, and this poor, feverish, weak, distorted soul [went]
into the hands of an high Priest touched with
human misery—an Advocate, if any man sin!
 I
press to the throne of grace emboldened by his { offices | officer }.
And I think myself sincere when I say to Him,
that I had rather have died than passed the three
last months. Yet in those months I have prefered
my devotion to every social pleasue and death has
been my most pleasant theme & hope. Yet there
have been pious resolutions broken before human in
fluence & private passion. No friendship I made but I
would instantly relinquish to be free from this awfull
reflection. No pleasur, I { wd | would } not exchange for anguish.


13. Eve. What a frolick—is it from levity—not wholly
I know—bereft of every human support—failed in
some of the niciest points—how strangely made!
I read some of Jones’ life & I never felt so intirely
diminutive in point of knowledge & activity. Yet it
was then I felt most grandly—at death. yes after
death (& ten leigion of Angels can’t avert my death
damaged my death, there is perfect musick in the sound)
[I s]hall enter the wide, the boundless domain of [the]
damagediliefe, truth & nature! I shall then damaged
[nature of soul & body w]it[hou]t tdamaged Houghton: page 16b;    Editors: page 13;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 [w]hole science of poetry in all its magic in
[flue]nce and trace it’s birth and progeny from
[one] long age of bliss & praise to another. Com
[p]ared to moments of divine intuition like these
[to a]ntisapate, thy researches, Oh departed Linguist,
[seem] puerile & uninteresting!
Since last eve. much
[q]ueietness & ease Has all been done?! I know no
omission but rising—no sacrifices—no labours—


14. { Disapt | Disappointment } again about M.S— & now with DAW. My
Uncle & Aunt gone & every thing in { prisn | prison }. But I had
rather have these devout emotions than the whole
world. Sir W. Jones prays that when he died he might
go where “he { sd | should } increase in knowlegde & awfull
love.”
What a noble petition! But { sd | should } I not enter
immediately on such a state—{ sd | should } my soul mingle with
the dust of the earth & slumber away the long ages
of time, I will praise God for death—the last
convulsions of my soul shall bless him for every mode
of existence.

19. I have just returned from Boston
where I went to see poor sick sister Hannah
there I enjoyed the literary & social society of my
brother & my book very much.
This day was snowy
& deeply clouded—how this Town appeared is not easi
ly described— To judge by appearances a spectator
might have supposed that the apparatus of death to
the sorry worldling or gaudy flutterer would not have
been less abhorred. At first sight I always shrink
[b]ut oh how suddenly do I collect myself—how
damaged [by] do I tread on the storms & mists of li[fe]
damaged the warm rays of of my M[a]
damaged Houghton: page 16;    Editors: page 14;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 With what designs in my head & heart do [I]
return? Oh Father of my spirit! I dare not
resolve—I foresee how little I shall accom
plish—I shrink—imbecillity of body will soon
arrest me— Yet I hope in God—a may be thy
mercy will assist me in a wonderfull manner
—this my dark disgracefull perieod (for I
have sinned) may be the one when the hand
of my Master may extricate me more happily
than it did the drowning Apostle. To my
improvement in virtue alone shall every ef
fort be made. I went to B. on friday with
sister F & Daniel—that day came DAW. & MS.
& Rogers—an incident of the most mortifying
kind took place—one which spoke a language per
haps { w’h | which } I should hear forever. No in the pur
suit of glory I’ll not heed it. It has died
in my memory.

20 Yes no pain but positive
pleasur. Studiied a little the holy scriptures read
the substance of { tow | two } { ser. | sermons }
25 pages of the last lay &
& 25 6 of Burke on x  political “state of nature” cul
[ture] &c.”
Not one idle inactive moment. God most mercifull
I praise thee!

21 Morn I have read a sermon
of Robinson’s
. My soul yields herself with delight
[to] faith & all it’s rapturous progeny!

Eve Positiv[e]
[hap]piness—& if not deluded, of the most rational damaged
[re]ad { tow | two } of the best sermons I ever read. damaged
damaged Tonight [the sen]timent[s of] fait[h]
 damaged Houghton: page 17b;    Editors: page 15;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damagedph in the hope of society, knowledge perfetion
[of eve]ry kind. My poverty of mind & all its brood
[of] infirmities I glory in in prospect of my pas
sions in Christ Jesus. At such times how eagerly
[my] heart pants to confer bliss—how it visits
[ev]ery familiar form & embraces their prosperity.


[2]4 A day of penetence & prayer for the past failures— How strongly im
presed my mind with what a few hours before { apd | appeared }
{ trival | trivial }. How important (indispensably so) for a { xian | christian } to
set apart such seasons. Never a more sad one—neve[r]
one { endued | endured } so warmly in faith & hope. I blessed God
I was out of punishment. Had I my deserts what
shame & pain would involve me! Blessed & ador
able Jesus—thy attonement how rich how adapted
to my condition. Blessed & adorable Saviour how mag
nificent thy gospel! Henceforth to honor & beautify
it shall be my sole design—rather than disgrace
it, oh pardon my sins and take me to thyself—
rather than mar & weaken its influence let my body be
sunk into the depthes of the sea or dispersed by
the vultures of the desert.

25. { sab. | sabbath }  eve. noon. I worshiped
as I wished in sadness, where I had not for 16 sabbaths
The last sunday I fully recall—the prospect of N P.
was dark, health &c &c feeble, but what an enthusi
[a]sm of tranquil endurance & of fervid emotions of
[bene]volence & pleasure endurance. The next at N.P. was mor[e]
damaged the objects the same, with which I fe[lt]
damaged God [mo]st mercifull cou[ld] damaged
damaged

Houghton: page 17;    Editors: page 16;    part of Tolman’s folder 2

Eve. How gratefull is penitence what a change [does]
it work by inducing new obedience—not a modamaged
not an object but now calls for my exertions.
Age & deformity shall have my tenderness. How dre
amy pleasure the most fascinating, & honor at vie[w]
of accountability—at aspiring like the eagle t[o]
mount
—to pursue glory which will outlive th[e]
works of nature. The fear of the Lord that is
wisdom—this I’ll follow—what fatness & mar
row will it give my faculties!

25. He who dont
value the bread {Handwritten addition: blood} end of handwritten addition of Christ and his offices never felt
the stings of sin & the demands of the law. I { thot | thought }
I never was so fallen— With what rapture must the
thief have received the promise of life
and
the infamous woman at the feet of Jesus her par
don!
Ah blessed gospel—while thy pardons are
applied to my guilty soul thy precepts shall
be ingraved on my heart & influence my life!
The { xian | christian } is engaged in a career the most grand
& important—his object is a character to be scrut
inised before the universe—live coeval with
elder spirits & in short it is connected with the
glory of God!! I tremble!

26. Were my character to
be lost amid the numerous worlds { w’h | which }, probably, inhab
it the universe, & undistinguished amid the infinite or
ders of intelligences, that no one wittness of it’s efforts
[sh]ould ever appear, yet the sole attributes of
[the] Deity would be enough to induce the mdamaged
[suffusion in the] att[r]ibutes of God damaged Houghton: page 18b;    Editors: page 17;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged they alone they only sanctify—they
[alon]e constitute { evey | every } idea & obligation of virtue
[gl]ory & happiness! They sanctify by their omni
[pr]esence { evey | every } virtuous affection, suffering & joy. An
[end]less seclusion from nature & society with thy
[fe]lt presence, oh source of all nature & beings,
[w]ho art connected with every event & passeth
{ thro’ | through } all existances, would render my self for ever dear
& valueable! My connection with thee by creation (for
thy pleasure) gives me inexpressible hope, and { tho’ | though }
lost by my depravity & forfeited by incessant (&
oh by Holy seeking guilt) failures, yet restored
and continued by the rich & magnificent offices of
my high Priest, induces faith & confidence { most | merit }
which passeth knowliegde .
.
God holy, infinite happy
myself—unholy, minute feelble & often unhappy.
And I find society in these contradictions—hope
springs
— God with all his perfections loves me
with me with all my miseries— with an
everlasting love with loving kindness truth he
drawn me.
“Before the { xian | christian } religion had as
it were humanised the idea of the Divinity, &
{ bro’t | brought } it as it were somewhat nearer to us, there
[w]as little said about the love of God. The followers
[of Plato] had somthing of it, & only somthing, the othe[r]
[writers of] pagan [an]tiquity, whether Poets or philosophers,
[nothing at all. And they who] [consider] with [what] Houghton: page 18;    Editors: page 18;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 infinite attention, by what a disregard of i[m]
perishable object, { thro’ | through } what long habits of [piety]
& contemplation it is, any man is able to attain [an]
intire love & devotion to the Deity, will easily
perceive that it is not the first, the most
striking natural, and the most striking effect
which proceeds from that idea.”
 Burke
 

28 I went on wed
nesday to C—d with brother Daniel & returned today
I fear I did not do right in going & regret it, { tho’ | though }
I enjoyed the ride—self possesion—social & tender
affections—yet since I returned I have sinned.—
I erred there. How excruciating.

29 Awaked to penitnce
how human & impenitent—what a { restranst | restraint } on my
self against pleasure. The 18 { chap. | chapter } of { Mat. | Matthew } how awfull
it’s instructions.

30 { sab | sabbath } morn. Glowing with life,
with health & hope I praise God! But I fear I am
lacking in that wisdom so grand so indispensable.
Yet when I antisapate sickness & destitution, in all
its forms of mortifying the poor affections I find
myself invironed by the presence of the infinite
God—& I rejoice— I rejoice that the very
nessisity of His adorabled nature unites my
existance to his omnipresence. Should his fires visi
tation of affliction be in anger for my departu[re]
[from] truth & {Handwritten addition: of} end of handwritten addition practical holiness would not my spirit damaged
damaged Houghton: page 19b;    Editors: page 19;    part of Tolman’s folder
lyexcised
haexcised
pexcised
neexcised
glexcised
&excised
th excised
a mexcised
hisexcised
to excised
heexcised
naexcised
losexcised
thexcised
arexcised
dinexcised
likexcised
ucexcised
Houghton: page 19;    Editors: page 20;    part of Tolman’s folder
excisedut
excisedts
excisede
excisedger
excisedte
Houghton: page 20b;    Editors: page 21;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged without activity) lose their cha[rm]s when we
[are sen]sible of the divine perfections—a fullness &
damaged as I have before said a silent wittness of his
[wor]ks & attributes and I should be forever happy.
What
damaged rities of happiness has He already indowed me
[wi]th! Never insufficient to the sweetest tranquility
[a]nd unremitting exertions but when depraved by
mingling in the views pursuits & { passiins | passions } of others.
I broke my engagments already or forgot them & wan
[de]red in the bewitching paths of fancy. How alarming such
[d]isorder—sin it’s concommittant. I tremble for what I’ve lost,
and for what I must do. Very clear ideas of this state
of probation connected by all it’s deeds with future glory.
Away with devout prayers—faith in a Mediator’s respo[n]
sibility
—delight at { tho’t | thought } of death, & assurance of salviation
because of the leading features of { xianity | christianity } .
Nothing short
of standing complete & perfect —of imitating Jesus Christ in
every trait of his { imitable | inimitable } & sacred character shall hence
forth be my object. My wisdom & glory to feel superior to
those pleasurs { w’h | which } are innocent in { ’emselves | themselves } & inchanting
—not designed for my constitution—better for those
who are colder, & less { solitious | solicitous } for future advance.
The greater they are the greater to forgo them. With ot
th{ ose | ere } I’ll pass the late injury & dare my chamber
[ e ] ternity is before me—and I may sensibly notice by
damaged tinsity of habit more than my cotemporaries expect:
damagedtever divine attributes belong to my Saviour,
damaged example for us, and the more grand damaged
damaged his [wonder] damaged Houghton: page 20;    Editors: page 22;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 and the more z[eal]ously we { sd | should } aspire to [those]
same heights of perfection.

9 What a m[orn]
ing of worship! Sweetest highest day— Lotts damaged
done & nothing suffered—but what was done
—performed in unremitting obedience. What [is]
truth I love God with all my heart and mi [nd.]
One proof is that I when I contemplate the d[ay]
light of an open & abundant entrance —when [I]
feel the whole force of anxity to rise in the scale
of moral excellence it is from motives of love, of
fear of obedience to God rather than ambition—
it is to be fully receivd by Him— conformity
to his will
that stimulates me. His will my
delight,
and while I see the world before, and
contemplate happier myriads in Heaven than
myself I press on to do my utmost to be found
of Him in peace. His will gives me my { tabel | talent }
and I rejoice in it.

10 Weak day—closed a painfull
business—never, never more to resume it.— what has
it not cost me? Perpetually convinced that I am privi
ledged above others—but that I must not seek for any
thing they injoy—what scenes of abstraction of angelic
joy of peece of elevated pleasurs lie before me Once
cut the ties of earth and an spiritual { ixestance | existence }
commences!

11 Yes, and I viewd with delight the
[g]limmering sun this dreary morning & said its ligh[t]
[a]id me to founder when do a work that would
damaged age & dyi[ng] hours. Walked thdamaged Houghton: page 21b;    Editors: page 23;    part of Tolman’s folder
{ p | j | h | k } excised
sexcised
(excised
scexcised
ceexcised
enexcised
toexcised
sexcised
Houghton: page 21;    Editors: page 24;    part of Tolman’s folder
excisede
excisede
exciseds
Houghton: page 22b;    Editors: page 25;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged ut I run—& fancy was v[ict]or—alass—
damaged [memb]er a colder storm—never a day of more ardor in
damaged nate devotion & literature. At eve in ironing fancy
damaged the intire guidance. Alass no more fear of God—
[Hora]ce said it was the last effort of philosophicaly to
[fortitu]de to [con]template the immense & glorious structer of the univese without
[wi]thout terror & amazement.”
To feel this what would
[b]e the worth of existence how inlarged how sanc
[t]ified.

13 Day of literary reading & good spirits. Eve
the uncommon solemnity.

14 { sab. | sabbath } eve. When I am rid
of this cold putrid body I shall adore & worship as
elder spirits do. A joyous day but not victorious.

15
Visited P. Wait—little impression { fom | from } reflecting on the
variety of scenes, of sympathy friendship—&—vanity
& errors passed in 18 months & little from the pros
pects of those to come. Said just the things I { sd | should } not
lost command of my fancy in going.

16 Day of joy &
reading.
Can I hope too largely when He who made
yon skies is the only Being I am connected with.


17. A being possessed of senses which illegible correspond
to the objects of magnifiicent nature & supply
me with involuntary rapture—with reason—
with sensibility—with moral agency—the grand
foundation of my connection with God and all per
haps, that that imparts of future glory—with sym
pathy love & friendship & benevolence—with the[se]
[my] heart bounds forward with too frequent exul[t]
damagedt—for all these gifts are idle mean damaged
damaged Houghton: page 22;    Editors: page 26;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 zeal in the cause of holiness. By joy I crdamaged
off my gourd—bitter let me feel it.
Company damaged
the same I had a year since—was not so e[le]
vated—absolutely disgusted with the task an[d]
I was just animated to be decent. From su[ch]
society what lurking monitions arise that I
shall one be among better. I took care of my
w{ ea | or }k folks with pleasure but there are some
with bodies of ladies so disgusting to reason
& refinement that to shrink is not { antibenvo
lint
| antibenevolent }
. I hope God will forgive me if I pass at
first penitence for the guilt of the day, in thank[s]
giving for my being. Alone with Him—ever
with Him—in every individual instant of
my existence, whether alive or dead—here on
earth, or in the uttermost parts of Heaven
or in the abodes of Hell!

18 Morn. What sig
nifies the paltry speculations of Philosophers & Divines
about the immediate agency of the great God?
Convinced only of his infinity—of his omnipresence
and it matters not whether his material or
mental laws are effected in their operation by
his perpetual agency or by qualities indowed
by Him ages agone! In either case it is abdamaged
[His] will and man’s accountability, { tho’ | though } damaged
damagedtant damaged Houghton: page 23b;    Editors: page 27;    part of Tolman’s folder
nexcised
hexcised
oexcised
texcised
Houghton: page 23;    Editors: page 28;    part of Tolman’s folder
excisedes
excised d
exciseds
Houghton: page 24b;    Editors: page 29;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damaged the weakness of damaged and the sym
[pathy] of feeling

Eve—never a more exalted moment
[than] that { w’h | which } penned the above—one ten minuttes
damaged a stranger appeared—only a friend— Sweet
[memor]ies best & noblest where did ye flee! Ah my
[hear]t is in tears—over the departed morning! Tokens
[of] affection, esteem & friendship { thro’ | through } the medium of
damagedcial hour—dearly purchased—I loathe ye—the
immaculate manners of devotion sped in your inter
[c]ourse. “God of our Fathers what is man” ; never com
pletely happy but at thy feet in adoration. Yet I erred
[n]ot I was unusually fortunate yet I hate the morn
& the day. I walked to rid myself of the impression.
I wrote to MVS. I panted to give pleasur amid my
own disgust of my own self.

19 Morn. Whoever read Vir
gil
’s account of the dead & doubted whether the soul of
man is not impressed with religion by the hand of
it’s Creator— —prepared for revelation. How sublime
& pious the suggestion that the souls of the happy
are united to the Deity.

Eve Night. Painful day { thro’ | through }
damagedsptuo{ r | s | n }. Past eve. out enjoyed it—erred in return most
foolishly. Such is the l{ a | o }ws of my constitution that there
is somthing of nessisity attached in my errors when
I am social. Therefore it seems my wisdom to
[a]void relaxation however stupid my life. Let m[e]
[be] but innocent and let others shine & inspdamaged
damaged 

Noon. I cannot with every experiment keep
damagedtudamaged I am [sa]d—be it [more] damaged Houghton: page 24;    Editors: page 30;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 the feet of Him [to l]ove—if no fortitude can [coun]
teract them meekness shall make them “peris damaged
an hour after & Rogers & R Hurd came—lost the
day— How fervently I desire to see nothing int[er]
esting here

21 Erred morn. Zealous day at { chh | church } & damaged


22 Never did nature inrapture me so. I pant as
the hart to taste &c
—to grow in knowledge & vir
tue. What delusion & madness to forfeit the smal
est advantage in a future world whose laws are
permanent; to the most splendid in this. Yet
today the rovings of fancy have deluded my reason


23. Never a morning more rapt & eve. The same
drudgery of company a year agone. How misterious the
power { w’h | which } renovates as it were our ardor; our pati
ence our freshness of pleasurs. Never could a party
of fanatics be more odious than this and never was
a r{ ich | eek }er evening.

25. Yesterday & today read dilligently
—suffered from my eyes and close struggles with ig
norance & doubts. { Receivd | Received } letters from Miss { R | H }—d MVS
and Mr. White. I can sleep quietly, { tho’ | though } the { tow | two } last give
me pleasur. Oh Solitude thou nurse of sense
Where the free soul looks down & pitys Kings.

How abstracted & calm

26. I don’t know what doubt
means respecting the truths facts of related in the
[s]criptures. It may be owing to ignorance of the { r | n }esdamaged
damagedirs of scepticism, { tho’ | though } when conversant wit[h]
damaged [on]ly inlivened my [fa]ith damaged Houghton: page 26b;    Editors: page 31;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 damagedill or rather their modes of existing are
damagedning. But the bible brings it’s own evidence
damaged meeting with internal evidence. Were man
damagedid of permanent { pininiples | principles }—merely the creature
[of] habit—or totally depraved there would be no
[suc]h thing as internal evidence for the { exitxtance | existence } of
[Go]d and the justicee of his law. Were the bible
[a] fiction, and the I not shaken in the faith of God
[a]nd his moral { govt | government }, I { sd | should } be happy & pious; after hav
[i]ng been formed on the plan of the gospel rules. I
feel that while the first great Cause of beauty
& holiness lives I shall be happy. Were physical
nessisity
(the meanest of all doctrines) true I should
be happy if God were the agent. But God is a
moral agent, and wonderfull as the gift, he hath
given moral agency to men. Astonishing gift
they who would loosen the obligations of moral
accountability say, “would you take the merit of your
salvation would bring God in debt”?
Miserable, more
miserable, most miserable deduction! God infinite
and eternal, hath inhanced the gift of salvation
[by] a contrivance of benevolence so grand that the
damagedbjects of it cannot believe it. Believin[g]
damaged Houghton: page 26;    Editors: page 32;    part of Tolman’s folder 2 { glimsp | glimpse } of this light from Godhead. It is damaged
imperfect view any can have of this divin[e]
act of goverment. The holy cabinet is surrounde[d]
with clouds & darkness
; and we must not go too
near { least | lest } we die.
The ark which contained a[ll]
the revealed law was covered with the wings
of cherubims
these would incite rather than
repress devotion—the law was known to all
the purposes of obedience—the whole scheme of
{ govt | government } and all it’s relations which extend { thro’ | through }
ages past & future cannot be comprehended by
man. In view of the parts he must adore with
the seraphim who cover their faces and with
those Angels who cast their crowns at the divine feet


damaged of damaged couny damaged
damaged am the woes of the nessitiores with damaged
damaged life giving hopes of future riches & joys!
[T]he Author concludes that he believes this world
the Bedlam of the universe—if so a natural state
unsustained by law by custom by “acts & facts
those acts to aid”
what theatre of extreme wret
chedness?
It seems that to have a natural state
in any way tolerable there { sd | should } be an entire equal
ity in the intellect & corporeal community. And then
the torpid, savage state exhibits its { fairst | fairest } tints

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 3), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 26 December 1806–c. 22 May 1807. Malden, Newburyport, Boston, and Concord, Massachusetts. 14 MS sheets, bearing considerable damage due to burning, foxing, and water; folder also includes many MS scraps with either no text or too little text to discern or transcribe.

This Almanack opens with MME calling attention to it as “the record of virtue . . . of the history of a soul.” She reflects on her recent behavior, cataloging her errors and penitence and vowing to “do better” and to be worthy of divine grace. Tensions in her life at this time are reflected in many passages describing her unease with the terms of the property sale of the Malden estate of which MME was more than three-fifths owner. This Almanack reflects her reading of Alexander Pope’s Dunciad, the writings of Anglican bishop Joseph Butler, and the sermons of eighteenth-century British theologian Robert Robinson. Moreover, on what the editors speculate is 30 January 1807, this fascicle documents MME’s apparent refusal of a marriage proposal from an unidentified suitor. Other personal matters recorded here are the continuing serious illness of MME’s sister in Newburyport, Hannah Emerson Farnham, who died from tuberculosis on 27 March 1807. A month later, MME traveled to Boston when her nephew, John Clarke Emerson, died at age seven on 26 April. Ralph Waldo Emerson transcribed several of this fascicle’s pages in his MME Notebook 2; substantive differences between his transcriptions and MME’s text are encoded in this interface display.

Houghton: page 40;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

Malden 18061806

1806-12-26 [D]ecember 26 1806 . Never was the a date mandated issued from the hand of roy
alty more important than the above. It is related to days & ages
beyond this sphere. It is the record of virtue—the beginning of a
portion of the history of a soul—struggling with weakness & ignor
ance and opposite appetites to the pure state of Heaven!
God
of infinite power & love aid the being before thee to honor thee
& herself in this little history. Bless her with no common &
ordinary portion of thy wisdom—all else is dust and ashes! This
day so dark—so incumbered hath been filled—yes filled
with devotion—zeal—patience & joy.

27 Morn. The morning
dawns with rapture on me— What was I a few weeks since?
With what abhorrence I recall social duties { w’h | which } led to weakness.
The passions agitated me—but it is no more—the cold
moon beams have drank it—the air—the light of the
far distant orbs have scattered it—have purged my mind
a cloud of wittnesses has beheld my divorcement from
sense—my ascent from earth. Have seen me laugh at age
& poverty & destitution. But this moment of transport must
give place to humbler graver purer services

Night. “Little
end of the horn.”
Governed my temper.

28. { Sab. | Sabbath } morn. It has been
the employment of ages to account for moral & { phisial | physical } evil
in a world created by infinite benevolence. And it is by
not unnatural nor impious. Were there no misteries in
the “ways” of God, there would be no infinite Being.
And
finite existance would look forward without the
nameless charms of hope & { curioity | curiosity }. Freedom of will
—the inestimable gift of moral agency and capasity
[to] obtain the favor of God must alone solve the dif
[fic]ulty & account for the origin of sin. That e[vil] damaged Houghton: page 40b;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 speculation may conjure a thousand labyrnths is { the | tre } damaged
—so it may find in the construction of the earth
a multitude of deformities—but the earth remains
a witness of the power wisdom & goodness of God
operating by general laws the benefit of the whole;
and man as a religious & accountable creature a last
ing monument of the eminent goodness of his Maker.
The defects of nature are the first & immutable lessons
of futurity considering the world the creature of a good God.
— they bespeake the order & extent of a progressive
& diversified univerce. We are an inferior chain in the
link of beings
at present—governed in some measure
by the nesisity of exterior causes, yet free to all the
purposes of reward & punishment. To those who compre
hend nothing beyond their senses who behold nothing
of progress & endless diversity in the works of God find
a easy { soultion | solution } to every inexplicable feature in providen[ce]
by the imputation of Adam’s sin. And that the first
proginitors introduced the habit of sin is undoubtedly
true. To those incapable of looking farther, and we are
not obliged to look beyond (no plan could be more easily
digested, than that of imputation.
For my own trials, I
can find nothing I wish altered—can contrive no sta[te]
so favorable to, & preparatory for the pure joys of a
[He]aven than the pains & exertions of earth.

Eve one
damaged [ap]parently trifling) habit it consequences—ask f[or]
damaged [virtu]e it worth? Think of God!!

Houghton: page 39;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

29. Today saw my father & Sister Ripley. How unexp
pected! How calm the pleasur—how sweet it’s
remembrance. She is a growing { xian | christian }— Dreadfull eve. I sinned.


30 Papa returned Erred a little—

31. Closed the year
cheerfully. Jan 1-7, {Handwritten addition: 1807} end of handwritten addition Began it with the most elevated
devotion—a moment and I made a foolish bargain, { tho | though }
I added to my estate yet I had rather be without it
than to have descended.
 2. Is it possible I { sd | should } err so
[fro]m warmth of feeling— 3. Worked. 4 { sab. | sabbath } eve. Fatigued
beyond devotion—inrapturing duties—lessened the
pains of the destitute & sick. { Chh | Church } in the afternoon—
{ thoroughly | tho roughly } awake to worship— I ask no more. 4 To give
so much pleasur to beings whom I { tho’t | thought } incapable of
any is pleasant. It is with [n]o comon measur of gra
titude I behold servants & their children, the poor
& dispised brighten as I approach. It was what I never
calculated [RWE: thought]—to benefit—to riot in the bestowment of
the “mite” was all I considered—it’s consequent pleasures are
dearer than all the joys of fancy. 5 What a { morng. | morning }
what a descent—angry at a poor old man because he
was loath to let me have my money. Ridiculous. How
did I urge it on my Father to do more for me—that
every adventitious gift hitherto was trifling, I asked
I needed I hungered for so much more.
The uni
verse fades before me I ask nothing but nearer con
formity to Him I love supremely. Angels & prince
doms—I press in imajanation nearer to the throne
[of] my Priest my King and Saviour than you!
The
{ [ric][hig] }hest joys are those of communion. God may be [better] Houghton: page 39b;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 his own Almoner than I, if I feel vanity or the
soil soil of littleness! There is an awfull—a sublime
and unspeakable duty of self preservation in the con
stitution of man—immortal man, who is to live with
a holy God forever—before which all publick &
social duties diminish (only as connected with this
one infinite object) and perish with the dust
when the earth is burnt. 7. After all that I sinned.
But I’ll hope & struggle & hope & struggle Papa consents
that I { sd | should } sell the place.
I teaed at Parson’s [RWE: took tea at the Parson’s]. Never felt
more depressed because I found marks of human na
ture smale marks upon me. Oh grave grave when
wilt thou open!

8. Dullish day but promises to end
well—{ precous | precious } day for I retrace no error—remember
with delight the figure of porcupine age—of my
poor guest of no omission. Ages hence and this day
will be splendid compared to the lively ones Take from
me oh my Father health, knowledge food & home
frendship & reptutation—only leave me in the full
possesion of advancing virtue—conformity to t {Handwritten addition: T} end of handwritten additionhee.
I love thee. I know it—and yet I am not every
thing I { sd | should } be—love Thee in all thy manifested
perfections—respect those laws which I think thro’ {Handwritten addition: ow} end of handwritten addition
me at a distance from thy immediate agency, and
bewilder my researches—if governed by general
laws and my disasters to be retrived by no other
m[e]thod, I submit without a murmur. Houghton: page 38;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

9. There is a faith in our character the most cheering { w’h | which }
amid discouraging events keeps us up. { Tho’ | Though } I have sinned by
the provacation I { reced | received } sinned very much, passionatly yet I feel that
my penitence and restitution is accepted that I shall get on
in many respects better, that it spoke not the temper of
my life but accident. Still my soul shrinks back at the
retrospect & loathes life—a capasity to sin so badly—
My God pity me. I want humility by nature & of late
by habit. Ah the dismal story of Sir Balaam but too
well paints the radical defects of human nature.
Oh
immense power of circumstances—give me absolute desti
tution if that increase virtue. The most lasting &
fervent desire on earth is to be placed among my { acknowl | acknowledg }
ed superiors in talent & virtue. How { sd | should } I grow—how exult!
Did they dispise me, I { sd | should } associate with more zeal with
God himself

10. Positive overbalance of devotion virtue &
pleasue. Read the most of the Dunciad. Enjoyed much higher
the elegant sermon of Robinson.

11 { sab | sabbath } morn. I cannot
but respect the conclusion of some sceptics when they
rest on this conclusion that God exists and their own
idintity. Thou existest oh Father of spirits and I exist!
And here I find endless cause for exultation. Whether
the material world be or appear is indifferent
—whether
those whom I can care or console be, or appear is of
little importance while there is an abolute certainty
of my virtue by means of these appearances. Thus in
feeling one rests contented with these speculations;
[b]ut when we trace it’s consequences, and find it
[s]ubverts all rational proof of revelation, especially of the
[min]isty of Christ, and of practical morality we m[ust] Houghton: page 38b;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 expunge it with contempt. It is not like many errors
which { tho’ | though } they strive to cast us from our rock of
safty
in Jesus Christ, yet weaken not our hold on
the immutable, the inexpressibly delightfull faith
of a God—governing us by instruments of sense
no way delusive—revealing himself by means
real & tangible and connecting us with a uni-
verse: filled with { perciepient | percipient } { bings | beings } of { evey | every } { grade. | gradient }


Eve. Tranquil pleasure. Had I a Preacher that was alive!
I planned a visit—erred again in { tho’ts | thoughts } vain. This eve.
alive to devotion. Ask of my father ages & ages of glory
in beholding Him—what does such a request demand
in my life? I pray for others—for to do them good
but with more zeal that God would Himself do
them good and give me to rejoice therin.— And
I have ever rejoiced.

16 The four past days wer cold
beyond cerculation, and negative existence. If virtue thrivs
no matter—those who would leave some vestige of thier
footsteps—some labour of their hands—these must inev
itably perish—but a history ingraved with that of { Mar
trys
| Mar
tyrs
}
to virtue—with powers & princdoms—a his
tory that may be coeval with eternity is alone worthy
the ambition of ransomed souls.


19. The { eveg. | evening } of the last day went to Lynn—too high
spirits— Mr White dined here. Saturday went to Mr.
Popkins
tarried till 7 to my sorrow. Committed levity
talking about the fashion. Erred foolishly after m[y]
return—yestrdy { sab | sabbath } had more had not had damaged
[read ][Eloi]sa Houghton: page 36b;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

20. Last. night I spoke { tow | two } sentences about that foolish
place when Uncle Wait asked me to give money to
Mrs B. { w’h | which } I most bitterly lament.
Not because { yy | they }
were improper but they arose from anger. It is difficult when
we have no kind of { berrier | barrier } to command our feelings
But this shall teach me. It humbles me beyond any
thing I ever [have] met, to find myself for a moment af
fected with hope fear or damaged especially anger about
interest—but I did { overome | overcome } & return kindness for
the repeated provocations I’ve had. What is it
my Uncle has been the means of { { lessing | lessening } | leasing } my por
perty— Ridiculous to wound him for that. He was
honestly seeking his own. But at last this very night
the bargain is closed and I am delighted with my
self—my dear self has done well—{ tho’ | though } I would not
help on a bargain yet after effecting all Mrs. B.
wished from the men I gave her 20 dollars in fu
ture. Never did I so exult at a trifle. Happy { beginng | beginning }
of my bargain—{ tho’ | though } the sale of the place appears one [RWE: to me]
of the worst things for [me or] at this time.

21 Weary
at times with objects so tedious to hear to see—oh the
power of vision—the delicate power of the nerve { w’h | which } re
ceives impressions from sounds If ever I am blest with
a social life let the accent be gratefull. Could I at
times be regaled with musick it would remind me
that there are sounds— Shut up in this severe
weather with carefull infirm afflicted age—it is [won]
derfull my spirits—hopes I can have n[one]
[Not] a { perspect | prospect } but [is dark on earth, as to
knowledge]
Houghton: page 36;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 & joy from externals, but the { perspect | prospect } of a dying
bed reflects lustre on all the rest.

22. The eve
is fine but I dare not enjoy it. The moon & stars
reproach me—because I had to do with mean
fools { sd | should } I take so much care to save a few dollars
Never was I so much ashamed—did I say with
what rapture I might damaged dispose of them to the
poor—pho, self preservation—dignity—confidence
in the future—contempt of trifles—alass I am
disgraced. Took a momentary revenge on age for
wronging me

23. Read Elosia —but stupid.

24 A day
of penitence—enjoyed more calm & rational { enjoyt | enjoyment } than
a fortnight of less exaction.

25. { sab | sabbath } morn. God most
holy I praise thee—created by thee a spirit—here
is everlasting cause for joy all adventitious advantages are
lost.

26. Cold { extra. | extraordinary } one error only.

27 {Handwritten addition: 8} end of handwritten addition . A spirit, & capable
of loving the Almighty—his name—his attributes,
give me delight. Bless me even me oh my Father
render me capable of higher enjoyment hereafter
whether poverty labour ignorance & destitution continue to attend
me, or independance knowledge & influence, either
that will capasitate me for Heaven more ef
fectually.

28 Is it possible that old man whom I
have so long gratuitously served could serve injure me so? Well
I was warm, too much so, { tho’ | though } it was rather matter
[of specu] [la]tion & sentiment with the justice than
[anger. I still feel resentment,—to manage] Houghton: page 37b;    Editors: page 9;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 it with gentleness is all my concern. If we cannot imi
tate the Deity in his purity wisdom & glory, we can
in his clemency & forbearance. How far these { sd | should } operate
against acknowledge {Handwritten addition: demonstrate} end of handwritten additiond guilt I know not. { Sd | Should } I join in
familiarity with such { wd | would } it not lessen my abhorrence
to guilt?? { Sd | Should } I act from motives of selfish charity
and forgive others that I may be forgiven— God for
bid.— a charity holier and purer than that I’ll
practice. or none. What a singular preservation
from sacreficing my property to chance? How truly
how delightfull my gratitude to the justice? I { wd | would }
not have that accident recalled, { tho’ | though } I might, it { wd | would }
be seem, do better. And I shall do better—this awful mo
ment { w’h | which } divides the polluted past from the spotless,
the tremedous future beholds me doing better: It is
sacred to the confidence of faith & humiliation.

29.
I might, I ought to have done better. I have no ambition.
But when oppressed with these objects { w’h | which } limit my ap
prehensions & chill my affections I enjoy the power of hope
—that the time may hasten when I shall ripen more
rapidly & be ready to depart with honor to myself and
{ xianity | christianity }.

30 I walked to Capt Dexters—sick—promised
never to put that ring on.

31. Ended miserably
the month { w’h | which } began so worldly. Consigned the day
to sorrow—tooth ache—

Feb. 1. { sab | sabbath } eve. One of the
most gloomy days—confined to the fire side with
out devotion.

2. One single sarifice of just { resentt | resentment }
damaged and I felt for that happy instant bin[di] [ng] Houghton: page 37;    Editors: page 10;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 my self to the throne of the Author of mercy and
truth. And God has in the infinitude of his goodnes
obligated Himself to reward every sarifice to { obidence | obedience }
A creature can forgive and { rward | reward }—but God
renders himself in debt to do it { thro’ | through } the riches
of divine grace—a grace so rich & divine that
cold & narrow { xians | christians } cannot understand— they at
tribute his gifts to his arbitary elections; and
not to those immutable laws of righteouness
by which he chooses to act & to which he
binds his creatures. Such is the nature of
his { gov | government } and the order of the univerce it ap
pears. Still the elections of God are incontro
vertible. If we retrospect with awe & delight
an { incomprehensille | incomprehensible } eternity, election fastens on
us intuitively. It was the choice of the Eternal
that gave to the glowing Seraph his joys &
to me my vile imprisonment.
I adore Him—it
was his will that gives my superiors to shine
in wisdom freindship & ardent pursuits,
while I pass my youth—it’s last traces in
the { verest | veriest } shades of ignorance and complete
[de]stitution of society. I praise Him, { tho’ | though } when my
[strength] of body [fau]lters it is a trial not easily descibed Houghton: page 35;    Editors: page 11;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

5 Yesterday I { past | passed } in devotion on account of a beloved
and faulty—— The effect was to open invisible pros
pects on my own heart. Today I tasted all the
agitations of friendship in seeing my dear White
& dearer Sarah in letter’s from the estimable &
amiable &c &c But so invincible are the laws
of matter that a sluggishness gathering at my
heart, for some time past, never left me.
amid all my convulsions of joy. She is very dear
to me.

6. I ask for those assistances which will will
most rapidly develop my powers & culture my affections.
May it be said that it is as well to ask for eter
nal life and endless glory as the free gift of God
and for immediate possesion, as for all these heav
y roundabout means. True, all is a gift—exist
ence is a p[re]sent full & unspeakable. But as God
chooses means of accomplishing the grandest events
we must act on that plan. And { tho’ | though } I never wish
for temptation, knowing my frailty, { tho’ | though } I would not
for the sake of a long life willingly repass the
labours & dangers of that I’ve trod, yet I should
not dare to accept of Heaven now on {Handwritten addition: by} end of handwritten addition my own
choice; were the remainder of my life to be
{ past | passed } in as dark a manner as formerly. Nor { sd | should }
I dare, were it lawfull to redeem a friend from
[d]eath by my own ({ tho’ | though } I have not a shadow of
[do]ubt of my salvation by the economy of grace) Houghton: page 35b;    Editors: page 12;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 unless I knew they were unprepared. Sweet as
the prospect of dying with a name unsullied,
and returning to God in the prime of life, yet
in looking into an unknown & endless future
there is an intuitive hope—a nameless expec
tancy
[RWE: expectation] of increased happiness that bids us suf
fer every thing than hazard the loss of any de
gree of glory—a capasity to enjoy the more
immediate presence of the Deity—! Heavens
what hazards may await a probationer [RWE: probation]!?

7. Stupid
my brother came with a Miss Win— possessed—did
{ evey | every } thing—not marred [RWE: warned] by his letter. Such a visit
sits better on recollection than the turbulent ones.


8 { sab | sabbath } eve. Most tedious day & { eveg | evening } .

9. Stupid rather


10. Rode { tol. | tolerably } [talked] enjoyed a simple scene.

11  { Esqr | Esquire } Green
came, enjoyed converse. Went to Parsons a delightfu[ll]
walk—lost every impression by cold hearts—the
sickly frost niped all my pleasurs. But what was
truly disastrous got rid of their visiting me ra
ther unfairly.

12. There is a sweet & inestimable
repose like sadness, but mine is rather { heavir | heavier }
than I could wish. Could a moments mirth or recr[ea]
tion stir my blood I { sd | should } like it. The sadness of my
approaching employment would be lightened. The
same disastrous objects which are baubles to a
light heart, add to the weight of a heavy
[one.] damaged Houghton: page 34;    Editors: page 13;    part of Tolman’s folder 3


18071807

Newyport Feb. 18. 1807 I came here yesterday { thro’ | through } Beverly where I
tarried with Mr White. Mercifull God, what a scene of care
labour & grief do I find myself in.
Thou bowest me
down. I adore & love thee. I commit to thee the inter
ests of my health & sanctification—the interests of my
departing Sister—mercifull Father—and the children
—! How much I need of thee—how much I expect
from thee. I beginn a new life—free—oh { mecifil | merciful }
God—from levity, pride flattery, folly & weakness.
Today I remember none—but a depression—and who
beholds this scene without grief—they must be stones.


19. A day of freedom from error &c.

20. Alass.

21. Devotion &
pleasure.

22. { sab | sabbath }. Worshiped without ardor { past | passed } the eve. with
Miss B. capable of anger at a trifle. Lost I fear on
the whole—mean pleasures & pains.

23. Morn. If strenght
of importunity at view of my moral miseries, if pressing
on the promises & grandeur of God, inlarge & sanctify I
must suceed. I urge my arguments— I despise all his
gifts if He does not communicate His sanctifying influenc[e]
to my spirit. There will aggrandise—if He withholds, &
I must continue to use the mean efforts which have
so often been difiled with weakness—well—the lowest
offices I have welcomed— Yet oh God—this tardy
progress—Ifif a useless uninteresting object to other[s]
[le]t me but preserve my purity & sense of g[rand] damaged Houghton: page 34b;    Editors: page 14;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

[2]7. That very hour of the 23 I was angry and impatient
with my sick charge— But I veiw not this as others
do— When I am sick I hope to be indulged in no impro
per conduct. Still I felt & did wrong had she been well.
24 was & 25 is forgotten. 25 was most precious when I
went to bed—so was yesterday—{ tho | though } tedious to { induer | endure }.
So is today—dolerous & heavy at heart as confinement
without exertion is depressing. But I adore & love God
—and every dark path is welcome. I rejoice that others
are in health & prosperity. The personal { concens | concerns } of
my—I leave most confidently with God—were they
brighter I {Handwritten addition: t} end of handwritten addition hey would be brighter—and—the general
laws of nature which are the appointments of God would
operate on so yeilding a subject as myself. But whe
ther I should be in reality happier?—as— “worth
conscious worth should absolutely reign
& other joys ask
leave”

March. 3 The cause of order of truth are
the cause of God—so is gentleness—contempt of trifle[s,]
—then, saving truth, I have defiled the univerce
God most holy let me tremble—in my best momen[ts]
I ask as the richest gift—a temper awed and contrite
28 I erred— { 1t | First } followed low— 2 at night unlovely & sdamaged
of this { morng | morning }. I who would fear & hope nothing beneat[h]
the favor of God have expressed anger at being in damaged
damaged [d]ed.— Vanity to— Let this day be ask damaged

Houghton: page 33;    Editors: page 15;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

[4]. Walked yesterday after such a resolution—to benefit a friend in
shoping— Heavens! How minute the benefit—and how
terrible the consequences—sport with a resolution made in
favor of advancement! Mr P. visited & prayed with—
lost devotion—injured the feelings of the sick and the well.
Lost temper. I bend beneathe the terror of retrospect of late
months. Oh God I love thee—lay hold of thy strenght—&
yet oppose thy designs of love and mercy towards me. Were
full capasity of sin—moral agency not put to the { sarced | sacred }
uses of immortality! God knows I never intended to impose
on Him nor others—yet I may deceive others. Wan[t]
of charity—how painfull— I need humility—that
most firmly places me at my most revered Masters
feet where I do most love—obedience raises me by his
hand to walk on the waves with him
—charity—{ meriful | merciful }
Power) gives me to lean on him next

5. Papa came last eve—
good day till night I sinned— Where is my penitence. 6
Well till eve—{ govened | governed } my temper—most delightfull frame
more than last—ah could I retrive it.— but social life,
{ tho’ | though } on religion, marred it.

6 Well till I painted a defect

7. Sat. eve. Most rich devotions but marred by vain { tho’ts | thoughts }
today. How is it possible that repeated resolutions can be
so trifled with. I sport like a fool with my price
[H]ave mercy upon me oh God of mercy! I will begin
[to] do better— Heavens, when [I s]hould [hav] [e] damaged Houghton: page 33b;    Editors: page 16;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

8. Trifled with a few moments and lost devotions—lost
perhaps the succeeding day by a cold—awfull possibili
ty. Had a tooth out in the { eveg | evening }. Mr White { bro’t | brought } good news.


10. Devotional forenoon—painfull afternoon, but lost no ground.


11 Washing day & fatigue—ended most happily remote from
all human influence.

12 Noon. What a day—so sacred—penitent
for my past trifling— I swear in the name of Him who is my
Mediator
to renounce every pleasure & connection which { wd | would }
interrupet my communion—marr the grandeur of my
prospects—and defile the purity of the { xian | christian } light. That
character must be misguided who professing Christ is not
humble.

Night most dolerous day erred from—& suffered from
the most unpardonable of all causes—human influence—
—descended to be hurt—yes, I never suffer from human
causes, any injury to my feelings for the { persent | present }, but
I must have crept, whe{ re | n } [when], had I been all I might
& ought—I should have soared like the eagle & basked
in the rays of light joy & serenity.

13. Heavens—
borne on the full tide of existence—one fatal mo
ment levelled me with ordinary life— How must my
enymy have exalted over a weight in the scale of
deformity—it was mere levity & littleness. Surrounded
in every instant of my journey by little means—less
virtues & less vices—oh! Oh! till then what a day!
{ tho’ | though } smale it made way for greater.

14 What a day
of sucess—and tormented with error after all—broke resoluteon.
I might have done better { tho’ | though } whatt I erred from weak
ness not principle. We talk of grace—but what grace lik[e]
[that] [wh] [i]ch saves us by sanctifying our powers by inveterat Houghton: page 32;    Editors: page 17;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 ate habits of obedience. Grace is not powerfull in
principle if not apparent in habit.

15 { sab. | sabbath } noon. I
have been weake for many moments. God most holy I
plead thy promises— I bring the arguments of my misery
—do more for me—crushed by exteriors—appear for my
spirit—if I cannot serve thee—love thee and
fear thee I do not wish for any mode of existence.
If I cannot glorify thee in life let me die to honor thee
die and perceive thee—know order & forever & un
ceasingly obey it. Perhaps my pride suffers—perhaps
were I larger these failures would not pain me so—
While mortal I shall sin— I do not wish to be other
than human—for then I { sd | should } be without [RWE: out of] the pale of { xianity | christianity }
—blessed province { w’h | which } binds the redeemed nearer the
throne of the Creator! Perhaps, here Paul gloried in
infirmity.

16— Good but for dinner & tea—lost de[f]iled
the temple of the divine Spirit!

{ Sab. | Sabbath } noon. This
The four last days—gained & lost alternately—forgot
the claims of others—recovered them— Thursday H‑‑‑h
had a most distressing turn—possessed myself after
a moment with great success— What a humbling scene
was her appearance—left her not { thro’ | through } night, Mrs
Hay
watched. How delightfull is it to depart—to be where
we behold the divine { govt | government } more clearly. I envy almost
her pain & distress—
they are the corrections of God ere
He embraces his chosen! How much I lot [RWE: allot] on this
[s]cene! I feel easy in mind I commit my coursdamaged [RWE: cares] Houghton: page 32b;    Editors: page 18;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

[E]ve Mercifull God! what is the death of a
sister or all the friends I have compared to of
fending Thee, to possessing a principle of disobedience
—of unlovliness—of smalness—of vanity—of persump
tion—all my cares & worldly interests vanish— Merci
full God, where art Thou when I am greedy of social
life—afflict me, crush me into the lowest ca
vern of the earth but { perserve | preserve } me from defiling
my spirit

27. I said to White the pardon of one’s
sins was a foundation petition—it was nothing
without other gifts— God keep me from persump
tion— I talk of honors—but they are those of
gift—the love of God and a full conformity to
his will whether I labour or suffer. Power &
influence I despise—but the honor that com
eth from God
—his favor his loving kindnesses I
covet as the only gifts worthy of existence— Yet
each day each hour I offend against the grandeur
of my calling, & reason, & sentiment. Talked about
a chicken in warmth because another was in
an { arror | error }. Dear Hannah. how delightfull, & profit
able will be her change—penitent & hoping in
the mercy of God—her case is sure. I am not
so much affected as perhaps I ought. I respect the
{ [bonds][laws] } o[f] nature but must not affect their influence Houghton: page 31;    Editors: page 19;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 there was no trial of them as I weakly expec[t]
I cannot easily forget the tranquility of the { seer | nun } [RWE: well]
In the whole perhaps no feeling, like those of
indifference, & superiorty to human influence is
more happifying in life I I never remember
to have had to do so much with my heart
I lie low— I { seffer | suffer }.

12 { sab | sabbath } eve Worshiped rather gloom
ily. This eve I beginn to be awake— I have { use | sai }d
words only of late— I now fear my backsliding
has been more dangerous & deeper than I was { awear | aware }
of. Oh silent retirement! It is a duty to aim at
and to arive at full persuasion of divine favor;
yet at the same time and { committant | concomitant } { sd | should } exist
an habitual fear of sin—a constant degree of
anxiety if all be done—and attained. { Thees | These }
I have sported.— Oh God appear for me at
this time of destitution & guilt—of doubt and
perplexity! Any thing any speedy death rather
than falling short of any measuer of grace intend
ed for me—or favor—or disgrace to come on me.
First I must set about the distruction of sin, in
{ tho’t | thought } word & deed. One indulged and all is lost
Heaven is forfeited and everlasting consequences
follow. Day filled with dilligence—but trifled
with fancy. What dangerous infatuation

13. Rode to
[Me]dford. Day of unusual uselessness & gloom—damaged Houghton: page 31b;    Editors: page 20;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

14 Company. weak to interest them. Gratefull
to God this eve. what of this holy heavenly
exercise if all has not been done that ought
that might.
There is no apolygy if I do not
achieve hights in piety—for I love it—in
benevolence for I am goodnatured—in humilit[y]
for I am culpable. Fool talked as if I cared
about my gown merely to speake to that weeke
woman— Out of benevolence it will not do to
injure the cause of truth. In sympathy for
others I { oftn | often } speake the language of the world


15. Rich retirements. With what avidity have I en
tered into the scriptures. Called by the will of
God & sanctified!
The doctrine of election as far
as we have to do with it { sd | should } induce the holiest [RWE: holier]
zeal gratitude & { conscration | consecration }.. In walking today
I sinned by worldly { tho’ts | thoughts }.

Night. It is an awfull
symptom if we cannot in the presence of God pro
mise to renounce every indulgence of eating, sleep
dress, recreation, reading study & frendshp which
appears suspicious! Ah, what awfull hazards attend
us e’re we enter on our rest. The only and
happiest way to be rid of fears and a thou Houghton: page 30;    Editors: page 21;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 thousand perplexing calculations is to ascend at once
—to gain deep impresions of the persence of God
the awfull responsibity of man & the granduer
& reality of future glory. Humility once deeply
imbibed and the heart will be secured even
if the appearance should be gracefull. { Whther | Whether }
a wish to appear gracefull—or rather rich agrea
ble to every eye is suspicious or not I dare not
pronounce and reject at a time when things
may appear in a wrong direction. It seems evident
that society { sd | should } be sometimes entered—not to dis
gust refined people—appearances & manners must
be agreable.

16 I groan with anguish of [RWE: for] the
passionate the worldly the weak the disgracefull pas[t]
with discouragement at the present—with { entiee | entire }
discouragement of every thing to gain—to acquire to
enjoy. Yes and all I intend is to remembur constantly
that I am nothing—do nothing—feel nothing—deserve [RWE: desire]
nothing—but then even now as the essence of faith
my death would be most rich—full of hope
— God is the same— I adore Him for the raptu[r]e
of the Arch Angel and the bliss of my neighbour
And I promise in the strenght of my Him who
[is] intimately related to me that my life henceforth
[sha] [ll] be a mirror of purity meekness & charity! Houghton: page 30b;    Editors: page 22;    part of Tolman’s folder 3

17 Pain prevaild—cause low health—effort of walk
ing
[RWE: working] & enjoyed it—went to the grave yard. Unable
to pray—bowels swell— God is here

18 A day of { payer | prayer }
& humiliation—unable to attend—or with what de
light would I have { past | passed } the day in tears &
penitence

19 { sab. | sabbath } eve. Enabled to attend with some
degree of zeal to publick worship. Begun a race
whose hazards bring grains from my heart. What
have I dared to do by my sporting—my formality
—my contempt of other’s failings—my persumption
perhaps in religious hope—. A humble gentle
spirit is all I ask— I seek it in preference
to the joys of Angels—as a nessecary temper
for my probationary state. Oh, never could any
one who had my dangers wish eagerly for life
or prosperity. I am certain some vigorous measures
must be taken with my diseased soul— More p[ra]yer
more zeal & constant vigilance. One error of ri
diculing I hate & promise better.

26 There must not
one day go without some sacrifie labour or char
ity, or instance of strenghtening some one virtue. In
retrospecting I find the cause of my backsliding
to have been oftener from a relaxed state of the
mind—a { wesh | wish } to amuse inliven or instruct
[has led] me to social intercource. Now I da Houghton: page 29;    Editors: page 23;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 dare ({ tho’ | though } trembling) to resolve to allow now { moe | more }
this relaxed state of mind—it is of a kind to be
abhorred like that dropsical disorder which over
runs in weeak & good feelings—communicative
&c &c and much more painfull as sterility is
than suppleness. Ah, nothing but one great object
aimed at will extirpate this herd of swine—that
of fellowship with the presence of God.
In this
pursuit—in this acquisition—will die away every
mean & sinister pursuit—and even the { miseris | miseries }
of former disgrace.

Night—one sacrifice? none
appeared. One effort—as many as could be made with
a diseased stomach perhaps. Any self denial? A little
silence. Oh I will now do a trifle however remote


21. Morn. How rich the depths of divine love displayed in the
econymy of the gospel And how simple and grand!
Yes, behold a perfect Being—consider in the
slightest manner his { phicical | physical } & moral perfections
—and it is the depravity of our hearts. the mean
ness of our vertues themselves—and how grand
and simple is the idea of a Mediator!
And
the truth that no one virtue was ever perfected
by man is a wonderfully stronge proof in favor of
[a] Medium { thro’ | through } whom man can be united to the
[inf]initely perfect God. In view of this provision Houghton: page 29b;    Editors: page 24;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 I cast my polluted disordered soul into the arm[s]
of divine love

22 Perfect morning till noon { recevd | received }
F. H. & P. Cook—wrote to Sarah—visited Mrs Odinn.—
No sattisfaction since 12 { ’oclk | o’clock }—effort, self denial as
far as called—walk without vain { tho’ts | thoughts }.

23 Morn
At a nearer review of yesterday I abhorr it after
12. I repent of yesterday. Littleness meanness, for
one in League with God. Henceforth the picture
I’ll image shall be girded loins a bright lamp
fervent devotions. My condition in life is singular,
& places {Handwritten addition: resses} end of handwritten addition me on the throne of my Master with
peculiar strenght. My future life shall represent
some prominent featuers of my Examplar. Oh God
if I do not grow, cover me with his blood and
take me to thyself. It is my duty (however it
may be at times averse to my inclination) to
make this prayer) if I love God and estimate fu
ture glory—it is the very essence of glory to
make no compromise with it’s negative

Night
No { thots | thoughts } indulged—and not a deed. Exertion & a good
degree of vigilance in my work. The only way to im
prove in reverential devotions is to maintain a liv
ly state of the spirit. How slothfull how criminal hav[e]
I been. of late months!

24. Most dolerous { thro’ | through } inability
[to be] [dev]out. Penitent & faultless. Bless God. Houghton: page 28;    Editors: page 25;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 damaged 1807 ennui


14. I groan with ennui. I am not well and my
mind cannot operate.. Mr White slept here last
night— I go to NP. Poor Sister H. is going! Mercifull
[Go]d pity us.

I returned the 11 of { Ap | April } & in this
{ MMS | manuscript } is inserted some pages of the history of this
time to this day 25 {Handwritten addition: 4} end of handwritten addition of { Ap | April } .
Pages ever to be
remembered with anguish as mean & imper
fect—but on some too what awfull resolutions
Today spent in much intreaty for pardon &
mercy for the new, the humble, the zealous,
ardent life I am { commecing | commencing }. Yes { evey | every } thing
of late years seems slothfull & indevout to
what I would be. My life resemblant of the
Lord of Glory! Mercifull God pardon me and
bless me with me with the { elictions | elections } of thy
love that I may attain eminence in humility
—& be forever a trophy of thy love.

25 Morn.
dont be fool enough my soul to regret sore eyes
These sentences before your mind and bid
defiance to sense & knowledge. God is here.
I must exist shortly in other modes. I am im
[m]ortal. If granduer and every virtue dont
[f]ollow, it is because I am stupid

May { 5 | 4 | 8 }
[I] came here yesterday from Boston where I
[was] unsuddenly called time enough to close
[the] eyes of John Clarke.
The scene was in Houghton: page 28b;    Editors: page 26;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 teresting—he died at the age of 7 with more
ideas of religion and more appearance of mind
than many grown persons. The grief which
the { secne | scene } caused my brother & sister and the
tears of the relatives { bro’t | brought } no symptom of grief
into my appearance. The loss of one whose constitu
tion was like his was no subject of regret. And
Oh, how useless the tears of nature at a scene
so unimportant compared to those which constantly
agitate the moral system! True I felt interested
and smiled to see him depart so consciously. I tarri
tarried 10 days— Good God! my soul is bowed down and
crushed— I erred—folly vanity impatient indig
nation had thier turns—at first—but I became
reflective and took less interest in what { past | passed }.
And I did fail; after a fortnight of watching fasting
and every holy charity. I faild. It will imbitter
memory. { Tho’ | Though } the { tnor | tenor } of my time was deevoted
—yet at moments I fail’d

9. A day most de
cidedly painfull & disappointed. Destined to { devoton | devotion }
humiliation &c— Health forbad wakefullness—dissi
pated & stupid. Mr Rogers called to my { mortif | mortification }
I am seeking great things but with litt[l] [e]
ardor. I dont know how but I feel at times my
existence so smale and so swallowed up in the
divine agency and will that I am not se[n]
[si]ble of any distinct desires. Every thing see[ms] Houghton: page 27;    Editors: page 27;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 [so] [t]rivial compared to death that I lose my selecti[o]
n of objects at moments. Is there so weake a
creature
!

10 { sab | sabbath } Morn. Never so sick a day of the kind—
worshiped in pain Mr Bulk. E. & wife sleep here

11. Wasted
& enjoyed ‘p a day. Vain { tho’ts | thoughts }—low devotions—nothing gaind
but hope. I am stupid— Oh & forget my new resolves.


12. Most painfull afternoon obliged to read a novel— Seem
to lose instead of gaining— An hour of tranq[u]il conv[erse]
with death and heereafter has set me to rights.

18 Since
the 12 never were more dolerous days passed by a { xian | christian }
Ague—took physick laid abed—perspired & revived. { Head | Heard }
Dr Osgood preach yesterday afternoon & rose for a few moment[s]
Slept, I { greve | grieve }, for the last time in the old house.
Came
damaged Cocd—and unexpectedly the sensations of life and hope
[of] devotion and happiness { retured | returned }. I can scarcly realise
[s]o great a change.


[“Propositio]n as a man grows in goodness the love [of]
[G]od will expand—the more God is loved the more beneficdamaged
will the individual become; the only firm & lasting foun
dation of benevolence. The sense of the divine presence
may be realised, fixed in the mind, & embodied in the
heart; & when thus { bro’t | brought } as it were, into contact with the
{ tho’ts | thoughts } & sensations, who can doubt the salutary influence it musdamaged
have on the benevolent affections”
 Butler

If a man love me &—a { xian | christian } turns all his attention
to render his duties just, complete, beautifull & strongly
expressive of the inward esteem from { w’h | which } they flow;
and he endeavours to give his morality a refinement &
delicacy suited to the nature of that grand & noble virtue
from { w’h | which } it proceeds.
Houghton: page 27b;    Editors: page 28;    part of Tolman’s folder 3 How intirely independant on circumstances and frinds[h]ip
in it’s ordinary uses, are these precious moments of
inexplicable happiness, but never of devotion

19 Mrs
Thoreau
came—enjoyed too much surprise, pleasure & hope
from seeing her, consistent with my profession & prospects
I never realised dying more than this night—and my confidence
is unshaken but I would rejoice. If the strong & noble
mind of an heathen often rejoiced—how ignoble, how
stupid, how dead to glory must I be! I fear no sen
tence from my Judge—for He can pronounce none
but I shall feel to be right— I cannot depart from
God, for his presence is universal and in that I feel
secure. He made yonder stars and he made me.


20. I walked to Parson’s— Quite engaged in taking care of
the Doctor. Most desultory tedious day.

21 Set apart for
anguish unremitting. { Wd | Would } I could have felt it—but have
not been so free from ennui this fortnight. I leave my
petition for pardon & grace with God. Thy will for my
life and my death, my time & eternity—my graces and
the pardon of my guilt. Do all for me according to
the propitiousness of thy nature and the extent of thy
love.

22 All comfortable. constant reading. But whatev[er]
I read or think I have no cause to value myself damaged
My body incites pity and many actions of my min[d]
abhorrence—my hope for here and hereafter is in
God. I should exult in God. The sight of the Heaven[s]
transport me. It is natural to exult in such an Author[.]


Night. It is the part of a brave mind to bear up a[nd]
[oppose] its’ strenght against those worst of evils, t[hose]
[which it has] { [bro]’t | brought } on itself—how much more then damaged
damaged the part of faith to hope[.]

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 4), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 1809. Waterford, Maine. 2 MS sheets with minor evidence of damage and first four pages missing.

This brief Almanack fascicle is unusual in its formal nature, uncharacteristic pagination, and undamaged condition, all of which and its contents suggest that MME seems to have considered this piece of writing a draft essay in response to current events. In this fascicle, MME contributes thoughtfully to a theological controversy being waged in 1808-1809 between Unitarians and Calvinists over the newly founded Andover Theological Seminary in Andover, Massachusetts. MME responded directly to contentious articles on the theological divide that were published in the Panoplist and the Boston Monthly Anthology in 1808–1809.

Houghton: page 41b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 13

degree of liberty and freedom of will (which does not ap
pear philosophical or scriptural to the calvinistic Inquirier)
that I should look for the belief, the sublime and godlike
belief that human misery will find an universal re
medy. To him, who views every man as unconnected
with a federal head—born innocent in the most { po
fit
| per
fect
}
sense—free in the most perfect manner, the
scheme of eternal anguish may be more consistent
with the manifest attributes of God and the nature of
things. But to the consistent Calvinist, who believes in
a God without succession of ideas—to whom the future of
every possible existence was always present—always
and nessecarily connected with His will and agency—who from a
formed the whole of {Handwritten addition: plan} end of handwritten addition of the creation and redemption
from a perfect view of all it’s consequences; to such a
believer, whose views are thus extended—a final res
toration becomes a kind of intuition. In the native
depravity of human, fallen nature, in its connection
with a first reperesentative, and it’s misterious and
aggrandising relation to a Second by whom came all are
made alive
—in the nessisity of a foreign and divine
agency to conversion, are found supports of the restora
tion from scripture of an unanswerable nature, with
out adverting to those numerous select passages which
support this belief— And in truth, I know not where Houghton: page 41;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 13

they are, nor what they are.
This is the first time
I ever combined the motives of a belief, which at all times
has existed in a timid and vague manner. On the
calvinistic plan, the belief of the contrary cannot convert the sin
ner, nor injure the regenerated. The perpetuity of the
moral law and the immortality of the soul are strong
arguments in favor of an eternal exilement from a holy
Govonor of the moral world. But Jesus Christ hath placed
us under grace—and the grandeur of redemption by a
divine person, at the same time that it argues—that
it proves—the immortality of the soul, argues as strongly
that the curse due to the breach of an immutable law is removed
from the human race as a condemnatory sentence.
As a rule of conduct it was honored by the chistian law
Giver—and will to all moral agents continue an eternal
rule of conduct. And the impenitent Sinner will suffer
the vengance due to it’s personal violation in a de
gree beyond our present conceptions, and worthy the
justice of God. The absolute decrees of God which the
Calvinist adheres to, places eternal punishment as one of
the first magnitude. Now the sin which was to be the
cause of this punishment
where must it have
been—among the decrees? If the Deity were plainly
exhibited in the { coulers | colors } which these conclusions draw,
what human soul could dwell on the portrait, and va- Houghton: page 42b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 13

lue their existence? One really interested in the honor
and character of God, however safe they might feel them
selves, could not be happy, while the only Source of thier
happiness was surrounded, not with clouds and darkness
but with the most terrific light. At least it appears
to me so, but the case is otherwise, for among that class
of christians, are some of the most happy and sublime
spirits. These seem to be so dazzeld with the divine
splendors as to { loose | lose } the remembrance that what is jus
tice in man, benevolence &c, must be of the same kind
in God. If they plead that the over plus of happiness in
the universe verifys the divine benevolence; to some, who
follow the idea of the everlasting misery of the damned,
it will not be wholly sattisfactory—unless, as was before
observed, their existence is preferable to nonexistence.
The calvinistic belief includes a secret and revealed will
In all the reigions of truth (and this sentiment is in some form
there) and speculation, thier could not be a stronger sup
port of the belief of a final restoration of the human
nature to it’s pristine grandeur, and to the still higher
destination of belonging—of being { incoperated | incorporated } into the
interest and honors of the Son of God
.


Apart from speculation, I humbly confess myself dark &
ignorant—and altogather removed from condemning the
Calvinist who reaches the pinnicle of hopkinsianism. It is
possible they may have discovered the incognitathe {Handwritten addition: of} end of handwritten addition man’s
condition—and that truth has never been awarded to any Houghton: page 42;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 13
Sect but thiers—were this the case—it does seem to those
not initiated that they the uninitiated are the objects of charity—and that
there is no necessecary conmection between truth & bigotry.

But a mind less partial to this sect than mine, would be
ready to compare them to comets, whose light was splendid—
but terrific—whose { excentrice | eccentric } revolutions while they
portended destruction to the order of their system—might be
among the happiest means of agitating and supplying
with new light the whole planetary world!

Wateford 1809


MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 5), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 6–10 October 1810. Waterford, Maine. 2 MS sheets, undamaged.

This short fascicle begins and ends in mid-sentence, indicating that it is a fragment of a longer Almanack manuscript. These pages include an extended discussion of chance and free will as both are manifestations of a preordained divine plan. MME discusses slavery and “human misery” but also expects that the promise of eternal life should comfort all who are afflicted. She pronounces ancient and modern philosophers “proof of the immortality of the soul” and discusses their contribution to natural religion.

Houghton: page 43b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 31
Continued Oct 6 1810.
reunion to Gods certain { govt | government }. Can it be in the nature
of things that some events are left to take place by no
fixed rules—what is called chance—contingency—arising
from the freedom of man’s will— { Wd | Would } these interfere with those
which are elected from the foundation of the world — Would they
form links which would go into the chain of Gods providence
or form another chain independent. The latter could not be.
If by the ordination of God, any link could exist, any event
left to human agency could be formed. He { wd | would } { incoporate | incorporate }
it into His { geneal | general } plan. His wisdom & omnipotence might
do this. If the existence of all matter this moment has no
dependance on the existence of matter the last moment,
why has any phisical or moral event any dependance on
similar or contiguous ones?
If so, God may be carrying
on in different parts of the earth, or in the same, by various
modes, either by his immediate agency—or the volantary
agency of Angels Devils & men? But that moral actions
are independant on each other is false; for the whole illegible all
religious habits depends on the laws of association. Hence
I cannot but beleive phisical events are under somthing
of the a similar econymy.—somthing that in the na
ture of things, by the arbitary appointment of God, makes
one thing the efficient cause of another. {Handwritten addition: } end of handwritten additionthe mode
by which God produces events—and that the upholding
the creation is not an effect like the a constant creation.
Were this not true, the advocates for transubstantiation
would have, it seems, a stronger argument than any I know {Handwritten addition: have} end of handwritten addition
heard of a speculative kind.
But to return to the
independant chain, were it in the nature of things
that God could create any intelligent { bimg | being } or any inanimate
independant of Himself, in the continuance of its existence,
or its agency, would the effects of such a { bimg | being } correspond
to the unity of design, which appears in the works & reve
lation of God. It { wd | would } not—but this chain { w’h | which } He might at
any moment controul, does not appear to militate against
what we call unity of object, as it appears impossible that Houghton: page 43;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 31 that such a chain can exist—a chain denotes somthing
intire—whole of itself—therefore those events which
appear independant as to divine agency cannot con
stitute an independant chain of events, because
they {Handwritten addition: how} end of handwritten addition could they become essential parts of the main
chain of events which constitute the being of the
world. Are they independant solitary events and not
of connected with the general tide, to appearance?
Can any effect exist without a cause— And where can
the efficient Cause be found but in God? Besides, it is
not the illigitimate effects which induce sceptiscism. It
is the same and even course of nature—the regular
succession of one thing to another. It is the immutability
of the Agent and the nessisity of his constant influ
ence which blinds to His operation.

10. This is the 3d day in
{ [w]’h | which } existence has been more dull & { perpleced | perplexed } than is common.
I’ve sacrificed to what I { tho’t | thought } duty to my soul & Mr H. has
gone without me. Houghton: page 44b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 31

{ sab | sabbath }  { M | Morning } . 7.
Of all the subjects { wh | which } ever ocupied the human mind
is the character of God—espicially that branch of it
{ w’h | which } relates to his { govt | government } of this earth, & in that point
which represents it as the end of our creation. After
the richest promises of good to the { chh | church }. God says I
will be glorious!
It is this of all other relations raises
our existence in value! It opens a field of day where
Angels may forever wander! If When the cold Fanatic does
not darken it with metaphisical flounderings, the
simpel Lover of God exults with the purest self
love and elevated devotion on this sublime Theme.
Created for thy glory —oh reason & cause for exist
ence how transporting! Enlivened by it the deepest
dungion would not { lesson | lessen } my happiness— What a mo
tive to press into every instant absolute unmixed
virtue! But is there such a virtue on earth. Only
at the moments when the soul is ocupied with God:
What darkens such a moment! The idea of human
misery—ah that poor wretched negro suspend
ed on a gibbet for a crime which self { pervation | preservation }
taught—
Lord God most mercefull hasten oh make
no tarrying.

8. { M | Morning }. Ah, I shall never behold in this life
the hand or the machine, which would divest me of
littleness & perplexity. I am unworthy for whom Thou { s dst | shouldst }
showe it. Unworthy to take the hallowed { vend | viand } of benevo
lence into my attainted lips.
And { tho’ | though } the feeblest promo
tion of the gospel of Jesus is the richest of any its sacred
dep{ a | o }rtments—yet I believe, I think it better— I feel a
desire to shrink from the observation of even children—
—to lie low, & lie still— Oh the dear condition of lying
where I could behold the favorites of God—how { wd | would } my
faith grow at their influence—how my { humulity | humility }. Houghton: page 44;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 31

{ sab | sabbath } eve 7. The lives & writings of the Philosophers before
& after Christ form one of the richest features of the di
vine { govt | government }— They are a proof of the immortality of the
soul—of natural religion—that original righteousness
of Adam, which { tho’ | though } lost as to any power of salvation,
yet it’s ruins remain—a grand and eternal mounu
ment of divine art & goodness. Thier virtues and vices
at once bespoke the condition of human natuer. { Tho’ | Though }
those were of the most splendid kind, yet these pro
claimed with indisputable clearness that man without
revelation—without an influence beyond himself is in
capable of virtue. Thier shreds & fragments were
but the mutilated members of

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 6), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 8 December 1810-8 January 1811. Waterford, Maine. Six MS sheets, with slight damage evident due to burning, scorching, and water or mildew.

MME provides only one definite date in this Almanack, on page 9, which is dated 4 January 1811. Based on contextual evidence and knowledge of MME’s whereabouts at this time, the editors speculatively date this Almanack’s span as the months shown above. This Almanack opens with MME’s commentary on comparative religions and religious histories, as she contrasts the “truth and divinity” of “genuine” Christianity with “all other religions,” including the “mohammed legends,” although she notes Edward Gibbon’s suggestion that the Koran has retained its purity through the ages as compared to the bowdlerizing of Christian texts. On later pages, she continues to discuss the history of the early Christian church. In addition to Gibbon, her reading at this time includes John Locke, Johann Lorenz Mosheim, Jonathan Edwards (with whom she appears to debate the issue of free will), and William Wollaston. As is typical for her, MME derives tremendous pleasure from these intellectual pursuits, finding “every day . . . somet[hing] new in books” and describing “reading with a delight which nothin[g it] seems could inspire but novelty in knowledge.” Interestingly, she asserts that “Philosophers & men of genius . . . acquired glory from their pens while the Hero and Stats[man] have been forgotten,” a conclusion that is reminiscent of a similar statement in Almanack folder 40, written in 1821. She comments on the recent death of author Anna Cabot Lowell, with whom MME was acquainted, as well as on the illnesses of her sisters Rebecca Emerson Haskins and Sarah Ripley. As in other Almanacks, at this time MME engages in self-castigation and, on occasion, wishes for death because it will deliver an “absence of sin.” On the last page, MME reminds us of her abiding interest in science by alluding to “the laws of motion and gravitation laid down by Newton.”

Houghton: page 46b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
{Handwritten addition: 1811 } end of handwritten addition
In the religion of Jesus Christ we find an internal ev[i]
dence of it’s truth and divinity when compared with all
other religions and with all the corruptions which have
been attached to it. It is { gauerded | guarded } by the foreknowledge of its
Author, from those very { aceptions | acceptions } which lie against subs[e]
quent impostures. In the mohammed legends are laws agains
proscriptions of food and sleep—and rules of prayer and
fasting. The christian religion attacks the heart of man
and moulds it to a divine image, and the conduct easi
ly conforms to the few simpel rites { w’h | which } are arbitary— Arb[i]
trary indeed they scarsly are—so ad{ a | o }pted to be sign[s]
between God & man—so expresive of the wants of man
And—there has not arisen one beastly heresy—nor one
profane corruption been added to the sacred ark of revela
tion, but within it’s holy pages are prepared the antido[tes,]
[ei]ther in the misterious form of prophecy, or the plainer
[c]haracter of line and { precpt | precept } .
It is said by the invid[i]
ous Gibbon that while the Vatican has been so disfigure[d]
that were the Apostles to revisit it they would not know it, th[e]
lofty dome of St Sophia retains the representation of the hum
ble tabernacle of Medina. And that while chistian com
mentaries have so disfigured the text as { wd | would } oblige thei[r]
original authors to study thier own writings, the koran [re]
mains the infallible code of religious & civil legislation.
In this blending of sacred & civvil interests it is true
[Gib]bon finds the cause of the permancy of moha[mmedan] Houghton: page 46;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
[is]m.
But in a more impure source it may be found,
[i]t’s precepts accord to the passions of man, and al
low their eternal gratifiation here & hereafter. The
genuine religion of Jesus Chist retains it’s permanancy
amid every innovation and rises to the eye of the
faithfull believr more sublimely from the furnace of
persecution and the more dangerous mutalations of it’s
pretended friends. It is founded on the character of
God—it is stands a monument of his power, unconnec
ted with every human institution, and in defiance of
every earthly and sensual passion. The various commen
taries, and { opposoing | opposing } sects which have risen from its
[i]ntelligible, as well as from it’s misterious departments, are
but so many proofs of the it’s divine origin; as well
[a]s it’s passing { thro’ | through } human mediums. That it is not
[i]nviolate to the Spoiler who dares to mingle it with
his unhallowed impostures, or the daring Robber who
[] o ften in socinian rashness, or stupid quakerism dares
[c]ommit sacrilidge on the whole fabrick, is often affords
[c]onstant exercise for the faith & patience of the Saints.
I feel poor in purse—oh who that felt immortal could say { yt | that }!
[To] morrow—I may take possesion of an eternal inheritanceto
[mo]rrow I may be an admirer of martyrs and Angels. Oh
[the] possibility alone of death { sd | should } do every thing. Oh then
[how] can I ever be in possesion of pardon for sins like { n | r } damaged Houghton: page 47b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
mine— How poor & inconsistent—tonight contemplating the
time when I shall inspect the employments of seraphs—in
the morning looking back to infancy and longing with
eagerness that I had then found a grave, { w’h | which } { wd | would } have
saved me from the sins of my life— I had then been a
mong the redeemed— I had felt interested in my species,
and adored the Lamb . But I have lived to injure th[e]
spirit of { yt | that } religion I love. True, I may drink into it
more deeply—but never, never can I live so as to promot[e]
it— Oh hide me from dishonoring it! Oh keep me, Thou whom
I love, from delusion and folly and I’ll praise Thee forev[er.]


8 { M. | Morning } God! eternally active—what an idea—His conduct! His agen[cy]
is it only in the material world?— oh there it only exists [me]
chanically—it is in the intellectual & moral world of man [I]
pant for it’s operations—the world of vegetable & animal life
is but the faint, { tho’ | though } lovely picture of His vital agenc[y]
in the world of spirits. Oh today may some new idea of [that]
world unite me (if I may so say) to the fountain of wisddamaged


9 { sab | sabbath } eve. Sister H. unwell. I went to { chh | church }—walked—cold win[d]
barren— Yet what an internal feast—objects, { w’h | which } in other y[ears]
appeared dismal are now gilt with the bright beams of imdamaged
nothing more. Still somthing either of health or divine influ[ence]
must be the cause. It is true every day gives me somet[hing]
new in books. I am reading with a delight which nothin[g it]
seems could inspire but novelty in knowledge, Moshiems’ history
[How] kind to this family and to it’s Mother is God! Shidamaged
damagedh[e]ld May the blessing be sondamaged Houghton: page 47;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
[I] have often tremblingly said at the hearing of the difficul
ties { w’h | which } speedily entered the { chh | church }—how little at any time has
religion done for society—alass how little to what might be
expected for communities and individuals! I dont never said it loud.
But at the history of the first ages, it flashes on my mind,
the wisdom of God in erecting his cause amidst the dangers
{ [w]’h | which } surrounded it on every side.
Oh how astonishingly does
it add to the { gloy | glory } of the christian to have held on his away
[ag]ainst the world—human passions and all sublunary things.
[H]ad these been propitious—love of novelty would soon have
[a]dded to the { chh | church } the whole world—and the pure sublime
[na]ture of { xianity | christianity } would never been developed. It was not religion
[that] caused blood & carnage—it was the guilt of man, roused
[in]to actions by this wonderfull counteracting scheme. And { thro’ | through } what difficut—
[paths] has it made it’s way! The fire & sword without—and
more poisonous philosophy and heretical divisions within. Truely
[the] { xian | christian } religion afford a theme of wonder to highest intelli
[gen]ces.

11. { M. | Morning } Philosophers & men of genius have in every departmnt
[hav]e acquired glory from their pens while the Hero & Stats
[man] have been forgotten. How unspeakeably more sublime was the life of Jesus! He
[spak]e as never man spake
and his words { illuime | illumine } the moral
[world] with the same identical beams of light with { w’h | which } they
[fir]st shone! How foolish the story of Jesus Chist writing a let
[ter to] Abgarus king of Edessa. The holy { Gh. | Ghost } was the penman of
damaged God.

16 { sab. | sabbath } noon. Never knew a more anxious hour. I have
damaged illegible had done better. Oh God th damaged
damaged damaged damaged Houghton: page 48b;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
a wonderfull econymy in nature may illustrate the imprtanc[e]
of the impovement of so insignificant a being as myself to the m[or]
al world—but oh to me—{ tho’ | though } I do not apprehend but a very trifl[e]
of the nature of existence—yet it may be dear to me as any Angels
in Heaven. If there is any possible or established connction between
means & endsasking & finding, I’ll seek that the dark cloud of ig
norance be removed in a measure consistent with my condition & [my]
hopes as a believr in a divine relation & agency. Edwards speaking of the[se]
connections says. “The supposed connetion betwen antecedents & consequ [ents]
let it be ever so sure & nessecay does not does not prove that it is [in]
vain for a man to attempt to open, his eyes—his aiming—& the use of me[ans]
being the effect of his will does not breake the connection nor hinder the [suc]
cess.”
May not the free will of a moral Agent be a link in [the]
chain of events of the {Handwritten addition: each} end of handwritten addition of which is ordered by God—and yet the f[ree]
dom not the less than if any temporey motive—or accident ha[d]
induced the will to act. In short, it seems that the will o[f]
a being with a moral capasity is nothing more than an inst[ru]
ment of the divine { govt | government } of the most misterious kind in liv
ing to issue the most stupendous schemes according to the Edwar[ds’]
system.
And such in some measur it certainly appears. B damaged
for myself, I never remember to have met with the [dif]
ficulty in the scriptures in a way to perplex. When [the]
Eternal declares his soverignty and electing conduct, I [see]
and rejoice in the security of such a Governor—when [his]
promises and threatnings are addressed to moral agents
objects of his elections, and the engines of his { govt | government }, [I fear]
and tremble at human responsibility— I feel myself, beyond [the pos]
sibility of doubt, an agent—one on whom He will p damaged
[the] riches of His grace. Those who would repose
damaged [the]se subjects—and find a ndamaged
damaged
Houghton: page 48;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
[r]epresenting God as the only Agent in the univerce, if
these represntations tend to impeach the divine benefi
[c]ence—or to lessen those impessions of an indefinable
[k]ind, with which from infancy we are accustomed to
[co]ntemplate the Deity, as the Source only of wisdom, { powe | power }
[h]oliness and love—as forever hating and counteracting evil.
[Now] if these impessions are disturbed—our supreme happi
[n]ess is lessened—we had better I had almost said revert
[into] Manicheanism—or plung into a universe without a
[P]articular Providence, in the sublime faith that in
[fu]ture { revelutions | revolutions | revelations }, the soul would realise all those per
[fec]tions with which it had delighted to surround the idea
[of] God the Creator—all those organizations which would re
[move] the present guilt & { diorder | disorder }. of True, the loss of a perpetual
[an]d minute agency over beings so frail and vulnerable to
[most] exquisite sufferings is a loss which can only be felt by
[the] solitary and { senible | sensible } soul—but nothing to that which
[give]s the grand and indescrible emotions with which the
[it] [m]editates a Being counteracting rather than decreeing
[evil]—or those things which for the present are evil—
[things] contrary to His Nature and revealed will. Still these
[ideas] may be { superficel | superficial }—these reasonings—be rather
[feelin]gs arising from short and vague appehensions.
[“P]ure spirit, viz. God is only active”—an eternal infi
[nite] [a]ctivity!
What a wonder! What may not be it’s
damaged provision for all the phenomena of the phi[sical]
[intellec]tual and moral world! An ordination of damaged
damaged Houghton: page 49b;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
yet He is just & righteoustherfore man must be guilty
—miseries are here unaccountable on other grounds—{ tho | though }
they bespeake his immortality and probation—yet can never
account—could indeed never exist, those { w’h | which } do not arise from guil[t]
but from some hidden incognita of human depravity.

3. { M[.] | Morning }
Ah what a delightfull support under such views to contempla[te]
God—if fear & awe arise—well. But the degree of moral ndamaged
sity { w’h | which } must exist from such an infinite Existence rais[es]
and soothes the soul—oh what a support. If there is no s[uc]
cession of existence—or ideas—or time or whatever called [in]
the eternal Mind—then foreknowledge must imply * infalli[ble]
nessity. Still I cannot perceive that then {Handwritten addition: this} end of handwritten addition foreknowldge or damaged
is nessecery to the divine tranquility—or that if guilt [and]
human misery { sd | should } arise in opposition to His attributes [and]
original plan it { sd | should } be called or represented { disapt | disappointment } lea damaged
to misiry &c. Such alone may be the perogative of [God,]
to behold with ineffable joy every event in earth & h[eaven]
tending in it’s nature to the subversion of His throne [He]
does but prepare for his mercy & efficiency great [er]
trophies perhaps—
hence the chief of sinners are h[ave]
salvation amid the ’gratulations of Angels.
But { surly | surely } [the in]
definable nessesity { w’h | which } attends my actions takes not one indamaged
from my guilt nor lessens the joy of any virtue—it i[nspires]
the hopes with { w’h | which } I go forward—oh { thro’ | through } all eternity God
I trust, my soul approaching himself.

4. Pain preponderated damaged
damagediht my mind awakes. It is at first sight ines damaged
damagededamagedt of divin[e] damaged Houghton: page 49;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
Whether the process to atheism (is natural or as a judgment) to atheism
may be doubtfull. That it is not always nessecary is cer
tain, for the mutalated and meagre forms of christianity
prove. And it is possible in the wide range of
that immense variety { w’h | which } fills the moral world, there
are those who having climbed to the throne of God by
[t]he noble scaffolding of revelation renounce the means
[b]ut keep hold of the atetributes of a first and glorious
[C]ause—but surely to no end of practice or consolation—it is
[n]ot in the nature of things—it must { surly | surely } have arisen
[fr]om a depraved infatuation. The case was far otherwise
[w]ith those Thiests, who debarred by the ordination of the
[Ro]mish econymy, and stranger to any revelation, rose to
some faith in God by the contemplation of His works, and
[the] instincts of reason, or a diviner light from above which
[the]y knew not—yet it guided them, and has left their
[fai]lings & virtues to be a perpeptual monument of the divine
[spiri]t Their vices { too | to } preach loud as thunder the need of
damagedore distinct revelation.
It was for superior minds to rise
[am]id the darkness and misery of this little orb, and be
[lieve] in a higher order of things and beings—but little
[minds] set adrift from the ark of revelation must of
[course] be lost and confounded at the ocean of events and
[sce]nes of confusion and misery which surround thier little wreck
[& de]spondent atheism takes place. There is one circumstanc[e]
[in th]e history of corruptions that is worthy of damagedtdamaged
damaged Houghton: page 50b;    Editors: page 9;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
It does seem the Author has not hit on the strongest proof
of this delightfull doctrine, which the nature of things affords.
The accumalation of knowledge—the nature of ideas, those
which have no relation to matter—are better ones.
But t[he]
gospel alone brings immortality to light in futurity and as it
exists in the nature of man. Christ—the divine Christ { wd | would }
not have died, it is not reasonable to believe, for beings
composed of matter—whose essence was nothing more than
other inanimate matter. The whole body of scirpture presu[mes]
another being distinct from matter, { tho’ | though } vieled in matter, and
for the present, dependant for many of it’s effects apparently on
matter. “Man made in the image of God,” probably indicates a
spiritual & immortal nature—the prototype of this image m[ust]
have been the Soul of Jesus Christ
— Somthing like the Shek[i]
nah of God—the Angel of His presence —!
But on this gran [d]
& misterious subject it is not for me to speculate. What Wollas
ton
quotes from Plut. that the immortality &c and the doctrine [of]
{ Pro. | Providence } stands &c does not appear solid, unless by immortality b[e]
intended future existence— Admit this, or that the soul is [na]
turally immortal—and { tho’ | though } it argues strongly a superint[ending]
Govoner—yet does not prove it— It may enter into the
design of a moral { govt | government } of free agents that their actions sh[ould]
take their own course in general—that it is the province of
Omnipotent Power to overrule the chaos of human affairs,
after they have taken what may be called a natural cou[rse.]

He will create a new Heavns & earth wherin dwelleth damaged
damaged interpose by an agency altogather new & illustrious. Thdamaged
damaged on morals & { nat. | natural } religion say a great deal of damaged
damaged t damaged t damagedakes one sick to hear damaged Houghton: page 50;    Editors: page 10 ;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
them—because they are dishonest—they derive their
fine things from revelation and deny the source.

Jan. 4
1811. Ah I enter with little hope on a new divirsion of time God
have mercy and save me from the past—let it close my
present life, if my heart becomes no more the seat of sympathy
truth & meekness. At a glance of Edward’s system of conversion
[i]t does appear that he misrepresents (not willfully) the mode by
[w]hich God governs the { chh | church } & world. Moral agents as well as Ma
[te]rials ones would be be a ponderous machine—meighty indeed
[a]nd requiring an omnipotent Cause to wield—but does not
[str]ike the illegible unprejudiced mind so grand, as to consider God
[as] governing the universe by instruments indowed with
[mo]re freedom than he allows—or a different kind—it’s origin
[I w]ould not insist should be like {Handwritten addition: a} end of handwritten addition “self determining power”—be
[cau]se Edwards combats the idea so plausibly, and perhaps solidly
[f]or, perhaps, mind whatever be it’s nature, must have a direction
[a] { pronpesity | propensity } to act one way rather than another—this it
[see]ms enters into it’s essence—habit or education and grace, or
[an i]nfluence of a different kind from that exerted in its first
[crea]tion, athe this first direction, or propinsity—which now appears
damaged in a lapsed disordered state. If the first act of the will be
[perf] ect—and it must be, or exist { nessecaily | necessarily }, then it must
[re]lated to it’s cause, and cannot have a self determining
[power] unless it resolves to have such a power, before it has
[any] power. and can give itself the power. A greater or differ
[ent kin]d of freedom than the hopkinsians allow is probably the
[case or] our ideas would degenerate into Aristoteainsm & Annin damaged
damaged like making God the soul of the world—no individualty
damaged
damaged to give us a Whidamaged Houghton: page 45b;    Editors: page 11;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
{Handwritten addition: 1811 } end of handwritten addition
[cr]eate machines—a power to do what we please with our holdamaged
—or a power to do what we please—but no will—or disposition.
That there is a misterious nessisty in some at least of our { ation | actions }
appears certain—and I tremble when this moment tempts me to
think that the weaknesses which I sometimes commit I can ac
count for on no other principle—my very pride—my reason—my
habits & prayers are opposed to them—my sins are less unaccountable
—every good gift, { evey | every } virtue I rejoice to desire from God—my
sins make me long to depart and know that I am forgiven—
but my egotism—my purile wordy empty vainities confound me— [I]
sometimes find their cause in my situation—and ask to be { dilivered | delivered }.
— but others { wd | would } find me as guilty as I have been. Oh had I neve[r]
failed but when not { gaurded | guarded } by prayer—how happy— Were grace
the gift of prayer, it does seem I had increased— But is it not
the will of God that I should be a poor mean creature—a proof
how little means of grace can do without his agency? Well his
will not mine be done on me and by me.
If I am miserable
a sense of his agency operating it will sweeten the portion.

5 { Sab. | Sabbath } Eve.
Were there not that provision for particular cases I would still pray
I { wd | would } venture to pray that there might be such a provision.
Were not God omnisient—could I not make that transpo[rting]
petition— cast me not away from thy presence take not thy
holy spirit from me
.— yet I { wd | would } so strive to conduct that wh[en]
ever God should place me where I might be in his presence
I { sd | should } be prepared for it. Since I last wrote I have been agita
[e]d by bad news from C— of the sickness of my sister. Oh were
it not for prayer— God will restore her and make this
an era of grace & prosperity to her & my parents. This c[are]
I expect to hear again

6 { sab. | sabbath } eve. I did not hear. Blessed be God
[she] is better. A glance at Edwards today, and the moral ve[rtue]
[of ato]nement, appeared before me under his influence—mdamaged Houghton: page 45;    Editors: page 12;    part of Tolman’s folder 4
may be a being not capable of forming habits of vertue
himself—and the moment he believes it may be the mome[nt]
of departnig from God—left wholly to himself and we know not
the extent of his misery and guilt.
Ah wonderfull and Joyous con
dition of any created being whose destiny refers him to his Crea
tor in the most absolute and unconditional dependance—that
Creator the first Cause in the universe of every effect—the
Alpha & Omega—
the Originn of wisdom & goodness—how sim
pel—how natural the riliance— the branch florishes no longer
than adhering to the vine .
Angels hence derive their ho
nors and virtues—how much more freedom and power than
man ever had is uncertain—perhap[s] they fall when
they affect independance. Ah my Go[d] whatever others en
joy of strenght and merit— I ask I desire nothing but what
comes from thy agency.

8. Yesterday A letter from Mr White
Miss Ann Lowel is dead! How sublime th[e fu]ture of such
a mind! Conspiuous for talent & { acequsitions | acquisitions }—frends & fortune
not unknown to affliction of the most interesting kind—damaged
[how impre]ssive her exit. How grand does the fate of th[e poor]
[es]t { xian | christian } become at death—then how much more in [case]
the most splendid! I wrote to A.B. I feel more my nothingness
when surviving the eminent. Oh could I die for some who is wdamaged
[f]ull. I am grievously stationary—yet as an intellectual & religio[us]
being related to the will & agency of God how interesting how alarm
ing my situation. If according to the laws of motion and gravita
tion laid down by Newton hold univrsally, there is not the least assigna
[ble] part of an atom, but what has influence every moment { thro’ | through }
[ou] t the whole material world univirse, to cause every part to [be]
[affected] otherwise than it would be were it not for that particudamaged
[lar] [corp]oreal existence.
{ Tho’ | Though } insensible the effect at present.

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 19), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 1842. Waterford, Maine. Single manuscript sheet, bearing damage due to burning and crumbling. Needle holes and staining from black thread suggest that this leaf was at one time bound into a fascicle, as described below. No George Tolman transcription is extant for this Almanack leaf, perhaps indicating its displacement from a fascicle prior to his undertaking this task in 1901. The majority of the writing on this Almanack’s two pages is in a non-authorial hand, also described below.

We surmise that the single leaf comprising Folder 19 was originally contained in Almanack, Folder 23, which is partially dated 1842 and is not yet published in this edition. Both contextual and material evidence supports this conclusion, particularly MME’s hand, the paper and ink color, and the positioning of burned edges, tears, and thread stains on proximate leaves in Folder 23, which align almost exactly with these attributes on the manuscript leaf of Folder 19. More specifically, we think it possible that the two pages of Folder 19 follow the Folder 23 page dated 14 August 1842. Unlike our editorial procedure for Folders 26 and 32, however, where we can document continuous writing between Folders 26 and 32, in this case we have no such definitive proof. As a result, these two folders will be published separately, with no pages duplicated.

All of page one and approximately the top quarter of page two in Folder 19 are in the hand of MME’s intimate friend Elizabeth Hoar, the fiancée of MME’s nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson (CCE), who had died in 1836. Although we cannot be certain whether Hoar wrote directly on the pages of an Almanack or whether she gifted this leaf to MME, who then bound it in to an Almanack fascicle, the latter supposition is strongly suggested on the opening page of Folder 23: “. . . [i]t was Waldo who gave me this paper in [f]olding writing papers. It was in the opposite <manuscript damage>ate I inserted Charles’ fragments w’h [which] E. [Ho]ar gave me. It seemed a little like sa[cri]ledge to sew them into an almanak but I had no good way to see them & preserve them.” Moreover, these “fragments” may fulfill a “commission” Hoar has asked to perform on MME’s behalf, referenced in letters from MME to her in February and again in March 1842. Although MME instructs her to “write on a folio” and requests a note from Hoar herself or from Waldo Emerson, perhaps she instead sent these excerpts, knowing that MME would cherish these missives from their mutually adored CCE. That MME had often been in poor health, including disabling headaches, in recent months may have added incentive for Hoar to send along the healing balm of CCE’s words. In these excerpts, Hoar transcribes poetic lines from two letters sent to her by CCE, the first dated 18 April 1834, the second 20 November 1833. Both can be read as apostrophes to the passing day, one slightly more optimistic as to the potential for future days to afford time for soul-searching and for “duties & achievements.” Following a horizontal line drawn across the manuscript page demarcating these entries, MME follows with a lament for CCE, whom she continues to mourn, despite six years since his loss: “Ah dear Charles by every year w’h [which] separates thee from my weary wasting pilgrimage I dare not expect thy intellectual society when I go.” In 1842, MME was confronting death again, most poignantly in January, when five year-old Waldo Emerson, the son of Waldo and Lidian Emerson, died from scarlet fever. Her dear physician and friend Leander Gage died at age 50 in April, motivating MME to pen a rare notice for public consumption, a eulogy for Gage published in The Christian Witness (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 262; Simmons, Selected Letters, 441n1). And later that year, albeit after the probable date of this Almanack, came the death of prominent Unitarian minister William Ellery Channing, the circumstances of which Nancy Craig Simmons notes that MME connected back to her own father, William Emerson, who had died in 1776. Writing to Ann Sargent Gage, MME imagines, “Is it possible that it was known he died on sabbath at Vermont—There too & on sabbath dear Sister died our father full of piety & patriotism” (quoted in Simmons, Selected Letters, 446n1). Perhaps mindful of these beloved and admired figures as well as continuing to envision CCE’s spiritual yearnings and their precious intellectual companionship, MME closes this page by reflecting on the qualities of “the highest virtue,” quoting from a recent review of Orestes Brownson’s Charles Elwood: or the Infidel Converted (1840). Only when the soul and its “spontaneous emotions, are in harmony <w>ith the will of God” can it be “sanctified.” Such had doubtless become her fondest memory of and hope for CCE.

MME often dispersed Almanack leaves and occasionally even entire fascicles to Elizabeth Hoar, confiding to her in 1838 that “my Almanak scraps . . . love to wander” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 390), but Folder 19 provides the only extant instance of Hoar herself writing in an Almanack (or as explained above, writing on a page that finds its way into an Almanack). In 1841, MME acknowledges her friend as “my only benefactor in letters & MMS [manuscripts] &c” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 426), referring to a recent transcription Hoar had provided of Elizabeth Palmer Peabody’s journal notes detailing a Margaret Fuller Conversation on the cultural roles of women. Although the line distinguishing MME’s epistolary and Almanack writing was fluid throughout her life, the early 1840s reflect a particularly frequent blurring of these genres, as letters slip into Almanacks and vice versa. Hoar’s transcriptions of CCE’s epistles offer an especially rich example enabling MME to expand, on a single manuscript leaf, the authors and the hand in her life writings.

Houghton: page 259b;    Editors: page

{Handwritten addition: 1328} end of handwritten addition

{Handwriting: 1834-04-18April 18th 1834—
“Go thy ways Day— Many eyes now rest on thee—thou art [of]
consequence to the thousands of them who wait with fear
or hope the issue of what has been done in thee—& thou
art remembered as a benefactor or an enemy by those to
whom thou hast brought joy or disaster in thy brief reign.
But as the moon wanes from the full—as the mountains lessen
when we retreat from it till its blue top sinks beneath
the horizon—even so will thy dimensions shrink as the long
procession of coming Days shall glide by & take station in
front of thee. Thy coat of many colours will be stripped of[f][,]
& thou shalt be clad in the faint grey livery of things dis
tant & cold.”
} end of handwriting
{Handwriting: 1833-11-20Nov 20 1833
Day, Day, that art even now taking thy farewell—hasteni[ng]
over my head into the shadowy Infinite Past— I know no[t]
whether I ought to be grieved as I listen to the rush of thy
retreating wings— True I have learned nothing that
Can be weighed or measured by the coarse scales of hu
man
opinion since my eyes opened on thy light. I con
fess a heavy & indolent morning—an unthoughtful afte[r]
noon. But if the soul has simply kept or put herself
in the attitude of a humble seeker of truth, thy golden
sands have not been wasted.
Galileo was long making & adjusting his telescope, befor[e it]
disclosed to him the wonders of the heavenly [world.]
And much of every [man’s life is spent in preparation] Houghton: page 259;    Editors: page
[indirect, ofte]n unconscious, for duties & achievements to
[c]ome. Go then with thy record that cannot be amen
[d]ed into the Eternity whither I too shall soon follow thee—
If thou art questioned by my Guardian Angel, say thou
[d]idst leave me strong in the spirit of prayer & hope.”
} end of handwriting

[1]4 { Sab | Sabbath } Eve. Ah dear Charles dearer by every year
{ w’h | which } separates thee { fom | from } my weary wasting
pilgrimage I dare not expect thy { intelleutl | intellectual }
[s]ociety when I go—
but this eve weary with
the { sab. | sabbath } means, oh how weary. And the
great ones talk of the problem of natural
& supernatural. All all is supernatural when
the soul feels the divine presence. To aspire
after it is an element { w’h | which } constitutes the
spirit—who would inquire where human
agency begins or where divine when touched
with the lovely hand of death.

damaged3. “The highest virtue consists in the fact that the
[s]oul is in such a state that it’s natural aspira
[t]ions, it’s spontaneous emotions, are in harmony
[w]ith the will of God; so that it obeys God without
[de]liberation, without reflection, from it’s own natural
[p]romptings. It is then sanctified”

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 25), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 9 October 1855, 16 January 1858, and 27 July 1858. Orange, Concord, and Boston, Massachusetts. Single undamaged MS sheet, with four horizontal folds to form a small parcel, with the mistakenly dated annotation “M M Emerson 1844” in the hand of Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Perhaps the latest extant example of Emerson’s reading and writing practices from this lengthy manuscript series, this brief Almanack includes entries from both 1855 and 1858, when MME was in her early eighties. Poignantly, she characterizes herself at age 83 as “the same infirm frail hungry skeleton mind.” In these years she continued to exhibit a robust engagement with theological as well as intellectual and reformist concerns, among them the power of enlightened conversation on higher truths. Decades before the Transcendentalists had privileged spontaneous discourse as an act of individual and social reform, MME similarly pursued conversation with others, both in person and in these Almanack manuscripts, where she routinely engaged in dialogic exchanges with both the authors of her reading and the readers of her Almanacks. Although she did not attend them, MME was also interested in Transcendentalist writer, journalist, editor, and protofeminist Margaret Fuller’s Boston Conversations for women (1839-1844), a partial transcription of which Elizabeth Hoar provided MME in 1841 (Simmons, ed., The Selected Letters of Mary Moody Emerson, 426). MME also participated in at least one occasion of Transcendental discourse in late November 1858, at an Amos Bronson Alcott Conversation on “Private Life.” Also present at this Conversation at Bush, the Concord home of Lidian and Waldo Emerson, were Henry James, Sr., Henry and Sophia Thoreau, second generation Transcendentalists Ellery Channing and Franklin B. Sanborn, and abolitionist Mary Merrick Brooks, among others. James evidently advocated the cultural roots of crime, provoking MME to defend vehemently the moral law. James later observed of their verbal battle that MME “had the flavor to me of primitive woods wherein the wolf howls, and the owl has never been dislodged; and I enjoyed the novelty of her apparition in those days too much to mind the few scratches I got in making her better acquaintance (quoted in Simmons, ed., The Selected Letters of Mary Moody Emerson, 545; Shepard, ed., The Journals of Bronson Alcott, 310). Despite this pronounced vitality, December 1858 also marked the end of MME’s independent, nomadic boarding life. That month MME moved to Williamsburgh (now Brooklyn), New York, to the home of her niece, Hannah Haskins Parsons, where she would remain until her death, on May 1, 1863.

In the first entry of this brief Almanack, dated from Orange, Massachusetts, MME commonplaces and reflects enthusiastically upon German philosopher and theologian Friedrich Schleirmacher’s commentary on Jesus of Nazareth, as quoted in John David Morrell’s Philosophy of Religion (1849). Honoring and seeking to follow the ways that her divine redeemer “dwells in God by his nature and love,” she faults her self-perceived failures to live fully in a “world . . . designed for the glories of martyrdom!” “Not yet awake to sacrifices,” she admits. Writing again in January 1858, MME reiterates a sense of her own spiritual failings but also reaffirms her alliance with divinity through the ministrations of Jesus. Directly addressing both father and son, she prays for their joint intercession in the reform causes that animated the last decades of her life. “Aid the sab [sabbath] Schools have mercy on the children and youth,” she enjoins; “look on thy coloured people Behold their sufferings.”

In a separate and similarly reformist notation, perhaps written later in July 1858, MME quotes from Swedish writer and activist Fredrika Bremer’s protofeminist propaganda novel, Hertha (1856). In depicting the striving life of her protagonist, Hertha Falk, Bremer claims Swedish women’s right to assert their own personal independence upon reaching maturity, to gain an education, to own property and choose a profession, and to actively engage in political and social advocacy. Illness and an early death abbreviate Hertha’s pursuit of these goals; her chief achievement for the next generation of young women is founding and teaching in a non-traditional school dedicated to young women’s acquisition of self-reliance, self-knowledge, personal vocation, and highest duty to community—through readings and conversation. Hertha names the school “Practices in Language and Conversation” (306). MME’s quoted lines are from the first journal entry in which Hertha discusses her school’s progress; she began by reading aloud Sophocles’s play Antigone. Discussing Antigone’s principled decision to bury her brother Polynices, even at the risk of her own life, Hertha characterizes the Greek noblewoman and martyr as that glorious woman, who, faithful both by word and deed to the law of conscience and duty, defies the strong command of the tyrant, the slavish usages of society, . . . and stands fast in death, appealing to “The law infallible; unwritten law supreme which, / From to-day dates not, nor yet from yesterday; but / From eternity, the moment known to no man. . . . ” This glorious image of the heroine of conscience, may lead my young girls to understand more fully the ideal of the Christian woman, not merely (as is now so common) onesided in humility, which so easily becomes slavish, but also in heroism (Bremer, Hertha, 308).

The full narrative background for MME’s quotation from Hertha offers suggestive clues as to its appeal for her. From her fiery defense of an inviolable moral law during the Alcott Conversation later in 1858, to numerous elaborations on its virtues in daily life, to its role in supporting reform causes in her writings, MME honored and attempted to live and act by this ethical code. She perhaps even identified with this fictional but “glorious image of the heroine of conscience” who embraced the “unwritten law supreme,” a model to Hertha’s students and to Bremer’s readers of the “ideal of a Christian woman” whose strength derives from fearlessness rather than an unquestioning and “onesided” meekness.

An hybridic Almanack-letter from 1858, written on August 25, her 84th birthday, to nephew Waldo Emerson usefully contextualizes this brief 1858 Almanack, particularly in regard to MME’s commonplacing on the moral law and its meaning for a protofeminist, Christian reformer. The bulk of this document is dated and reads—without salutation—like an Almanack entry, yet three closing sentences more properly align generically with correspondence: complementary closing remarks and a final statement that this “scroll” is to serve in place of the “old Almanaks” that Waldo had been requesting in vain. What cannot be known now is whether MME removed for circulation her birthday Almanack entry from an ongoing 1858 Almanack no longer extant in its entirety (to which folder 25 may also belong), or whether MME chose to respond to Waldo’s requests for old journals by penning a themed Almanack for her nephew—a gesture she had offered up previously for Waldo as well as for his brother Charles on the occasion of their birthdays. Other Almanack-letter hybrids pose similar questions, but in this case, at the manuscript’s close, MME both repeats the preceding commonplace extract from Hertha and provides commentary that may indicate that this 1855 and 1858 Almanack presents a rare instance in which MME explores what it means to write and speak as a “heroic” figure in the company of other protofeminist women such as Bremer, her fictional protagonist Hertha, and Margaret Fuller. Not atypically, however, in her remarks about her commonplace extract, MME also brings a male figure into this pantheon of heroines of women’s rights: Napoleon Bonaparte, with whose birthday she mistakenly finds synchronicity, believing that he was born on August 24.

MME begins her Almanack-letter birthday tribute with an extended discussion of “the image of a beautifull being just budding into existence.” In addition to closing off MME’s “usual joy” in this holiday, this distracting newborn female “is a stranger” to MME, or perhaps either a figment of her imagination—“or only a kind of painting an influx of images of delight to eye & ear, fancy.” This new being is possessed of a shining, but “deep root of ambition.” While ambition is typically “abused in our sensual world from its noble destiny,” MME implies that the stranger’s aspirations fulfill their righteous calling. Affirming that “the torch of revelation” ensures that “virtue in its mere moralities cannot florish and grow without toils & sacrifies of early study and experience,” MME once again upholds the value of Hertha’s (and her own) “unwritten law supreme,” the moral law, before adding her fondest hope, that this young entity might “learn that solitude affords the purest joys, w’h cannot be explained by the host of learned men.” But who is this “beautifull being just budding into existence,” and why is she the focal point of MME’s birthday writing? Is she an MME of youthful potential? Is she some actual but unnamed young acquaintance of virtue and promise? Or is she suggested by the fictional Hertha, since MME is apparently reading Bremer’s novel at this time? MME’s lifelong pursuit of vocational self-cultivation in the solitude of her beloved home in Maine, Elm Vale, likely influences this solicitous wish for her nameless birthday spirit, but MME herself questions the impetus for her musings. “But what kind of excitment has led me into this persumption?” she asks. “Is it Margarets restless demon?” (Simmons, ed., The Selected Letters of Mary Moody Emerson, 588, 599).

As Nancy Simmons suggests, MME’s “restless demon” is presumably the (now deceased) Margaret Fuller, an intellectual woman whom MME admired for her brilliant mind but whom she also criticized for what MME viewed as her “paganism,” particularly in regard to “our divine Savior.” The two women’s sole disastrous meeting, in 1841, in Newburyport, Massachusetts, left MME with the frustrating sense that Fuller had withheld her vivid intellectual gifts during their fraught and even combative conversations (Simmons, 551, 523). If indeed MME had Fuller on the brain at the time of this manuscript’s writing, we can add the American Transcendentalist to the list of possibilities for the identity of the “beautifull being,” who may perhaps serve as some idealized vision suggested by Fuller’s ambition and intellect, but one also sanitized of her infidelity. Once again, Bremer’s Hertha offers intriguing possibility. In the early, aspirational stages of planning, Hertha discusses her school’s goals in terms that closely resemble Fuller’s own objectives for her Boston Conversations for women. Writing to Sophia Ripley in August 1839, Fuller hoped that these Conversations would enable “well-educated and thinking women” to “ascertain what pursuits are best suited to us in our time and state of society, and how we may make best use of our means for building up the life of thought upon the life of action. Could a circle be assembled in earnest desirous to answer the great questions. What were we born to do? How shall we do it?” (Hudspeth, ed., The Letters of Margaret Fuller, 2:86, 87). Hertha describes her aspiration for her own school in similar, albeit more religious and less elite, ways. She dreams of a school, guided by conversation, in which young girls, out of whatever class of society they may be, which have awoke to a consciousness of a higher want and for whom the spiritual cell in which they have lived has become too limited, may acquire the true knowledge of themselves and of their vocation, as members of society; may teach themselves to reflect and to answer the questions “What am I? what can I do? what ought I to do?” (Bremer, Hertha, 283).

While Fredrika Bremer was not privy to private correspondence between Fuller and her supporters as Fuller undertook the first of four years of formal Conversations with women (and once with men) in Boston, Bremer had traveled to the United States in 1849, publishing her correspondence about that trip in Homes of the New World: Impressions of America (1853). Although Fuller was in Italy in 1849, Bremer not only toured extensively with Fuller’s close friends Marcus and Rebecca Spring but also spent dedicated time in Boston and Concord, where she became well acquainted with Waldo and Lidian Emerson, Elizabeth Hoar, Sarah Alden Bradley Ripley, Bronson Alcott, Ellery Channing, Theodore Parker, and other Transcendentalists and abolitionists. She attended and criticized rather sharply several Alcott Conversations (Homes, 1:173-175, 232-234), but she heard much from these new friends about Fuller’s “genius for conversation” and “ability for awakening enthusiasm in the minds of her friends. . . . The ‘Conversations,’ which she at one time gave in a select circle at Boston,” Bremer observes, “are spoken of as of the highest interest. Mrs. Emerson can not sufficiently praise her fervent eloquence and the extraordinary affluence of her mind” (1:169, 170). Given the depth of Bremer’s immersion in the Transcendental world of Boston and Concord, it seems possible that she would have well understood Fuller’s goals for the Boston Conversations and may have even considered Fuller a model for her fictional Hertha. What seems quite likely, however, is that in some fashion in both this Almanack and related Almanack-letter hybrid, MME connected the activist words and deeds of Bremer, Hertha, Fuller, and perhaps even herself.

While these networks of association and subsequent questions are ultimately speculative, they continue to illuminate MME as a woman and writer who strived for meaning and purpose well into her eighties. In this Almanack, the octogenarian MME, who rarely comments overtly on the cultural life of and expectations for nineteenth-century women, has in this instance potentially evolved in her thinking on devout women, for whom virtue often meant self-effacement and humility, and on her doubts about her own potential for courageous martyrdom. Earlier Almanacks document the tension between MME’s ambitions and gendered cultural and religious expectations (see, for example, folder 41, dated 1822, and the editors’ discussion of this subject in “Mary Moody Emerson as Reader and Reviewer”). Considered together, this Almanack-letter of August 1858 and her 1858 Almanack commonplace writing suggest that MME’s novel reading may have held the potential to forge a link between her long-held piety and dedication to a Christian and philosophical moral code; ongoing intellectual ambition; and incipient protofeminist claims for women’s right to education, vocation, and legal independence.

Houghton: page 350r;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 43

Orange Oct 9 ’55
“Christanity is a monotheistic belief { w’h | which } distinguishes itself { eseny | essentially }
from all others by the fact, that every thing in it is referred to
the redemption completed by Jesus of Nazareth”
Schleimacher!

Blessed truth! But blessed be God! there are original connetions
apriori in human nature { w’h | which } leads to God the intuitions! These
live—but the shadow of death & missery darken them when
man loses his nature by corruption. Then the blessed Jesus
is revealed and reinstats his right to the very eternal
attributes. Then how unspeakable the redemption! How lovely
how divine the gift of the antient divinity of this being, who
was with God the first of creation, and dwells in God by his
nature and love! Halleui His blood has another voice but
agony. One Cause is clear—an example for martrydom of every
kind. This world was designed for the glories of martrydom!
Yet dare I name it—when my very age and breakings
give me so much ease Not yet awake to sacrifices

1858 Jan. 16. Dear Elridge’s The 3d year and the same infirm
frail hungry skeleton mind. Yet I pray with earnestness
that God would end this divine gift of loving Him this
richest this only true gift of love to Him and alliance
with Him by His divine representative if I am deluded &
not regenerated to love him with heart & mind that is the
spark of reason { w’h | which } centers in the absolute the ineffable
the first incomprehensible Caus of all that exists. I pass An
gels & seraphs and seek a vivid apprehension of thee—
without this what were existence to one so helpless, so frail
so incapable of virtue & happiness. And the help thou
laid on one mighty to save—to sympathise with human life
what a world of treasure is for man. Oh let the { Chhs | Churches } partake

Houghton: page 350;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 43

{Handwritten addition: 597} end of handwritten addition
“From today dates, not nor yet from yesterday; but
From eternity, the moment known to no man;”

this day of his { influene | influence }. Blessed Jesus make haste to come
and reign on this confused guilty world Aid the { sab | sabbath } Schools have
mercy on the children & youth. God of mercy whose purposes
are wise & perfect { tho | though } Eclipsed look on thy coloured people
Behold their sufferings. Deliver me with thine own Hand!

Tues. July 27
M M Emerson
1844
Ezra Ripley

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 26), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 6 December 1846–22 January 1847. Waterford, Maine. Single manuscript sheet, bearing damage due to burning and mildew. MME’s nephew, Ralph Waldo Emerson (RWE), transcribed a portion of page two, which evidences that this single manuscript leaf was originally part of Almanack, folder 32. To conform to our editorial policy of replicating the Houghton Library’s manuscript order in this digital edition, we are therefore publishing the entirety of this Almanack here as a separate folder; these pages appear in their original placement in Almanack, folder 32.

Written when MME was 72 years old, this brief and incomplete Almanack should, as noted above, be read in concert with Almanack, folder 32. RWE’s transcriptions from this Almanack, which appear in his MME Notebook 2, provide text that is missing from George Tolman’s 1901-1902 transcription of this Almanack, evidencing almost certainly that RWE read a less damaged manuscript than did Tolman. In this Almanack, MME mentions her health having recently improved, which she attributes to horseback rides in the winter cold; her unworthiness as a Christian (a recurring theme in the Almanacks); and paying neighborly visits, presumably, given the year-end date, during the holiday season. Her reference to “elegant parties on this eve” gives an unusual glamour to MME’s socializing and leads her to recall, as she does in many Almanacks, her childhood of “privation” in Malden, Massachusetts—years in which she had no acquaintance with such affairs or, indeed, with “all social & literay [literary] advantages.” She has long since determined, however, that such hardships have enabled her pursuit of a more noble Christian journey. In her first Almanack entry, MME distills several pages from her reading of German idealist Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s Destination of Man, which appeared in a new English translation in 1846 and which she has apparently recently borrowed, along with another of Fichte’s works, from RWE. She attends particularly to Fichte’s focus on the nature of human consciousness and human agency and seems at odds with his finding inspiration in the condition of human uncertainty. At the end of a fourth chapter on “Doubt,” Fichte asserts that “I will lament when I have done wrong, and even this sorrow shall be dear to me, for it will be a pledge of future amendment” (Destination of Man, tr. Mrs. Percy Sinnett [London: Chapman, Brothers, 1846], 24-5). MME understands Fichte’s “lament” to mean that he is “a mere [re]cipient—a spectator—an unwilling agent,” a situation she regards as “antagonist to my very existence.” Her discussion of “[th]e connection between cause & effect in phisial [physical] [m]atters” seems to draw from Fichte’s ensuing chapters on “Knowledge,” in which the “Spirit” and “I” (the individual “hold[ing] converse with his own mind” [Fichte, 2]) interrogate at length the nature and limits of human consciousness and the reality of the external world. In a letter to RWE a few months after writing this Almanack, MME describes her enjoyment of Fichte, albeit she self-deprecatingly notes “my incapasity of head” to understand him fully. This Almanack ends in mid-sentence, an entry that as explained above, sensibly continues without interruption in RWE’s transcription of Almanack, folder 32, and describes MME’s enjoyment of solitude at her Elm Vale farm, while her housemates (niece Hannah Parsons and her husband, Augustus, who leased the farm in 1846–1847) were traveling (SL, 413).

Houghton: page 351b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 42

Vale Dec. 6 ’46
[To] begin another seemed too tedious but long
[t]ests with often cold rides has aided health. And
[no]w it would seem a foretaste of endless life to look
[fu]ll in the face that truth or fact or intuition
[is] unfolding element of spirit?— Angels may know
[its] psychology— I care not what—but in the
[h]alleluias of soul believe I can love ab
[str]actedly the God of nature ({ tho’ | though } clouds are
[ov]er it) in material & mental departments, and
damageder (oh how terrific, scocial life) and reve
[la]tion apart from my hopes on Him. Is it in the
[n]ature of things that an external { rev. | revelation } should
[t]hus induce faith (more requisite for the
[ab]solute invalid than for the stake) without it’s
[i]nternal adaptation to soul—it’s natural, like
[th]e connection betwen cause & effect in { phisial | physical }
[m]atters? Were there none of this connection
[a]nd no cause existing but the Absolute then
[we]re we perhaps more sure of the infinite
[w]orth of this capasity—gift or inspiration!
[If] so & how antagonist to my very existince is
[th]e lament of Fitche about his being a mere
[re]cipient—a spectator—an unwilling agent.
Oh
[th]at I who have passed so useless & { ignornt | ignorant } &
{ [un]xian | unchristian } life could have been an innocent instru
[men]t of the life breathing—giving consciousness.
damagede [ig]norant he appears of true piety
damaged Houghton: page 351;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 42
{Handwritten addition: 572} end of handwritten addition
For that the destination of the race shou[ld]
be endless cause for gratitude to exist udamaged
in & by the Creator, { hower | however } nobler the usdamaged
freedom & struggles for virtue. But I th[ink]
or feel that the more heartily we love God [&]
vertue the less of self denial & effort. ?

Dec [25 1846]
It is pleasant in this impty house to visit the [neigh]
bors
[RWE: saloons] of elegant parties on this eve. God bless th[em]
& preserve them from evil. When I am (rare[ly)]
counting up the long years of privation in Mald[en]
from all social & { literay | literary } advantages, & those of [the]
beautifull Wilderness { tho’ | though } famished alike of those, it [oc]
curs with force that to love the spiritual wo[rld]
to pursue the idea of it’s Author is worth a[ges]
as the price were it nessecary. To prepare b[y]
patience & submission to ignorance & nonentity (o[f]
the days { w’h | which } knew [RWE: have] no bright spot nor sharp [as]
cent—{ w’h | which } bring no memories of high deep affecti[on] [RWE: affections]
or sacrifies notable to redeem vacuity of age) damaged
prepare for eternal events of love & sympath[y]
is cheaply endured. Were human organisation [fit]
ted to perceive the divine prescence, as in a[ctive]
duties, or as loftiar minds, then there were no [vacu]
um—no voids in life—indeed no self denials—[no]
struggles with ennuie or externals.

Jan 22. ’47. How long [I]
have mouldered—but from this very nonentity w[ill]
arise some rich flowr—far in the depths (if so [named]
of feeling that nothingness has been my life—the [name]
of God dispells the cloud behind & before. Feeble [health]
intire solitude—glad of an [almost empty house, when]

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 29), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 2 October 1853—17 September 1855. Ashfield, Charlemont, Harvard, Shelburne Falls, Amherst, Deerfield, Montague, and Concord, Massachusetts. Single undamaged manuscript sheet that has been folded once to form four pages and that contains clear needle holes indicating that it was at one time part of a fascicle whose other pages have not been located or are no longer extant. Its undamaged condition also suggests that this sheet was not among the Almanack manuscripts that were salvaged from Waldo Emerson’s house fire in 1872. Page four contains text in a non-authorial hand, possibly that of Ralph Waldo Emerson.

This short Almanack includes three dated entries: 2 October, which the editors speculate is from 1853; 12 September 1854; and 17 September [18]55. During these years, Emerson is in her late 70s and early 80s, living an itinerant life that is reflected in entries noting her locales and the homes in which she’s boarding: “Ashfeild Howes,” “Mr. Luther Key’s house ’54 Charlemot Sep. 12,” and “Montague Sep 17 ’55 Mr Parkers.” Her assessment of these nomadic years, in which she is often forced to relinquish a good situation, reflects a matter-of-fact understanding, as she makes clear to friend Ann Sargent Gage, “It is natural that a single boarder must bear the natural results & disadvantages” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 556). Her nephew Waldo Emerson is even more casual about his aunt’s fluctuating abodes at this time, responding to his elder brother William’s news that Elizabeth Hoar and Mary Moody Emerson had recently visited him: “I hear with grief that that she is tired of Ashfield, & so she cuts off her best home, or what seemed her best, in the staunch protectorate of Charlotte Cleveland.” Two weeks later, he returns to this subject with William: “You tell me what I was sure to hear that she was already restless, & must fly—anywhere but here—is the motto of her life; and I see no help; for she cannot have such costly angels as Elizabeths & Charlottes every day & everywhere” (EmL, 4:446, 450). Although Waldo expresses general truths about his aunt’s independent and seeking spirit, he appears willfully or unconsciously oblivious to the unfortunate realities of an elderly woman’s life passed in solitude, including a lack of concern as to Mary Moody Emerson’s methods of coping with illness and misfortune. In her October 1854 correspondence, for instance, she reports being “unwell” and having to “pu[t] up at the hotel” after having “tried in vain for open fire places or open stove or even any place.” In a June 1855 letter, debilitated by rheumatism and erysipelas, a painful bacterial skin infection, Emerson reflects upon the likelihood of losing yet another temporary lodging. “There will be another door open,” she asserts resolutely. “I mean to journey for health about this reigion” [sic] (Simmons, Selected Letters, 565, 569, 570).

This Almanack’s first entry opens by praising a lecture (not yet identified) that Mary Emerson has been reading, which “abounds with illustrations & lights on the econymy of Providence, of lasting value adorned by an eloquence w’h [which] must rivet attention.” She appreciates the lecture’s philosophical valuation of the arts and what she refers to as “the moral power of the best Artist.” But Emerson also doubts that art and philosophy can achieve what religion has done for the obscure and for martyrs, since as she judges “there are problemns [sic] of an exclusive religious nature w’h [which] lie at the basis of human existence w’h [which] even this powerfull [sic] writer has not solved & probably never can be.” Here she critiques the insufficiency even of the “certitude” of John D. Morell, whose Philosophical Tendencies of the Age (1848) and Philosophy of Religion (1849) present three ways of attaining knowledge: reason, intuition, and a combination of the two. In contrast to Morell’s scientific means, which is only one of the bases he offers for achieving “certitude,” Emerson values more Christians’ faith in the mysteries of their religion and the subsequent intuitions of the heart, which Morell also proposes, as she discussed in her correspondence a few years prior to this Almanack. In July 1849, she recommends that nephew William Emerson read “the prevailing philosophies” of Morell, whose Philosophical Tendencies his brother Waldo has recently lent her. Yet “much as I like Morrell want no ‘scientific’ grounds of the certitude of my knowledge—better like his views of the ‘intuitions,’” she confirms to Sarah Alden Bradford Ripley (Simmons, Selected Letters, 512).

The Almanack’s second entry is dated 2 October [1853] and indicates that Emerson is boarding with the family of Samuel and Pamela Howes in Ashfield, Massachusetts. She continues to contemplate Morell’s notion of intuition, claiming that a passage she quotes from his Philosophy of Religion delivers “a fullness of existence” to her: “The great spheres to w’h [which] our intuitions are directed are those of the beautiful the good and true, & corresponding to these are three classes of emotion aesthetical, the moral and those hitherto unnamed heavings of the spirit, when it contemplates the awfull majesty and immensity of Being—pure eternal Being!” Taken up with the “infinite problemn of ‘Being,’” Emerson yields to the biblical reminder of “the record of the Jesus!” for “words of support.” In the next entry, Emerson takes up her pen nearly a year later, on 12 September 1854, which date finds her boarding at the home of Luther and Rosaline Keys in Charlemont, Massachusetts, some sixteen miles northwest of her previous locale in Ashfield. Emerson joyously pens that she’s “been reading what I longed for,” likely referring to William Ellery Channing’s Memoirs (1848), which she indicates to friend Ann Sargent Gage she’s been reading for the past two weeks and has “found full cause for my confessial when I compared his deep humility & fervent charity.” On this page, Emerson also indirectly alludes to her reading of Horace Bushnell’s God in Christ (1849), whose attempts to combine theology and science she complains to Gage “rather disturbs my old intuition of the Absolute necessary Being whose idea is an element of the soul?” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 566-7).

Another year passes before the next entry begins on 17 September 1855, a passage of time also indicated by a much darker ink color than the other lines on this Almanack page. Now Emerson boards with farmers Charles and Roxana Parker in Montague, Massachusetts, “an uncommon pleasant thickly settled Villige,” as she describes it in another letter to Gage, to whom she also indicates her trouble finding affordable and comfortable lodging. Emerson also misses treasured items from her previous long-time home in Waterford, Maine—her books, bookshelf, blankets, and a memorial medallion of beloved nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson (Emerson to A. Gage, 17 August 1855; Emerson to A. Gage, 26 November 1855). Several other dark ink corrections on the preceding Almanack pages suggest that Emerson may have made them when reading over the prior year’s entry while penning this short September 1855 entry. Examples of these darker-ink corrections include the reforming and adding of letters in “inevitable” on the penultimate line on page one; the reforming of several letters in “creation” in “necessity of creation”; reforming the “f” in “to fill the”; reforming of the “o” in “possibly the agent”; and reforming the “e” in “let” in “let them lie hid,” all on page three. In this entry’s reference to the “beauty & power this rev[elation] of Eph.,” Emerson probably refers to Ephesians 1 and 3, where Paul reminds the Christian residents of Ephesus of God’s revelation: “That the God of our lord Jesus Christ . . . may give unto you the spirit of wisdom and revelation the knowledge of him: The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the story of his inheritance in the saints” and that, further, “the Gentiles should be fellow heirs” of the apostles’ words and deeds in the spirit of this revelatory calling. Herein, Emerson reiterates her lifelong association between social reform—be it in service of abolition, the poor, or aged single women—and the spiritual “calling” of the apostles, saints, herself, and her contemporaries. She includes a typical but passing expression of this idea in an 1855 letter describing “the good signs w’h [which] prevail in missionary projects and increased public charities and the hardness of times with the laboring classes,” but she articulates the idea more eloquently in her 1855 observation about the “rev of Eph.” in this Almanack (Simmons, Selected Letters, 569-70). “What a gloreous presentiment rises like light over darkness when the spirit of inspiration leads us to the adoption of children in ages past & ordained us to good works!,” she exults. “Here opens vistas of somthing.”

Despite the undamaged condition of the manuscript itself, Emerson’s unsteady hand in this Almanack is quite difficult to discern, evidence of her age, of the ongoing “tedious times of ill health” that she references in her 1854 entry, and frequently, of failing pens. “I hate to pester you with my poor steel pen,” she confesses to Ann Sargent Gage in October 1854; “[I] think you ca’nt read” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 567). The challenge of reaching editorial decisions is therefore difficult enough that we provide here several examples of our uncertainty from the manuscript. On the first line of page one, Emerson forms “illustrations” such that the “o” appears a thin line with no loop; midway on page one, the word we have regularized to “declining” appears as “dcelening” or “declening” in that the initial “i” contains no i-dot, added to which are inconsistent spacing between the letters and a shallow “c” formation, the latter a common phenomenon throughout this Almanack. A few lines below on this first page, Emerson’s ampersand (often elaborate and variously formed in the Almanacks) in “spirits to the cross & to the publick” is potentially cancelled. Further on this page, multiple instances of Emerson’s “o” and an overly-looped “u” in “profoundest” are seriously ill-formed, similar to the “o” in “of” further below on this page at “the certainty of” and the “u” in “our” midway on page two in “our intuitions.” In addition to these ill-formed letters, Emerson’s hand in this Almanack is unusually ornate. Examples include near the end of page one, where the final “e” on “improve” is extended and embellished such that the word could be construed as “improves.” On page two, similarly formed instances of final “e” flourishes are “those” in “those of the beautifull”; “nature” in “book of nature,” “the” in “the inspired,” and “tremble” in “tremble at using.”

The last entry in this Almanack is a scant three lines indicating “M. M. E.” and the location and date from the previous entry. These lines appear in a hand other than Emerson’s, most likely her nephew Waldo Emerson’s.

Houghton: page 379b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 39

{Handwritten addition: 596} end of handwritten addition
This 7t[h] { lect | lecture } abounds with illustrations & lights
on the econymy of Provedence of lasting value adorned
by an eloquence { w’h | which } must rivet attention.
If the conser
vitive disputes the value of machinery and the moral
power of the best Artist, his acrimony will be soften
ed. If he still recurs to the sad facts of true and
ever honored genius like Dante Columbus and num
bers of suffering talents (even the { xian | christian } Young who
meanly wished the notice of a Queen), the favor of pub
lick & its oracles were nessceary to aid his their powers &
brighten their { declening | declining } life. How many amiable
Keates have actually died? And it will always be a
doubt, with the obscure & ignorant, whether the arts &
science itself have aided made the most stronge & martyr
spirits to the cross & to the publick welfare? There
are problemns of an exclusive religious nature { w’h | which } lie
at the basis of human existence { w’h | which } even this pow
erfull writer
as yet has not solved & probably never
can be in this life by the profoundest & widest phi
losophy, but { w’h | which } { xianity | christianity } alone remidies by a faith
{ w’h | which } is supernatural. More than faith—the certainty of
its truths coeval with & developing the { intuiteons | intuitions } of the
heart. Here is the certitude,” { w’h | which } even Morell cannot
improve.
It is content with what is nessecarily mysterious
as it is an inevitable condition of a being like man, and
often adds to the charms of his future prospects in the Houghton: page 379;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 39
worlds of knowled[g]e and indescrible joy of studying the
Infinite! Here lies the glorious effect of this lecture,
when by a few facts of the wonders of that God gift
by { w’h | which } the idea of the powers of the Creator were
{ bro’t | brought } to veiw in His works! Then the most imprisoned
& limited soul finds an ark of safty in this incompre
hensible and boundless Being { thro | through } the medium of His
Son! And mysteries & a world of complicated ills all
vanish and the restoration of the time worn race
gives a consolation { w’h | which } no { delighfell | delightful } prospects of
its “progress” here can equal
. More more lectures!

Ashfeild Howes Oct. 2 The great spheres to { w’h | which } our intu
itions are {Addition: directed} end of addition are those of the beautifull the good
and true, & corresponding to these are three classes
of emotion aesthetical, the moral and those hitherto un
named heavings of the spirit, when it contemplates the
awfull majesty and immensity of Being—pure eternal
Being”!
How I dare to write the above when such a full
ness of existence followed the reading. This this alone ren
ders the future so unspeakably glorious. And when we
get a gleam, whether from the science of nature or
book of nature—from the intuitive craving of soul,
sanctioned by the inspired { rev. | revelation } seems perfected joy till
the guilt of sin returns and we tremble at using the
pen. Then comes words of support from the record of
the Jesus! And times ills and prostrate resolutions vanish.
Ages may pass in preparation to percieve as higher ones
pure eternal Being! But they’ll pass! and this infinite pro
blemn of “Being” will increase to brighten things ({ w’h | which } I dare not
call Being) mean & earthly & spotted like poor penitent me!

Houghton: page 380b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 39

Mr. Luther Key’s house ’54


Charlemot Sep. 12 { Sab | Sabbath } Morn.
Been reading what I longed for { Dispd | Disappointed } What of final causes { w’h | which } I
have loved so
But this hour I pass them, & all his cool { calatons | calculations }
to the Absolute the nessecary glorious first Cause. There lives
the eternal and I in Him by nessesity of creation. Halleluia. A
moment & comes the sins weakneses & disgraces { w’h | which } have kept
me penitent these tedious times of ill health. Well there comes
the Cross, who { tho | though } possibly the agent & priest of worlds before
ours, yet died after sufferings, from { w’h | which } he shrunk, to fill the
awfull chasm { w’h | which } sin had made between God & man, and to
individual misery a safty & assurance.
With this { rev.n | revelation } if we are
blind to the science of final causes
—let them lie hid till hereafter
If a fantastical use has been made of them what has not human
fanaticism polluted by superstition & depravity! This faith I call
abstract
, as it depends on nothing material, { tho’ | though } the Author, & I { sup | suppose }
he is right, calls his veiws from science abstract
.
That only
to me is of the higher kind { w’h | which } lives & yields joy in sorrow
& independence of health & prosperity. The condition of fallen
race well felt will find a glorious final cause in the agency of { X | Christ }

Montague Sep 17 ’55 Mr Parkers
What a beauty & power this { rev. | revelation } to { Eph. | Ephesians }
What a { gloreous | glorious } presentiment rises like light over darkness
when the spirit of inspiration leads us to the adoption of children
in ages past & ordained us to good works!
Here [o]pens vistas of
somthing

Houghton: page 380;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 39

{Addition: M.M.E.
Montague,
Sept. 17 55} end of addition

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 31), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 7-9 November, 1826. [Waterford, Maine]. One largely undamaged MS sheet, folded twice to form a three-sectioned packet. (Note: The editors speculatively date this Almanack as above and have also determined that this sheet was almost certainly originally contained in Almanack folder 8 but removed from that folder and included in a letter Emerson sent a week later to her nephew Ralph Waldo Emerson. In keeping with our editorial policy of publishing the individual Almanack folders in conformance with the Houghton Library filing system for these manuscripts, we have published this sheet here as folder 31; it will also, however, be published in its original placement in Almanack folder 8.)

In this Almanack, MME conveys her thoughts about the immortality of the soul and its engendering of “moral character,” prompted by her discussion with a Unitarian clergyman she had recently met while traveling who had relayed his skepticism about the “souls immor. [immortality].” Based on her remarks about this man in letters later this month to her nephews William Emerson and Ralph Waldo Emerson, he can be identified as a Reverend Peters. Deliberating on their conversation, MME remains steadfast in believing the soul to be immortal, a conviction that thereby gives “proof that there is a God & that man is to live in higher state.” Jesus, she maintains, has “restor[ed] . . . immotality to man.” Her correspondence this year with Waldo Emerson, and her concern over his frail health at this time, further contextualize MME’s focus on the subject of immortality in the fall of 1826. In late November, Waldo went to South Carolina and then to Florida in an effort to alleviate increasingly serious symptoms of tuberculosis; his journal commentary reflects self-castigation for low spirits as well as his attempts to seek some spiritual benefit from the physical pain. His first sermon, delivered several times between October and December of this year, addresses the prospect of compensatory afterlife for those who have lived ethically. As the letter mentioned above to Waldo’s elder brother, William, indicates, MME had attended Waldo’s sermon, and in another letter to Waldo, she proposed that her reading in his 1826 journal (much of which is devoted to sermon drafts) “has resusitated me.” Later in November, in a letter written days before he set sail for his health, she directs similar praise to Waldo again: “Your scatterd pages of [sermons] I shall [here] pick up like gems.” Evidencing here—as in the preceding letter—their manuscript exchange practices, she describes enclosing with this correspondence an Almanack leaf, as Waldo has asked her to do: It tells “the old old story—but friendship will pardon—besides—you will see that what you have requested is not worth the having. I love to look back on the dark moments of doubt—for they [rake] up truth . . . Please to return it as it belongs to others. . . . I should not give you these pages but the [lyre] of your clerical character flatters me that they will not be dispised.” Although MME’s notion of immortality in this Almanack is similar to the views Waldo has articulated in his sermon, in this Almanack MME disputes his view—perhaps purposely engaging him in theological debate—that we undertake a moral earthly life for the sake of earning a blissful eternity. Even if there were no afterlife, MME insists, we should “cling” to a “moral governor” and exult in every living moment of adhering to what is “agreable to His will.” Whether or not the soul itself is immortal, the spiritual and intellectual products of human existence, she believes, will live on after death: “Oh yes let us live to day—& though doubts of being no more should intrude let us crush them with becoming immortal by living in & with & for God while we do live. He lives—’tis enough give the reins to hope—virtue can never die—the thoughts w’h grasp at God can never perish—they are already passed into infinity!” Finally, this Almanack reveals that MME continues to hold firm in her faith when confronted with another religious skeptic, this time “an idolised friend,” likely sister-in-law Sarah Alden Bradford Ripley. “The dark demon of doubt,” she reports, has been “shaken off,” and she asks God to allow her to “die in the strenght of such an illusion” if in fact her faith is mistaken (MME to William Emerson, 5 November 1826, and MME to Ralph Waldo Emerson, 12 and 19 November 1826, both in Ralph Waldo Emerson additional papers, ca. 1835-1891, Houghton Library, Harvard University, bMS Am 1280.220 [67-116] and [847], respectively; Ralph Waldo Emerson, Journals and Miscellaneous Notebooks, vol. 3, ed. William H. Gilman et al. [Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1963], x, 46, 48; Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Complete Sermons of Ralph Waldo Emerson, ed. Albert J. von Frank et al., vol. 1 [Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1989], 41-42, 60-62; Selected Letters of Mary Moody Emerson, ed. Nancy Craig Simmons [Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1993], 220).

Houghton: page 402b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 23

{ No. | November } 7.
that—is it the mountain air? Oh it is the will
of God { w’h | which } gives to objects their adaptation—surely
then who adapts the sentiment of Himself to the
ardors of the soul—to this nameless excitment of
existence. Oh deleteddge of life deleted doing
—riding seeing—for nothing but ere sorrow { bro’t | brought } me
to the joy deletedact Could I have benefited the sick
or poor who better than these joyous emotions
. One
{ converstion | conversation } of a day long interested deeply—found with
some sattisfaction that I could reason—that the old school
of unitairianism afforded advantge over calvinism—in { yt | that }
day too was shocked to learn that Mr‑‑‑ said he had doubts
of souls { immor | immortality }. A dreadfull moment passed—& I asked my
Antagonist who related the unitarian doubt opinion—if there
were no { immortal.y | immortality } what would be our interest here?
“Why there would be no great use in moral character”

This restored me—& I declared that if there was a
{ noral | moral } govenor like the God we had believed in it
were alone desirable to cling to Him—to indivi
duate ourselves with Him—to enjoy the short mo
ment of existence by adherence to all we thought
agreable to His will. Oh, this sentiment is proof that
there is a God & that man is to live in higher state
Intellect—moral priniples—feelings all declare that
this dreaming buzzing reptile state is preparatory to
another. If in a large corrupt busy City where the
multitude seem born for the great pageantry of the
aristocratic this persuasion is justled—sickned—it re
vives with order in solitude. The very exhibition
of the fanatics last { sab. | sabbath } gave the lie to infidelity

Houghton: page 402;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 23

Noon {Handwritten addition: 1016} end of handwritten addition Oh yes let us live to day—& { tho’ | though } doubts of being
no more should intrude let us crush them with
becoming immortal by living in & with & for God while
we do live. He lives—{ ti’s | ’tis } enough give the reins
to hope—virtue can never die—the thoughts { w’h | which }
grasp at God can never perish—they are already
passed into infinity!

Night. Jesus the restorër of immotal
ity to man. Those who forget—deny or forsake him may
well be left to doubt of it—to lose it perhaps. Man
ruined—fallen from his original charactre & destination
lost sight of his divine origin & end. Hence the
worth & majesty of this restoration—the danger of dis
puting it—the pride & persumption

8 { M. | Morning } Christianity { w’h | which }
an idolised freind told me in her fervor was progressively
got up—& seems to think she had its history could cannotnot
be thus traced.
The most wonderfull circumstance of evi
dence both { ex. | external } & { in. | internal } is that it antisapated all the im
provements of {Handwritten addition: &} end of handwritten addition development of the reason & faculties of
men

9. { M. | Morning } Restored to Heaven—by devotion & faith—& the
dark demon of doubt { w’h | which } levity & sin insensibly { cultered | cultured }
is shaken off—that must be an immortal principle
{ w’h | which } is capable of hanging so strongly on invisible Being
—& { yit | yet } He is visible—known & felt—that must be
an immeterial substance { w’h | which } is capable of so high
illusion—if it be an illusion— Oh my God let me
die in the strenght of such an illusion. If there
are terrors in thy more immediate presence, let
me go and Thou wilt support me { thro’ | through }

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 32), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written 6 December 1846—23 March 1847. Waterford, Maine. Six manuscript sheets, showing damage from burning, foxing, and mildew. Ralph Waldo Emerson’s transcription of a portion of page two evidences that the first manuscript leaf was later separated from this Almanack folder, leading to it being filed in its own folder when the manuscripts were later deposited at the Houghton Library; at that time, this single leaf was designated Almanack, folder 26. To conform to our editorial policy of replicating the Houghton’s manuscript order in this digital edition, we are publishing that leaf twice: first, as the complete two-page contents of Almanack, folder 26; and here, as the first two pages of Almanack, folder 32. Scholars who consult either the microfilm or the original manuscripts at the Houghton Library should be aware that this leaf is housed there only as folder 26 and is not included in folder 32.

With few dated entries, and with damage that results in missing text on every page, this Almanack’s chronology and resulting pagination are problematic. This is especially true in the case of what we present below as page four, but which we also judge could reasonably be positioned as page eight. Our reasoning is as follows: the sole date on this page is “14 sab” (Emerson’s abbreviation for “sabbath”), a Sunday that, based on other dates in this Almanack, we speculate is 14 February 1847. Since the page that follows contains an entry dated 11 [February], her date of “14 sab” on the prior page is erroneous if the pages are correctly placed. In transcribing several excerpts from this Almanack in his “MME Notebook 2”, Waldo Emerson dates an entry at the end of page six as 27 February 1847, which he follows with additional transcriptions of entries from page seven. Page eight, which MME dates 1 March, then follows in correct chronological order. Thus, either placement of what we regard as page 4 or page 8 reflects Mary Emerson’s mistaken dating, a not uncommon situation in these disordered manuscripts. These alternate page numbers are shown in the top center of pages 4-8. Unfortunately, Emerson’s discussion of her reading of Plotinus on this page sheds no light on its position, since it could sensibly fit the context of the surrounding pages in both scenarios, given that her multiple references to this figure occur indiscriminately throughout this Almanack.

During these winter months, Emerson resides at her Elm Vale farm in Waterford, Maine. She imagines spending the upcoming summer elsewhere, however, and tasks dear friend Elizabeth Hoar to investigate boarding options, directing her to prioritize convivial locales, since “dear Elizabeth I like taverns better than Widows” (Emerson to E. Hoar, 16 March [1847]). Although in the Almanack she occasionally mentions feeling “feeble” and ill from the chronic erysipelas that plagues her throughout her adult life, Emerson’s letters from this time are far more revelatory in offering context as to the extent of her suffering from this painful and disfiguring skin disease as well as from the cold New England winter. Late in March 1847, she relates to nephew Waldo that she is writing late at night because “half the day [is] taken up often in getting alive this curdling season” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 495). Earlier, she has indicated the severity of her poor health, and its impact on her physical appearance, to Lidian Emerson: “You know my foolish love of beauty, and I love to see myself decent – well this errarppelas [erysipelas] covered part of my face & eye with swelling & dark spots w’h [which] still remain & tease with invitation. And now & then drops a tooth w’h [which] reminds me of Eschylus’ toothless crones” (Emerson to R.W. Emerson, 23 January 1847). Moreover, her mental health deteriorates during these months. Emerson seeks “psychological” advice from Elizabeth Hoar as she confides to continuous “mysterious visions” and “partial insanity in sleep,” even as she admits to having sought similar counsel from both Dr. [John Collins] Warren and Prof. George Bush, who despite Emerson’s understanding that the latter “deals in visions . . . they could give no medial [medical] or phi. [physical] account, or perhaps did not choose to say they were symptoms of insanity.” She frets that her “mind . . . has lost imajination & eccentricities w’h [which] beguile some monotonous hours of youth.” Emerson seems to think that her strong antislavery sentiments may be responsible for these sleepless nights, though she claims to Hoar that she has tried fasting or eating lightly at dinner and does not “dwell on the sufferings of slavery” (Emerson to E. Hoar, 24 January and 4 February [1847]). Nevertheless, the nightmares persist.

These revealing self-assessments figure only occasionally and without context in Almanack, folder 32, such as when Emerson refers to herself as an “absolute invalid” and an “old crazy carcase.” Otherwise, these pages are taken up almost exclusively with her commonplacing from her reading, most often from Thomas Taylor’s translation of Select Works of Plotinus, the Great Restorer of the Philosophy of Plato (1817). Referring to the Neoplatonist philosopher as “Dear sainted Plotinus!”, Emerson revels in his belief in the omnipresence of God and the immortality of the soul, which accord with her “natural theology of a creed . . . that God the One, time & space were coeval a trinity.” Nearly all of these twelve Almanack pages display extensive quoting and distilling from several of Plotinus’s essays, particularly “On Eternity and Time” and “On the Good, Or the One.” She spends considerable time parsing Plotinus’s conception of the nature of God and the soul, and on his distinction between time and motion. A plethora of other figures whose works appear in this Almanack include Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Samuel Clarke, Dugald Stewart, Baruch Spinoza, Thomas Brown, Sir Humphrey Davy, Ralph Cudworth, Lord Byron, William Ellery Channing, Edward Young, and William Wordsworth. The result is an Almanack richly textured in philosophy, science, and literature, yet one almost entirely devoid of the contours of Emerson’s rather anguished life during the winter of 1846-1847.

As with its avoidance of her health, this Almanack’s steady record of commonplacing also contrasts with Emerson’s spirited missives to others about her reading at this time, suggestive perhaps of the different purposes for which Emerson reserved the epistolary versus the commonplace genres. Writing to nephew Waldo, she thanks him for sending a copy of his recently published Poems (1846) as well as other books she’s requested, including Fichte’s Destination of Man and On the Nature of the Scholar and Its Manifestations, the first of which she quotes from early in this Almanack. Her satisfaction with Fichte, as she summarizes to Waldo, derives especially from his simplicity of expression and his “good” faith (Simmons, Selected Letters, 495). Her method of borrowing and returning these books is facilitated via their mutual friend and Emerson’s Waterford neighbor Charles Farrar, who delivers them to Elizabeth Palmer Peabody’s book shop in Boston, as evidenced in a note in this letter to Waldo that Emerson “expects to send your books tomorrow to Boston West St.” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 495). In flattering Waldo on the publication of his Poems, Emerson notes that she’s seen complimentary reviews of the volume in the press and blames her recent ill health on not having read it immediately: “You know I never read any thing of yours when head not only in its pristine clearness but heart whole.” Instead, Emerson explains that—as this Almanack amply displays—she has employed her limited attention span to reading the works of Plotinus. She passes on to Waldo the compliments of her niece Hannah Parsons and Charles Farrar, who was eager to borrow Poems from her. In addition to his advocacy of antislavery and temperance, Emerson also values Farrar’s interest in Transcendentalism, and lets Waldo know that he “feels himself a sort of pupil to you . . . he breaks the silence of my room acceptably.” A more honest sense, perhaps, of Emerson’s feelings for her nephew’s Poems comes in a note enclosed with this letter, “For L[idian]. Emerson’s private eye”: “I can’t get interested in this Poet. the little I’ve looked over” (Emerson to R.W. Emerson, 23 January 1847).

Other books that she’s reading go unmentioned in the Almanack, yet elicit strong critiques in her correspondence and, as noted above, may indicate how differently ways of reading references figure in both, particularly in regard to novels and short fiction. To Elizabeth Hoar, Emerson praises the strong-willed eponymous protagonist of George Sand’s protofeminist novel Consuela (1842) for having “feared no frowns from the gossip of the world did & said what she believed right.” Yet she also judges her as “failed in passion for vile man & as an actress failed in higher modes of enjoyment” (Emerson to E. Hoar, 15 October and 9 December [1846]). A few months later, again addressing Hoar, Emerson dismisses Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story collection Mosses from an Old Manse (1846) as having “not please[d] much.” Quite understandably, her reaction to Mosses is personal, its title deriving from the historic Concord home in which Emerson was born. She takes issue especially with Hawthorne’s characterization of the house itself as well as with the treatment of the famous skirmish in her back yard in 1775 at the North Bridge: “But in the first [part] the old Manse (w’h [which] by the way he makes very free with & its good old books w’h [which] descended from my ancestors) he expresses (you may remember) a strange interest in the tradition of a boys killing, or finishing, one of those british soldiers. Nothing can be less true & if when the books return you will be so kind as to read the counter evidences w’h [which] I inclosed & contradict H___’s whim I will be glad.” Hawthorne’s story “The Celestial Rail Road,” though, Emerson enjoys “with zest . . . except the caricature of transcendentism” [sic] (Simmons, Selected Letters, 493).

Emerson’s literary references in Almanack, folder 32 are generally more straightforward than the above examples from her letters, but her literary allusions in folder 32 occasionally provide intriguing examples of her dialogic distillation practices when referencing long passages in her reading and/or multiple sources, often repurposing the meaning of her original sources or musing upon or arguing with them within her ostensible quotation. As one example, on page 7, she begins a quotation with the phrase “forgetfulness [of] all that justice must have required of affection,” neglecting to add close quotation marks and thereby leaving its end uncertain. The only portion of this passage that we have determined definitely to be quoted is the phrase “to plunge in to the [a]byss of the Infinite,” which appears in multiple literary works with which Emerson was probably familiar. As the annotation of this passage on page 7 explains, a possible source for some portion of this quoted material may be an article on “Byron and Göthe” that appeared in the Monthly Chronicle in 1839, and that praises the terror-ridden imagery in Byron’s dramas Manfred (1817) and Cain (1821). Interestingly, Emerson seems to allude to phrases from this article without directly quoting from it, as when she apparently quotes the following, which does not appear in the article: “to lose all consciousness . . . I would not lose those thoughts [&] feelings w’h [which] thro [through] life have united me . . . when to be alone forever thus so dear.” Yet these sentiments may well allude to the article’s depiction of both Cain and Manfred being “intoxicated with eternity” as “they plunge into the abyss of the Infinite . . . followed by a certain secret and ever-wakeful terror.” With her self-critical tone in the lines that precede this passage, Emerson captures the gloom of Byron’s dramas. But in contrast to Cain and Manfred’s angst, “their souls . . . ill at ease” in both society and the spirit world, Emerson “longs . . . to plunge into the [a]byss of the Infinite.” Her mood may correspond to their “ineffaceable sadness” but seemingly for a distinctly different reason, as she may indicate in her epistolary references to nightmares and fears of insanity and in her abbreviated remark about herself as an “old crazy carcase” in this Almanack (“Byron and Göthe,” 245).

As with her frequent illness, it is in her correspondence rather than in the pages of this Almanack that we learn of increasingly pressing and disturbing financial circumstances in Emerson’s life at this time, related to her ownership of the Elm Vale property in Waterford, Maine. Emerson had long owned Elm Vale outright, as research of her attorney nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson had established in the early 1830s. Nevertheless, for many years she had charitably allowed her brother-in-law, Robert Haskins, the pretense of owning the farm, while she herself maintained the appearance of boarding with him and his wife, Emerson’s sister Rebecca. But Haskins was a poor manager who kept the house, barn, and grounds in disrepair, added to which he frequently failed to pay the taxes and, without Emerson’s knowledge, even sold small parcels of the estate. On several occasions, Emerson paid back taxes to avoid losing her property (Simmons, Selected Letters, 412-3; Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 274-5). Following Rebecca’s death in January 1845 and frustrated by years of this failing “partnership” that existed solely because of her generosity, Emerson sold twenty-five acres of the property to Allen C. Mathewson, a Providence, Rhode Island jeweler (EmL, 8:63-64n222), an action that caused Haskins to approach Waldo Emerson, purporting to be the owner of Elm Vale, to seek his financial aid in recovering the sold acreage. Although he planned to lend the money to Haskins, Waldo first hired attorney family member Gore Ripley to investigate. Ripley soon determined what Charles Emerson had already proven over a decade before—that Mary Moody Emerson was clearly the sole owner of Elm Vale. Waldo then authorized Ripley to negotiate with Mathewson to buy back the property his aunt had sold, a buy-back that ultimately succeeded (EmL, 8:65, 3:371-2), although Mathewson evidently made a considerable sum on the transaction. Although Waldo later reports to his brother William his pique at his aunt’s lack of real estate savvy, or as he puts it, “her fancy-practice in real estate,” he also indicates that he’s long known Haskins was in fact not the owner of the property, though “you know [he] always fancied the farm was his.” If in fact Waldo was so aware when Haskins claimed otherwise during their meeting, it is not clear why he hired Ripley to confirm Charles Emerson’s earlier findings. To be sure, as an early American woman denied access to a formal education, Mary Emerson could not fully understand the financial complexities of her ownership of Elm Vale. Further, as Nancy Simmons explains, this “admitted ignorance about legal questions” is concomitant with her “impatience with details concerning mortgages and rents” and the like (Simmons, Selected Letters, 412-3). While this characterization does no doubt accurately assess the myriad of letters and legal documents concerning this case, this vexing situation—as revealed in numerous letters—also unquestionably makes clear that while Emerson admits to her lack of complete financial knowledge about the property, she is increasingly concerned about how and where to maintain herself as she ages and grows frail. Her twofold desire is to remain at her beloved Elm Vale as she advances in age and at the same time protect her inheritance and secure the home for her family, especially the nieces and nephews who “are all so attached to the place” (Emerson to R.W. Emerson, 27 February 1847). Ripley’s threat to bring legal action ultimately prevailed on Haskins to desist in falsely claiming to own Elm Vale (EmL, 3:371-2; Simmons, Selected Letters, 411-6). Mary Emerson then graciously deeded a cottage and twenty-five surrounding acres, along with a one dollar payment, to settle the affair for good (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 274-5). Hereafter, until the estate was sold in 1849 (Simmons, Selected Letters, 414), Waldo Emerson jointly owned Elm Vale with his aunt in order to consolidate her claims to it. Often frustrated by the need to rely on the men in her family for legal and other assistance, Emerson makes clear her displeasure at the slights rendered even by her beloved Waldo in his mailings to her: “Why dear Waldo do you direct things to care of Mr Haskins? No need of any name but M. [Mary] M. [Moody] &c” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 470).

It is the intellectual life of Mary Moody Emerson, however, rather than the personal ill health or the financial anxieties that are rendered in Almanack, folder 32. Exalting repeatedly in her reading of “Dear sainted Plotinus!”, Emerson finds solace in God’s omnipresence and looks forward to the springtime at Elm Vale as she bids farewell to the “curdling colds” of “hoary lumbered winter.”

Houghton: page 351b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 42

Vale Dec. 6 ’46
[To] begin another seemed too tedious but long
[t]ests with often cold rides has aided health. And
[no]w it would seem a foretaste of endless life to look
[fu]ll in the face that truth or fact or intuition
[is] unfolding element of spirit?— Angels may know
[its] psychology— I care not what—but in the
[h]alleluias of soul believe I can love ab
[str]actedly the God of nature ({ tho’ | though } clouds are
[ov]er it) in material & mental departments, and
damageder (oh how terrific, scocial life) and reve
[la]tion apart from my hopes on Him. Is it in the
[n]ature of things that an external { rev. | revelation } should
[t]hus induce faith (more requisite for the
[ab]solute invalid than for the stake) without it’s
[i]nternal adaptation to soul—it’s natural, like
[th]e connection betwen cause & effect in { phisial | physical }
[m]atters? Were there none of this connection
[a]nd no cause existing but the Absolute then
[we]re we perhaps more sure of the infinite
[w]orth of this capasity—gift or inspiration!
[If] so & how antagonist to my very existince is
[th]e lament of Fitche about his being a mere
[re]cipient—a spectator—an unwilling agent.
Oh
[th]at I who have passed so useless & { ignornt | ignorant } &
{ [un]xian | unchristian } life could have been an innocent instru
[men]t of the life breathing—giving consciousness.
damagede [ig]norant he appears of true piety
damaged Houghton: page 351;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 42
{Handwritten addition: 572} end of handwritten addition
For that the destination of the race shou[ld]
be endless cause for gratitude to exist udamaged
in & by the Creator, { hower | however } nobler the usdamaged
freedom & struggles for virtue. But I th[ink]
or feel that the more heartily we love God [&]
vertue the less of self denial & effort. ?

Dec [25 1846]
It is pleasant in this impty house to visit the [neigh]
bors
[RWE: saloons] of elegant parties on this eve. God bless th[em]
& preserve them from evil. When I am (rare[ly)]
counting up the long years of privation in Mald[en]
from all social & { literay | literary } advantages, & those of [the]
beautifull Wilderness { tho’ | though } famished alike of those, it [oc]
curs with force that to love the spiritual wo[rld]
to pursue the idea of it’s Author is worth a[ges]
as the price were it nessecary. To prepare b[y]
patience & submission to ignorance & nonentity (o[f]
the days { w’h | which } knew [RWE: have] no bright spot nor sharp [as]
cent—{ w’h | which } bring no memories of high deep affecti[on] [RWE: affections]
or sacrifies notable to redeem vacuity of age) damaged
prepare for eternal events of love & sympath[y]
is cheaply endured. Were human organisation [fit]
ted to perceive the divine prescence, as in a[ctive]
duties, or as loftiar minds, then there were no [vacu]
um—no voids in life—indeed no self denials—[no]
struggles with ennuie or externals.

Jan 22. ’47. How long [I]
have mouldered—but from this very nonentity w[ill]
arise some rich flowr—far in the depths (if so [named]
of feeling that nothingness has been my life—the [name]
of God dispells the cloud behind & before. Feeble [health]
intire solitude—glad of an [almost empty house, when]
Houghton: page 407;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 24
[the g]ood P‑‑‑s were journeying; for sickness of the
[old] { irrisippalas | erysipelas } invaded—but irritated not the
[sou]l. Plotinus says truly “no one will behold this light
[sp]eaking of the vision of God the supreme, who
[is] drawn downwards by things { w’h | which } are an impedi
[m]ent to this vision” “This One is not absent from
[a]ny thing and yet is seperated from all things;
[so] that it is present & not present with them.
But it is present with those things that are
[a]ble & prepared to recive it so that they be
[co]me congruous & as it were pass into contact
[w]ith it { thro’ | through } similitude & a certain inherent
[p]ower allied to that { w’h | which } is imparted by the one.”

[H]ere is genuine truth of reason & coeval with
the latest { rev. | revelation }! Dear sainted Plotinus! “God is not in
[a] certain place so as to desert other things; but wherever
[a]ny thing is able to come in contact with Him there
damaged not He is present.”
. “Cause howevr is not the same
[w]ith the thing caused.”
Hence must it not be denom
[in]ated that good { w’h | which } it imparts to others; but it is
[an]other manner the good, in a way transcending other
[go]ods.”
I” — — If the soul wishes to abide on high she
[wi]ll consider { potitical | political } concerns { unwothy | unworthy } to be the sub
[jec]ts of conference with the Deity. For this will be hi[s]
[lang]uage who has seen much of divinity. For as it is
[said], God is not external to any one but is present
[with] all things, { tho’ | though } they are ignorant that he is so
[for] they fly from Him, rather from themselves.”
Why
damaged[t] so exciting to hear the natural voice of the
damaged [t]rue to { rev. | revelation }? Yet in much of this very
damaged Houghton: page 407b;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 24 8
{ [Cha]p. | Chapter } on [th]e One. [Plotin]us remin[ds] of damaged
{ w’h | which } the artist says are in the quarry. Revelation damaged
have discovered a nobler decided faith & a[ppre]
hensions) of the Divinity than the highest { [tho’t] | thought }
of artist ever gave to the Statue { w’h | which } had bee[n]
laboured into form of more than mortal bea[uty.]
What clouds & shawdows bedim that brigh[t]
Spirit when labouring to produce into for[m]
the simpleist & grandest ideas of God—ideas [&]
elements { w’h | which } constitute a soul!
And { w’h | which } whe[n]
developed by foreign aid become so united to pr[ac]
tical and intuitive reason.

14 { sab | sabbath } Eve And yet when he [de]
scribes the nature & affinities of soul how ma[y]
the { xian | christian } be put a back who hesitates whethe[r]
it is immediately consious after death. One wo[uld]
almost wish they had nver heard of the resur[rec]
tion of body, & { tho | though } wholly indifferent to its rising y[et]
so mingled are the duties—so wholly the { xian | christian } [dis]
cipline seems to depend on it with the obscure [truth]
we can’t separate it easily.
And when Plato’s cyc[les]
return all things again
—do we not think he [was]
inspired with prophetic & vague notions {Handwritten addition: ideas} end of handwritten addition of the
{ resserection | resurrection }?? But { heer | hear } his diciple translator and tho[se]
miserable doubts of unconsiousness blush for th[e]
sort of non existence of an invalid.
“Hence it [is]
nessecay to hastend our departure from hence [to]
be indignant that we are bound to one par[t of]
our nature, in order that with the whole of our [true]
selves may we may fold oursleves about divi[nity]
& have no part void of contact with him! W[hen]
this takes place therefore[,] the soul [will both see
divinity and herself, as far as it is lawful for her to see him.]
Houghton: page 406;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder 24 4
damaged.

11. And how clearly does Plotinus reprsent
[th]e state ({ w’h | which } cannot be explained,) of the
[v]ision—or extacy expansion & accession or going out of one’s self”
[t]he { prohets | prophets }!! even the princly Isaiah or herd
[of] { [xi]ans | christians }! “If howver he has entered the Adytum
[he] obtains a true vision—if not entered, he
[w]ill conceiv this Adytum to be a certain
[in]visible thing, & will have a knowledge
[of] the fountain & priciple of things. But
[w]hen situated there, he will see the prin
[ci]ple, & be conjoined with it, by a union of
[li]ke with like, neglecting nothing divine
{ [w’]h | which } the soul is able to possess.” “Prior to the
[v]ision also it requirs that { w’h | which } remains from the
[v]ision. But that { w’h | which } remains to him who
[p]asses beyond all things is that { w’h | which } is prior
[to] all things. For the nature of the soul will
[ne]ver accede to that { w’h | which } is intirely non being.
[B]ut proceeding indeed downwards it falls into
[e]vil & thus into non being, yet not that { w’h | which }
damaged is perfect non entity. Running, howevr,
[in a] contrary { deriction | direction } it arises not at another
[thi]ng, but at itself. To be in itself alone, and
[no]t in being, is to be in God. For God is som
[thi]ng { w’h | which } is not essence but beyond essence.
[Hen]ce the soul when in this condition associa
[tes] with Him. — — — — And if he passes from him
[self] as an image to the Archetype, he will
[then h]ave the end of his progression. But
[when he falls from] the vision of God, i[f] he
damaged Houghton: page 406b;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder 24 5
from the vision, if he again excites [the vir]
tue { w’h | which } is in himself, & { percies | perceives } himself [to]
be perfectly adorned; he will again be e[le]
vated { thro’ | through } { vitue | virtue }, proceeding to { intellet | intellect } & w[is]
dom, & afterwards to the priciple of all thi[ngs.”]

Alas, had the soul not arived to this Pricip[le]

before the complete association—the loss of him
self in God?! And had only found the pricip[le]
of things? These glorious theories were but [the]
heralds of that Light { w’h | which } led { derictly | directly } to the gre[at]
Priciple. Yet how like { xian | christian } experience, an[d]
that divine ordination by { w’h | which } the soul retreiv[es]
it’s existence after wandering in the world
of social duties & hopes! But nver with
out the bitter memories of defeat—of worse
than non being—and for so smale an existen[ce]
as mine perhaps never regain the loss? If
voluntary, nver here—perhaps nver! Some
gleams of this vision dawns when actually a
spontaneous laugh arises at the certainty of a
decree { w’h | which } fastens the mind & even soul to
defeat whether in knowledge & influence or {Handwritten addition: of} end of handwritten addition fri[end]
ship. Purposes of God! how they lift the visio[n]
of all personal & forever—how excite devotio[n]
till they are darkned by human woe & gu[ilt.]
“If any” one says Plotinus, calls the disposition of sou[l]
according to { w’h | which } it perceivs intellectually & is s[till]
impassive, a resemblance of God he does not err
ndamaged
no no! Poor were age { w’h | which } is always impassive damaged


27. Tommorw hoary lumbered winter departs [in]
name—but his victories crowd the earth[.] Houghton: page 405;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 24 6
damaged may return in its beauty or curdling colds
[in] [with Pl]atonic cycles but { metaphicially | metaphysically } it returns no
[mor]e! Just passes into the back of eternity!
Oh may
[the] weary routine of miscellaneous thoughts, { tho’ | though } spot
[ted] brightly, yet compassing nothing, jilting the
[w]ill so often—so constitionally that were dis
[so]lution of old crazy carcase only to give the spirit [RWE: first]
[fr]eedom to ponder—to tie INTERNAL ERROR. Please report to wwp@northeastern.edu that listTranspose is unmatched. INTERNAL ERROR. Please report to wwp@northeastern.edu that transpose is unmatched. cause 2 to effect 1 [RWE: effect to cause]—to add
[on]e of my little earthly links to better ones—oh
[how] unspeakably grand compared to all the long
[w]aste here! And when absorbed in the open
[in]g sights of original Divinity—oh dare I antis
[ip]ate—so unworthy—so fallen from { youthfell | youthfull }
[good] by carelessness—more from that “forgetfullness
[of] all that justice might have required of affection
[h]ow dare I long as formerly to plunge into the
[a]byss of the Infinite
—to lose all but consciousness
[of] that! And yet I would not lose those thoughts
[&] feelings { w’h | which } { thro | through } life have united me to the
[On]e—when to be alone forever thus so dear

damaged
How drear the clouds & hollow the winds! I feel
[the sp]ort [a part] of them for the moment has just passed
[in]to the { irrevcable | irrevocable } when a single sentence of
[the] dear the inestimable Follen’s sacrifices
stunnd
[my] sleepy spirit. I who never made a sacrfice to
[the L]ord [record]—the rapture of giving mites were none
[disco]vered [cowered] in the nest of quiet for so many years

[To in]dulge [I indulge] the delight of sympathising in [RWE: with] great
[vir]tues—blessing thier Original—have I this right?
[O th]at I were passing into earth where the Laws
[of dissolu]tion seem more gratefull than those
[which built this useless frame, which] has { past | passed } ig
Houghton: page 405b;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 247
ignorant of all science { w’h | which } would have o[pened]
the charms of nature and more of those { w’h | which } damaged
have attached human affections.

March 1. “For [in]
a thing of this kind { w’h | which } in us (called by Proclus [the]
one, flower & sumit of the soul) we also tou[ch &]
assoceate with, & are suspended from Deity.”
W[ith]
this { w’h | which } bible believrs know by communion wit[h]
God, lived in the sublime Plato & Plotinus—yet
the humblest may taste its wealth. And wh[at]
cognisences of God dwelt in these men, their l[ife]
partakes of Deiety how below the { xian | christian } trintity—damaged
yet respected. And how destinct their intuiti[on]
of the One till they smothered it by theories. I damaged
the { chap. | chapter } on “immotality of Soul” would shame the
best of the materialists by the strenght of its
arguments on its indivisible real nature? Ala[s!]
it seemed that mine was divisible much [of]
the time to all skey & earthly influences. And
when the moments of concentrated {Handwritten addition: concentration} end of handwritten addition is given it
seems to idealise the eternal “nows” of time of
my noble author. If a cloud or tree seemd a
part of me this morning—’twas but as a lardamaged
On time—they are confused when calling it t[he]
same with eternity—why not rest there—fo[r]
it is only named & parceled out by planets [and]
the sad history of man, who has made of it [a]
god—& sacrifices body & soul to its molock cla[ims.]
Time as an abstract idea was always—oh [tre]
mendous time what hast thou number[ed]
since the fleeting race have given t[hee] Houghton: page 404b;    Editors: page 9;    part of Tolman’s folder 24
But hear the Sage “It is requisite tha[t we]
should betake ourselves to that condition of be[ing]
{ w’h | which } we say is in eternity; a condition { w’h | which } is im
mutable, & at once total, a life now infinite
and perfectly flexible and abiding in one,
and directed to the One”. He { gose | goes } on to speake of
time “generated by the reason & nature of tha[t]
{ w’h | which } is posterior.”
No, my natural theology of a
creed is that God the One, time & space were
coeval a trinity if it may be so called. And the
infinite gift of abiding in the One was reveale[d]
by the blessed Jesus whose wonderfull appointmen[t]
for this purpose was ordained when time w[as]
generated in forms & pregnant with misery fo[re]
seen. “Time an image of eternity” in the stilln[ess]
of the “wilderness where God hath built,” at m[id]
night it thus becomes, undefiled—unstunne[d]
and we cannot say with the philosopher “that
the Demiurgus made day & night to apprehend t[wo]
things— — —from { w’h | which } Plato said they arived at the
conception of number”
They might—but nigh[t]
& day too was made for nobler—infinite p[ur]
poses! But hear him on clearer ground.
“Wh[o]
ever fancies that beings governed by chanc[e or]
fortune & are held togather by corporeal ca[uses]
is very remote from God & conception of the [One]


March. 21. Those who write so much as some { xia[ns] | christians }
against virtue originating in the will of God an[d]
for that ’tis arbitary may be led into this diff[iculty]
from considering will human as most do the source damaged

Houghton: page 404;    Editors: page 10;    part of Tolman’s folder 24
[A]rt thou an essence how defaced—desecrated by
[th]ose thou supportest! Thou art more—as one
[of] my antients say—“a proceeding intellect, establish
[ed] indeed in eternity but proceeding & abundantly flow
[ing] { int | into } the things { w’h | which } are { gaurded | guarded } by it”
But more
[gr]and grand & clear is time streching his immeasurble
[tr]emendous wings { thro’ | through } the fathomless past
[&] [f]uture by being “the mode of Gods existence
[t]he existence of duration.”
Rather may we pass
[to the ve]nerable Clarke & say it is the very life of God
[tha]t constitues time & splace!
Time immovable—while
[the] suns & stars illegible serve as horologues and may
[re]turn to thier original night when new modes
[of] vision shall be telescoped in endless space. But
[ou]r concern is only that this existence or manifista
[tio]n of Deity be not consumed by stupidity or murder
[ed] by a suicidal soul! Could we personify this time
[&] hear the fancied Soul of the world lament he had
[gene]rated it from immovable eternity so pure, and
[tha]t it had numbered crimes of terrible names—
[tha]t his numbers { w’h | which } were ordained by the stars
[ha]d served for appointments of crimes—for the
[wor]ship of idols of antient & modern days—whether
[of] the less odious images of a Baal, or of misbegotten
[fam]e, tyranical power or Mamon.
How if this soul
[of the] noble Cudworth had intilligence
would he shrink
[with] horror at the approach of that period when
[all Time’s offspr]ing should be returned to its ocean parent!
Houghton: page 403b;    Editors: page 11;    part of Tolman’s folder 24
damageday damaged [arising] damaged
[c]reation from a few self evident propositons damaged
the nature of magnitu[d]es & numbers is [grad]
ually formed into an instrument of pure reas[on,]
(I should say understanding) of the most { rfind | refined } [kind]
applying to & illustrating all the phenomena [of]
nature & art, & embracing the whole system of
the visible universe
&ccc leaving the ear[th]
filled with its monuements it ascends to the
stars & measures & weighs the sun & planets[.”]

Now it does nothing with the ‘pure reaso[n]
which discovers the nature of the soul an[d]
mounts to its divine Author—nothing [with]
{ metaphisiys | metaphysics }—yet the mind prepared by it
for high induction should value it—bu[t]
if it can go without this ladder will


“We are obliged to obey the will of God becau[se]
we cannot avoid it—beca[us]e his will is the { pricp[le] | principle }
of our existence & law of our nature.
It is the p[lan]
of our { extience | existence } & action—the mode in { w’h | which } we live
& have being.”
Glorious—tell us not dear & vene[rable]
Clark that virtue (in nature & origin) does not originate { crated | created } in creatures in His [will]
—it is the eternal fittness—to { w’h | which } it is our eterdamaged
optimism to conform—utility for immutable perf[ection]
—“sympathy” with the origian of morals—n[ot]
debased forms of it in man. If Waldo had [given?]
his spiritual { wrld | world } this will I should better [have]
understood the inlargment of ours to it [as the]
sou[r]ce o[f] the m[oral.]

Houghton: page 403;    Editors: page 12;    part of Tolman’s folder 24
damaged

March 2[3] damaged
damagedst, were man one of the frailest
as a nesscery agent—(he might still have
[the] highest charm of virtue—love it for it’s
[own] sake) it would not follow that his Creator
[w]as a nessecay One. No! He the infinite
[On]e could bind one race & not another &
[ev]ery phisical & moral event of theirs be nes
[cess]ary— It is an infinitely free Being who alone could
[do] this. Why was thy { veneable | venerable } head so misled
[by] the natural conclusions of Spinozaism—puts
[a]ll of poor imprisoned { cratures | creatures } in a { govt | government } free &
[mat]erial. But were there but “one Substance
[re]lative & extensive infinitly.”
[&] every thing modifications of it”—the old forger
[y], of the bible God, would still hope to be a
[mo]dification of joy & hope—he would at the sight
[of] sin & misery say this modification is a nessecay
[evil?]— —but does not impeach the infinite bene
[v][o]lence of the Being who is united to {Handwritten addition: by} end of handwritten addition nesesity to
[the] destiny of univesal society. True, there is
[ne]ither reason nor sense here but feeling. Ah
[how] impossible to demonstrate by reasonings what
{ [“pre]tumuous | “presumptuous } [rea]son” feels. But against { nesseity | necessity } in bad senses
[of] [S]pinozaism, the indilible characters on the
[soul] are the sure demonstrations—these triumph
[over] all the plausibilietites of heretics in { nat. | natural } or { rev. | revealed }
[theol]ogy—philosophy & science. Oppose it with
damaged themselves they become mere phenomena

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 36), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 2 September-11 October 1814. Boston, Massachusetts. Two largely undamaged MS sheets, folded into quartos of four leaves each.

MME begins this Almanack with severe self-criticism and describes the preceding interval (likely the summer of 1814) as “the darkest 3 months I ever had,” a cryptic comment that may allude to the secular temptations of Boston life; the poverty of her widowed sister-in-law, Ruth Haskins Emerson; and the perils of war. Her bleak outlook continues throughout these pages, with extreme statements about her spiritual impoverishment, such as asking God to “forgive me the crime of breathing,” and, by the last page, arriving at the conclusion, “Life how contemptible.” This Almanack also offers a firsthand glimpse of what it was like to live in Boston during the War of 1812. As military troops massed in the city and residents feared imminent attack by the British, MME notes that many families were fleeing, although she describes herself as “calm” and stimulated by the frequent social and religious activities this Almanack documents. Later she refers to “the Nation in arms & bleeding.” Her reading at this time includes Henry Grove and Dugald Stewart. Biographical and family references indicate MME’s concern for the straitened financial circumstances of Ruth Haskins Emerson and her six children; cherished friend Sarah Alden Bradford visits MME in mid-September and again in early October; and in late September, MME’s stepfather, Ezra Ripley, pays her a “calm visit.” That month, MME also enjoys the Reverend Joshua Huntington’s anniversary sermon at the Boston Female Asylum, prayer meetings, and lectures.

Houghton: page 450b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 32
2. The darkest 3 months I ever had. Yet in God
I rejoice. His glory the ultimate end of my
existence. Oh joy! for me, so useless oh why do
I exist here and hereafter? Yet if dying thus
{ disd | disappointed | distressed }, I { sd | should } adore Him; the first Cause, and last end
This { morng | morning } I threw myself down again after ris
ing. And I felt more of my union to the Head
of human nature than ever I remember.
My miseries weakness, folly & disgrace appear
ed annihilatted before His wisdom strenght
and glory. A pall—[oh], mere death of plea
sure thrown over life is blessed—but I
live in the view of future disgrace
as well as past—yet bless God for my
existence—the heart wriths with an
guish I acknowlege— But convinced
that I was made to be incapable of
happiness with so depraveed and proud
a heart— Oh God forgive me the crime
of breathing—it would, I know, be a
greater to strangle. I rejoice I did not
bring myself into. existence. I shall one
day be a ray of light in the crown of my
Saviour—Jesus Christ.

3 { M | Morning } Sat. I rode with Ruthe &
Charles to Dorchester yesteday. Mercifully preservdHoughton: page 450;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 32
from injuring them or the horse—Which
weak { neves | nerves } led me to fear. Dined at { Jugde | Judge }
Paine’s
enjoyed the {Handwritten addition: it} end of handwritten addition{ tho’t | thought } relaxeation benifical—
But do not know. Poor creatuer whether I relax
or am austere. So poor, so deformed—that
an apathy takes me—indifferent to pleasing
strangers I like—but oh to feel no object—to
feel no tie to drag of me { thro’ | through } this mire of
life. Oh death how sweet! And Thou wert
sweet yesterday; when I contemplated with
full pleasur the { fairst | fairest } sight of earthly
pleasure in the form of the lovely Williams
engaged to a promising youth—surrounded
with hope & joy. This morning I read a
“few sentences of the certainty of morality! I used to choose that the will of God (whom
I love) should be the fountain & origin of
all morality— But my ideas have alwys
been confused—as led to faith & piety before
the theory of morals. But could it not exist
in the eternal and have no relation or obli
gation to man were man only a body with
out any attributes of spirit. Where would be
the what is falsly called the moral sense Houghton: page 451b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 32
—where any congruity between the eternal
obligations of right conduct and the {Handwritten addition: a} end of handwritten addition creature
without any principles inherent, { w’h | which } are
adopted to morality? All application of
religion must thus be miraculous.

Eve In
dured existence—lost temper, but strove to press
on. { Disd | Disappointed | Diseased } bodily perhaps—hard to bear up with sense
of weakness so great. Oh better than pride—

4 { sab. | sabbath } { M. | Morning }
A {Handwritten addition: O} end of handwritten additionh content to live an Exile from all that is great
and happy. To live to sin & suffer. God’s will. Re
joice today at the cross of Jesus, take the
pledge of his love—the seal of a covenant of
mercy and forget my disgraces— Oh of what mo
ment all that passed as a ball that is destined
by its nature, perhaps, to perish—surely ordain
ed to give place to better scenes? Oh nothing but
what widens the distance between God & the soul.

9. friday Eve.. { Sine | Since } the { Sab. | Sabbath } eve. The Inhabitants hav
suffered much from fear of the Enymy { assauting | assaulting }
the Town within a few days! Many families are
flying I am calm & the same.
Oh for a heart
to sympathise To me the joys & sorrows of
my Country make little change. My heart aches
for the depredations—but alone in the Univece
with God I ask but his will, his glory.

11.
{ Sab | Sabbath } yesteday unprofitable & today worse crime of ill feelings
Weak with indisposition but weaker at heart.

Houghton: page 451;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 32


13. A sad day read but not with avidity.
SA.B. gave me a medicine before she went
this { morng. | morning }

15. Yesterday { sader | sadder } uncharitable { tho’ts | thoughts }.
Today Pro. MR I found I had not erred. Health returns.


16 { M | Morning } . Too vehement in a good cause this breakfast.
The children could not understand— I { sd | should } remember
a certain Martyr who in his zeal to espouse the
cause left his closet and lost his faith.

18. { sab | sabbath } { E. | Eve }
How pecious were such { evegs | evenings } But my brain
is marble & my heart corruption. Yesterday sinned
today repeated it. Mercy. mercy. Frowns of Provi
dence on us. The Nation in arms & bleeding.
Oh for a situation to lose myself.

19 Good day
for me { enjt | enjoyment } { prvailed | prevailed }.

20 How constantly employed— How
much talk for others— Yet what a destitution of solemn
{ ferid | fervid } existence.

21 { M. | Morning } This hour! I dont ask even for
critical knowledge of scripture itself. Truth in all in
its majesty, charity in its richest luster, & holy
meekness need no aid from language and sci
ence. Give me Almighty God these and my
union to Thee is everlasting whatever be the va
rious meanings of words. God, it seems, has a
large family to employ and some he places to
dig the earth and some to groupe in the intric
{ aies | acies } of { etemolygy | etymology } and alphabets.

Noon “Incompre
hensible causes of the phenomena of { w’h | which } we are consci
ous, in the simple art of thinking, perceiving &
knowing”
— Happy sublime { incompehenibity | incomprehensibility }. Houghton: page 452b;    Editors: page 5 pages1
—proof of a soul, whose essence like to it’s
great a {Handwritten addition: A} end of handwritten additionrchetype, is covred with a mysterious
veil which mortality can never pierce! Yet
I dont reject with Steuart, the hypothesis, which
supposes the mind originally provided with a
certain portion of it’s destined furniture, inde
pendantly of any intercoure with the material
world.
Nurse from childhood, but this sentiment
(not opinion) had a vague hold of me.

Night. Whethe[r]
is the most wretched, the prophane under the sanc
tion of a dissolute religion, or the prophane under
the auspices of a divine religion? Each a
proof of human depravity

22 Went to Action without
{ impt | import | improvement } Dr Farnworth tead here. I am smale But infinitely wors[e]
sinned amid the pleasur of morning

24. Attended Female
Asylum Sermon. Felt poor { w’h | which } I did not use to. Bless God
for the institution. Oh may it may be maintained these
hard times.

25 sat Eve Appt day of much { py | piety }—but seldom
felt so badly. I had error &c to repent of— But oh
God of mercy— Crush me not I committed others
broke a mental resolution in great part { thro’ | through }
the prevalence of bad temper about some ex
tavagance. Oh let the world go—let lone other
{ conivers | connivers } & attend the dreadfull beam in my
own eye.

{ Sab. | Sabbath } { M. | Morning } 26. If the body is not the same in
any particle after 7 years is it not proof of the
immetiriality & spiritual nature of soul that { peron | person }
al idenity continus?

Noon Highly interested in Mr Hs
sermon on the war. Ah me I feel alone and in prisonHoughton: page 452;    Editors: page 6 pages1
ignorance so profound of all that ajitates
the intellectual religious & political world! I taste
this day the consciousness of existence—but oh
how “bare”! Could I aid this little family—so
embarressed—But alike destitute in wisdom
frendship & property. But the wants beyond
sight gripe the most with me. I have when
more ignorant laughed at poverty—without
any provision for a home beyond the week.


Night How rich this conscousness I have not read
nor prayed today— So long { sine | since } this vivid state of
life

28. Eve. Low low day { tho’ | though } fine health & spirits
yet low in cares { w’h | which } bend me to earth. I wake with
new life and hunger for some relation to my soul.
I feel a stranger yet somthing like delusion flits
before me. Oh God most true and glorious { cush | crush }
not always a creature { w’h | which } loves & seeks Thee
amidst. Oh I praise Thee for this health, this
freshness of consciouness. Yet un-fit to { uniterpted | uninterrupted }
{ acq.t | acquaint } only with beings weake & afflicted like myself
How can I lose the grasp the clay clod { fettres | fetters } with
{ w’h | which } I’ve been bound to these 40 years! Oh the worm
is better than these good days of physical not moral
life. We expect to go to Concord— I never was more
uncertain where I shall go whether to Malden with
the care of that poor delerious Aunt, or Wateford
but this I only ask a change for heart { improvt | improvement }

Houghton: page 453b;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 32
29. Father came on tuesday calm visit and
kind in him. God most mercifull bless my
family My parents brothers & sisters. Oh could I
add to their happiness. How sweet the feeling of
gratitude for the least attention. Today I went
to Acton prayer meeting at Baptist society.

Disappointed in the spending of whole day
But this return of health is most { swet | sweet }.


Oct. 1. Yesterday what high life in mind yet what a
poor day { dist | disappointment } fatigued { case | care }. Went to lectuer at B.S.
A smale smale portion of { enjoyt | enjoyment } for me in this world—
but more than deservd. I bless God for a low condi
tion and feeble acquisitions— If His will.

4. This
{ morinig | morning } opened full of charms—a few moments &
I heedlessly decievd O— S.AB. was here last night. She
is an uncommon girl I I {Handwritten addition: w} end of handwritten additionish S.R. { wd | would } have her.
Dark
ness was to brooded over the day—but it did not
Retirement was salutary for prayer. This { eveg | evening } attended
Mr H‑‑‑’s prayer concert.
Rich views of prayer.
But unusual sensibility to waste & desolate.

5 Another
{ morneg | morning } blasted by ennui— Oh day of privation & prayer.
God most holy hear prayer. Sinned by attention to
trifles.

7 { M. | Morning } In our contempt of character for
their wants, whom do we dare accuse? Do
we hate—oh it is the work of God, those
for whom Jesus died—those whom he fashioned.
Yet in a { wrld | world } of sin & selfishness & deformity
how tempted to disgust & irritability.

11. I trembleHoughton: page 453;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 32
at my health— Oh for all I can do. I never eat
without fear that I shall eat too much, when {Handwritten addition: or} end of handwritten addition
that I shall suffer from faintness. Life how
contemptible. There have been times &
years when I shunned means, external, of
good feelings—when I { tho’t | thought } the very essence
of virtue consisted in resisting ill propensities in
stead of lulling them. I have been foiled so often
now I am glad to quiet an irritible tempre
with a novel when getting dinner.
Ah me
I cry for mercy pardon salvation. The sermon I
heard { sab. | sabbath } was pressing the importance of feeling
the present to be the best situation—precisely
the one for us. Now when we compare ouselves
with other times & find there are tempta
tions { w’h | which } do not press in other places it seems
a duty to fly from there. A duty to ask for delive
ance from temptation. Oh I am for flying—lay
ing at feet of { mery | mercy } crying unclean—shouting
grace grace— But oh preserve me from
illusive views of morality its nature—that
of religion!

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 37), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 23 July 1812-November 1813. Boston and Concord, Massachusetts; and Waterford, Maine. Originally fourteen MS sheets, eight of which have been almost entirely excised and rendered as vertical fragments on which little discernible text is extant, and one of which has been excised such that only a third of the top portion of the page remains.

The page order of this once bound Almanack can no longer be determined beyond a reasonable speculation. The editors have therefore ordered these pages based on several factors, including a review of the physical condition of the manuscript leaves, evident dates, and MME’s discussion of historical and biographical incidents. The several pages of vertical fragments in this Almanack have been placed as follows: Those leaves contiguous to the verso or recto of a manuscript leaf are presented in the page order necessitated by this material connection. The remaining eight fragment pages are placed at the end. Moreover, on these partial pages, the editors do not offer multiple options for unclear text but report the single, most likely reading. This Almanack reflects MME’s reading of John Foxe’s Lives of the Martyrs and Edward Taylor’s Rule and Exercises of Holy Living. She also discusses the writings of moral philosopher Joseph Butler; and she enjoys a new biography of Martin Luther, whom she reveres for his courage and faith. MME’s attention at this turbulent political time is drawn to multiple scenes—from the local, where she notes the public execution of two criminals in Boston; to the national, as the continued war of 1812 raises fears for a potential military invasion of the city and many residents prepare to flee; to the global, as she laments Napoleon’s recent invasion of Russia. This Almanack also presents the constant flux of MME’s emotional state at this time. She characterizes “the winter with my soul” and worries that her improved spirits may “blind my mental vision from the ‘nakedness’ of my soul.” Three summer months in 1812 are cast as a “dark sad dream, with the fewest gleams of light ever held”; later that year, MME postulates that she “never remember[ed] more gloom on every thing” and derives “no pleasure” from friends or lectures.

Houghton: page 458b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
excised
months excised
Sheet of excised
they ligexcised
astoni
excised
of them—have no ideas—perceptions—dull obstuse—
Oh are these the elements which man uses as instu
ments of man’s distruction—what a sublime harmony—
the light & air mingle—illumine & kiss the waters
—waft the the verdant mantle which inrobes the
earth earth—how unlike the inhabitant (human) of this citi
dal? Ah how I loathe my turtle shelll at moments when
I peep out & find the world in arms—the world of theology,
science & litirature in arms—but oh better than to min
gle & { loose | lose } one ray of pure sympathy—humble piety

23. A day
of publick fast { acct | account } of war.
I pray for others—myself have nothing
to { loose | lose }—oh the—grave— I cant well lose one. { sab. | sabbath }

26. I’ve seen
the beauties of nature— I’ve gazed—but incapable of feeling—{ wd | would }
I had this mean palpitation when the least accident happens
{ thro’ | through } my inattention. No quietness fires & fills me— Last mon
day after working I walked with Abby F. to Mr Barret’s. Mori
momento.

26. { N. | Noon } What overwhelming beauty in nature. { Bro. | Brother } S here
Sentiments of love, friendship & grandeur beam from them.

Boston
Sep. 26. { sab. | sabbath } eve. Been absent a long three months— Seems more like a
dark sad dream, with the fewest gleams of light ever beheld. Never
was more { disd | disturbed | distressed | diseased } mentally morally worldly. But I could feel noon revive
my health & soul as heretofore. Today an unusual day of { py | piety }
& self dedication. Oh what resolutions! Self denial & silence & solitude
oh it is sweet to live alone with God. God almighty assist me
to perceive somthing of Thee—sinned this very day— Shun. idle { thots | thoughts }

Houghton: page 458;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 33

excised
excised
excised it brings hi
excised& find
excised thee pro
excisedI do not
excised respect.
Mr Holly preached—affected metaphors
& paradoxes—had heard those far fetched flights of his
before. A reverie has followed me all day.

28. Day of { stuggle | struggle }
nothing done— Am I well?— no life, { tho | though } I eat & sleep & walk. Oh
were it { optinonal | optional }, I’d give up the game of life & own beat—de
feated in all—once conjectured I was pursuing knowledge—
moral perfection—dared to think of greatness of mind—was
ignorant of the meaning of poverty & ignorance & destitution. Ah
sweet illusions of bouyant spirits. But now now is the time
for faith, patience & courage—for oh to be bourne along in
apathy without room for activity. Br. D. called &—I went to
Mr. T. Haskin’s.

29. Walked to Cambridge—not an idea of the soul—bitter regret at
self.

30 Sad gloom. Mr Putnam teaed with me { bro’t | brought } a letter from sister S. full of
gratitude for O. Yesterday I { tho’t | thought } how unfit it was to seek for pleasuable
emotions— Oh how ill deserving them! Let it suffice to notch another
mark on the day book of my prison.

Oct 1. In anguish—mind is most
certainly weakened. Oh what was it 15 years since—even 7. If it
is { true | truer } that I am humbler it may be only that I find none
to dispise—myself appopriates all disgust.. Oh, here is a field for
admiration of the plan of redemption! { Wd | Would } to God I might believe
adore & rejoice. What a sermon by Chan. this afternoon—conclud
ing his history of Christ’s sufferings. Father into thy hands I com
mend my spirit and give up the { gh. | ghost } .
Oh how transporting was
the idea of death! How diid every worldly motive die away. How un
worthy indeed of such a Saviour—what crimes of selfishness pride
& levity! Oh had this day been what it should in solemnity
in silence in dress, how composed this hour at { Chh. | Church }

2 Another

Houghton: page 456b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

excised
meaexcised
work excised
thereexcised
pity excised
bug excised
open excised
dispexcised
{ surty | surety } excised
the excised
the excised
—exeexcised
coziexcised
ness seexcised
down. excised
of veexcised
a day excised
every excised
ill of—excised
thexcised

Houghton: page 456;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

excised
excisedW.—
excisedage
excisedd
excised [d]ull
excisedcons.
excised y ho-
exciseds from
excisede. But
excisedobject-
excisedt
excisedt
excisedhots
excisedd
excised I
excised I
excised to

Houghton: page 459b;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

diordeexcised
when excised
now excised
of whaexcised
will & excised
then excised
miserexcised
tains excised
ardent excised
be cexcised
Sleep excised
—not excised
thanexcised
Oh excised
Remexcised
rideexcised
didnexcised
be the excised
ostentaexcised
oh excised
with excised
in miexcised
my pexcised
Oh it excised
{ thro’ | through } decexcised
my deexcised
first peexcised
what a excised
& self lexcised
but obsexcised
She tol[d] excised
God wexcised
trust excised
blessinexcised
—insisexcised
eternal excised
faith, sexcised
liberatexcised
respect excised
Thee excised
this fear excised
Oh excised

Houghton: page 459;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

excised wish
excisedquil
excisednce I
excised have
excisedown
excised eter-
excised some
excisedrect.
excised &
excisedh
excisedtain
excisedd
excised with,
excisedholy
excisedher-
exciseding
excisedts
excised it
excised Oh
excised of
excisedl thier
excisedtract
excised { wd | would }
excisedwer—
excisedhey
excisedtance—
excisedn rea-
excisedler
excisedised
excised race
excisedel. Oh
excised God on
excisedtreaty
excisedbing
excised & mise
excisedd days
excised { tho’t | thought } of
excisedt to { Gd | God }

Houghton: page 460b;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 33

{Handwritten addition: 570} end of handwritten addition
part to go out.” If there is no God—and these things exist with
out Him, oh I can fear nor hope for nothing, sooner death the
better. Yet apart from these fine resolves there is a “quantum” of
fear in every one’s frame { w’h | which } will be operated on, if not by one
thing, another—whether phisical or mental I know not— Nervous,
probably, that misterious fluid looses it’s elasticity—becomes the
the medium of cold, & abject humours—dark & dreary images.
But it is not age { w’h | which } quenches this light of the soul—gives the shorn
fancy to night
; but bad humours; those of the stomach, { w’h | which }
Paley describes as the seat of happiness.
This { after. | afternoon } at { B. St. | Brattle Street } Mr H.
preached a solemn sermon of said that one impure angry prophane
word one licentious unjust act effaced the impressions of many years.

{ No. | November } 1. { sab | sabbath } { M. | Morning } Sins of other years
return, for these, for these my { Seaveour | Saviour } died. Oh did He die for me? Then why
I am a poor & naked & blind & miserable. It cannot be too much to ask to
go & be with him—so low & pollutted—ca’nt deserve be capable of glory it
seems— Oh merit I renounce thy name

Eve. Usefull—giving, causing
pleasure to others—inexpresible pleasure—but oh a pure & sanictified
heart

2. Seen friends that is relations &c &c united—called at Judge Parkers
heard { tow | two } sermons of Mr C‑‑‑s the most affecting sublime & practiical I everheard

But a day of the stillest gloom & nothingness— Oh never surely did creature
so little exist.

5 { M. | Morning } Yesterday & day before unwell, saw & fashionable peo
ple much amused by the mere fashionist—was flattered by Miss
Cabot’s
call & her flattery— I flattered too in return, mori me
mento
of human life! I see her no more. Today life & animal
spirits return—they will but blind my mental vision from the
“nakedness” of my soul. But to console me I’ve only to recall the
darkness & ill & meanness of poor abject spirits. P[oe]try! oh it’s
charms can be no more to me than the flowrs { w’h | which } may
grow on my grave. Will there be a hand to plant one sod?
Nature itself may spare me a bud plant of her own, may
give it to the rude winds to scatter, & foster it with
the hoary tempest—for nature I’ve loved—reverenced—
she has lifted my soul to her Creator—{ tho | though } ignorant of her
powers, honour & secrets, yet have ever felt her charms.
“The glory of God is the end of virtue in a { xian | christian } & the glory of the
heathen Virtuous is the end of the latter.”
How infinitely wide
the ends, how infinitely grand the first!

7 { sab | sabbath } eve. Attended Houghton: page 460;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
ed Mr. Hunt’s { com. | community } &c—when he prayed that we might have
deep & increasing views of religion &c I could not hope— I do know
that I shall in the come { cer. | certainly } fall into pride, levity selfishness as I do
continually—that others do who believe in the constant influence of
the spirit. Yes the most eminent saint, I know, told me she resolved
not to go out on that account. But she never betrays her Master
as I do.
Oh how low & vile— Yet more, I had much to do for others Oh
my God { sd | should } I not forget all but Thee— I for self { wd | would } out— I am
reading the lives of Martyrs How sublime their faith! Yet the supr
stition is painfull along with the account. Satan makes use
of it, if he operates at all to tarnish the { chh | church } in its best
days. Hideous forms of it’s persecuting spirits have often
defiled the it’s { vey | very } bosom of the { Chh | Church } But the deadly spawn of
infidelity was gendered in Hell and sheds misery on the
world without one beam of hope to soothe even the ima
Janation.

10. Today Attended Tildens funeral— Today Mrs C‑‑‑ came
to board—a little life & health. Yesterday most stupid. No senti
ment of God.

11 Attended Mrs. H‑‑‑s funeral—tead with Mrs Leeerred by vainity pride
& timidity—yet was consious of life—it is well to know that there is life.


12. Frigid sort of day. Putnam tead here.

13. Oh I hate to eat, for I per
form—nothing—suffer nor enjoy nor feel nothing for piety, truth sym
pathy. Yet it is mean to grudge myself the foood { w’h | which } God prepares
—for it is He supports Angels. But I am all animal—all
eat & sleep.

15 { sab. | sabbath } { M. | Morning } Yesterday Day of full { appt | appointment } no soul—oh it is winter with
my soul—no flower of hope visits it—if it comes it is blighted
—the soil cold & barren nourishes it no more. It is best. I am not
capable of greatness glory—fail incessantly. Oh I will rejoice
only in the gifts of love. Could I receive something—some gift
of love for immediate use—oh it { wd | would } be a land mark to encourge
me to { purue | pursue } the dreary journy voayge—oh a light house
of hope for the future. But God is my wittness, I prefer a solem
pure & holy path { howver | however } same, to those of danger, { hower | however }
adorned with beacons of event & granduer.

16. Health glows
my mind struggles in it’s irons, heart {Handwritten addition: heat} end of handwritten addition palpitates, eye balls stare
busy, agitated, activity oh precious gift when circumstances & edu

Houghton: page 461b;    Editors: page 9;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


educexcised
puexcised
the excised
emexcised
no excised
giexcised
God excised
auexcised
of uexcised
cusexcised
neeexcised
thaexcised
soliexcised
entiexcised
dyexcised
is texcised
in excised
heard excised
chairexcised
youthexcised
Authoexcised
soothes excised
one day excised
my trexcised
brightn excised
adopted excised
a solecism excised
God—deeexcised
elementexcised
life is mexcised
action but is excised
God! Nexcised
Why—eexcised

Houghton: page 461;    Editors: page 10;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

excisedtity
excisedt of
excisede—
excisedbe
excisedt
excisedt—
excisedut
excisedd tears
excisedt
excised { sab. | sabbath }
excisedes
excisednian
excised— A
excisedts
excisedr.
excised old
excisedt the
excisednds at
excised

8 { M. | Morning } The
excised the re-
excisedn—for
exciseder on
excisedent nor
excised This day
excised seen for
excisedily. Oh
excised
The quexcised
is the excised
& a pacexcised
vary a
excised

Houghton: page 462b;    Editors: page 11;    part of Tolman’s folder 33

these shawdows— I clasp them—but a little are {Handwritten addition: and} end of handwritten addition they are
gone. Yet I { rejuice | rejoice } in feeling for others—in this { perfidy’s | perfidies }
especally, it was for her sake at that time. Oh were she all
I need, how { wd | would } life brighten. But I, sick of the recurence of the
same dull ideas look forward with { deire | desire }, only to death. Oh there are
characters who possess virtues & qualities never known till in the
world of knowlegde & glory. They are jewels in the moral world
of the highest order— Oh if Angels could envy, here { wd | would } be
temptation. Ah I am not indeed of that discription. How much
better (descipicable as that best is) than I am, do I appear.


Dec. 2. Why { sd | should } I grudge myself my food & clothes & sleep—the certainty
of death is a charter from every fear—live while we live—tomor
rrow we may be forever free from the grossness of a putrid carcase.
Tomorrow and far from pecking at some straggling fact, the
books of eternal wisdom may be in my sight.— { Instiad | Instead } of loath
ing a feeble & distracted mind { w’h | which } often wanders after some { glimsp | glimpse }
of truth, { w’h | which } one day has obliterated, the presence of God will
be felt
, and truth will forever be the law of my soul. Now
it is doubtfull whether the seeds of knowledge are peserved
in a soil congenial, & { w’h | which } will reproduce them, or whether the[y]
only will rot in an exanimate soul, or be scattered by the
delirum of hopes & { desies | desires } to no purpose?

Noon. The highest
point of perfection a creature can touch in either world is to lead so
holy a life as to bring good to others without a visible influence
And that of wisdom in this world to shrink from the fame
of piety—but it is the very nature of piety to feel its own misery
and tremble at hypocrisy. Oh the veery moment of it’s fame
seems to me the moment of it’s soil.. A vain man is nak
ed & hungry
& thirsty in the most complete sense—and every
body may administer to his wants.
Blessed be God for the
meager events of my life and the feebleness of my exertions for
I am but a nest of pride & vanity.

Houghton: page 462;    Editors: page 12;    part of Tolman’s folder 33

10. Oh a spectator of the holy & exalted, and my soul { wd | would }
mingle with God in the profoundest resignation & joy that
a it had seemed good. It is well to be ware of the delu
sion of feelings—what are called frames— And in every
ssubject there may be delusion. In the speculations of the most
prolific brain on the deepest, are often errors of immense
size, obvious to the { plainst | plainest } sense— In every science, in every
department of philosophy, save experimental (poor sensible
manual experiment) there has been found deceptions
& errors from the wildest to the most { desipacable | despicable } kind.
Then where is certainty and what are its surest li
mits? Why not in feeling? We all know { whither | whether } we
are at ease, whether suffering the nameless pangs of
restlessness, ill humour and dreaded apathy, or these {Handwritten addition: tasting} end of handwritten addition
the indiscrible joys of sympathy, benvolence & activity.
Here is experiment in the very essence of the soul &
surerr than those of matter—for some say, there is
no body. In consciousness there can be no delusion, even
where no body nor & spirit in the world. And when concsious
of motions {Handwritten addition: the} end of handwritten addition perfections of God, without { raticiconation | ratiocination }, the joy
is certain & { infablible | infallible }—so of every other sentiment which
inraptures & ennobles. If Butler meant these feelings,
when he said somthing (I almost forget) about weaken
ing the priciples of action, then I wont believe him,
{ tho’ | though } I seldom pass a week without trembling at his
verdict—without desiring to do, to act, without the aid of
feeling. And mayhap the purest virtue is independent. But of Houghton: page 463b;    Editors: page 13;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
what nature is vertue without consciousness of it? Does the
Martyr, the Reformer the Missionary act without feeling
a stronge { persusion | persuasion } of the truth for { w’h | which } he suffers. Does
he go { thro’ | through } incalculable sufferings guided only the cool dedu
tions of reason & the connection of truth? Probably But
ler
meant the proscription of feelings { w’h | which } only swims in the
fancy—never warm the affections nor subdue the passions


10 { M. | Morning } Which is best for hereaftur, to reflect on pangs of discon
tent & agonies of desire after { immprovemt | improvement }, or a life of quiet
serene virtuous stupidity.? Oh let me suffer, but let me
pant after a new heart—let me dispise my life—long that
light might break on {Handwritten addition: in} end of handwritten addition it’s prison. { Tday | Today } in this Town are to be
executed { tow | two } criminals.
Oh that I could see thier prison and be
hold thier last moments. God in mercy sanctify this event to
the multitude. On the other hand ho[w] glorious &
grand and awfull is the fate of Russia! A
people { convicted | commuted } for their rights & warring with
the eneymy of the world!
God of nations behold
them and give the victory to thy glory! Would
to the Being who possesses all existence and holds
all it’s relations in his hand I could imbibe a larger
view of his operations.

13 { sab | sabbath } eve. A humble penitent day I
carelessly misrepresennted. May this dark day warn me. I felt
glad I was so little, so obscur that I might corrupt no one as I
{ sd | should } in case of prosperity been still more boisterous. The { eveg | evening } of the
10 guilty of vanity & egotism with the F‑‑‑s. The 11th teaed with Dr G.
& party at Mr. T. H.s felt devout & { pyfull | pietyfull } &c alone—conversed with
his Reverence—think him not much that way. { Recd | Received } a
100 # for the 1t time altogather Yesterday shopped.
Oh most gloomy


14 Eve. More sick of myself when elated by animal spirits, especially
if those arise from socity than when drooping undir illest incidents
I see the whole extent of my weakness.

15 { M. | Morning } Nothing less than divine in
stinct can push that mortal forward to whom life is { unfrutfull | unfruitfull }
of pleasur to himself & profit to Houghton: page 463;    Editors: page 14;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
others—when the sight of his own carcase “unearthed” gives him
weariness—when his invincible weaknesses sap the richest of all
enjoyments—solitary commerce with God.

16 { M. | Morning } When no great object
gives reality, or appears to give it to the farce of human
life the means of supporting existence are much too dear.
And when we take into view religion itself, { w’h | which } at more
changes the whole face of the univerce, how often are
we obliged to labour without the delighfull conviction
that the means we are using tend to the end or have
the least reference to it. This is cold, sceptical & not
true—but if moments of { dist | disappointment } assail the least, well
may years be mine.

19 sat eve. Why antisipate tomorrow? Dark
ness & apathy will [n]ot some time assail tomorrow.? If humility & { dist | disappointment }
were the same then I might feel the { appoach | approach } of all I need.

21. Eve
Teaed at Father H‑‑‑’s—most bustling day—injured Wm s feelings from selfish
ness. Verily I am guilty in all.

29 Eve. The next morning I was taken ill
of a heavy cold & { past | passed } 2 sad days in bed—looked eagerly for a fever
& all it’s intersting consequences—but none came & I droned thus
till tonight I am well. Ah my God forgive my ingratitude for
life—my { dissping | despising } my life—oh and for eternal commerce with
God!

30 I walked to Mrs. Johnsons to see Lydia. Fine weather—but sad & slow
were my spirits. Never remember more gloom on every thing.
It was always that the morrow promised somthing—but they cheat
me no longer. The lecture—the friend of tomorrow will give
me no pleasur & leave me all my weakness— At tea tonight
I was quite active—fye fye

31. I close a year with other emotions { yh | than }
heretofore. Then at Malden—at { Wd | Waterford } how solemn how full of hopes
The remembrance of the departing year was then tender—it was like
parting with a friend whose socity had been highly interesting; at
times painfull, & the memory severe, but whom I was to
meet again with unmixed delight in other scenes. Now the
idea of the last year is rather like a dream—its {Handwritten addition: a} end of handwritten addition portrait
of some dull unfeatured thing, than a wakefull realHoughton: page 464b;    Editors: page 15;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
reality. Ah see what it is to outlive the hope of improv
ment—of ascent. The very memory of these hopes now prove
sometimes painfull—for they were illusive. Oh { swet | sweet } illusions
when the seare, wan form of my poor Aunt, and my penny
saving Uncle seemed to me no hindrances, but helps to
mount—when hurrying away the table, the hours flew
too fast. Where is now her fled spirit—where the years I
{ past | passed } in the hope of knowledge—the brighter hope of God!
I cannot renew the race. God Almighty I sit down—be it
thine—oh be it thine from the fullness of grace, from
the infinity of thy knowlege, power & goodness to bless me.
Oh antedate thy gifts of eternal life—oh give me a solemn hum
ble temper. I have been reading or rather poring over
Luther’s life. What an eternal wittness of the agency of God
with that of man! His sorrows misgivings & concessions
to Rome discover the natural workings of man. His
daring courage, his miraculous faith (without the show
of miricle) bespeake the agency of God without a doubt.
How much richer a gift, how much more adapted to the
condition of man was the reformation by apparent (and in
some reality) by human methods than by miricle! The for
mation of Luther’s mind was ordained by God as a means of
it, yet how many causes natural & coporeal were in the
chain!

Jan. 1. 1813. I did feel at midnight. Long life might pass
with abstracted solemn emotions, unwearied. I bless God for the
numbers who enter on this year with hopes & pursuits
high as glory—pursuits for the { Chh | Church }—for others—for the
publick—instruments by which God himself turns over the
affairs of the world. If deep retirrment cannot be the
{ xian’s | christian’s } lot, happy the man who loses himself for others inHoughton: page 464;    Editors: page 16;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
stations of high responsibility. But as human nature is what
it is, most rich is the path of deep obscurity and exertions
for others in the depths of darkness. Oh rapture of faith—it is
then fruition, & the Subject of such grace has far less rea
son to doubt of the influence of God, than the fervid Re
former, who is often left to wander from truth, for rea
sons of infinite wisdom. But it is persumption for me, who
never willingly (at least these some years) gone all
lenghts for others, to talk about high born destinies.
Oh I never shall go far. Some hidden cause in the
chain of which connects Heaven with earth forbids beings
cast in my mould to rise. Yet I see at the same time my guilt
with my weakness. And this is the great secret which
can here never be unravelled—the endless web of Provi
dence will display it in full perfection.

2. sat. eve. { Appt. | Appointment } strong
{ py | piety } & some pleasure in labours. Yesterday was { past | passed } in the above { contems | contemplations }
in instruction to the stronge care of sick—{ w’h | which } ended in fervid attendance in lecture
for foriegn mission— Yet no sattisfaction—imperfect weak in all. At
{ Chh | Church } nerves weak—
distressed about fire at home & terrified at the
{ appehenion | apprehension } { yt | that } I had injurid Ann by misjudging one hour in her
repose.
Oh little totty fears. What slavery equal to this. Is it not
more { desiable | desirable } to bear up against great ills than to suffer ideal ones?
Oh how { wd | would } some grand pursuit consume this smoke & chaff. Yet how
grand is my object—nothing less to stand complete & perfect—to realise
somthing of the Being & attributes & { gov. | government } of God!
I feel sure that no
Angel can more desire this—then again I’m uncertain how
whether this desire arrises only from situation—tremble at
the guilt I have at the bottom of heart. Oh God most holy, I
come to Thee as a poor condemned unworthy creature—thy infinity
thy power, thy faithfullness are engaged for the poor & helpless. Dost
Thou refuse to save me— I know thy character—I will { asirbe | ascribe }
righteousness to Thee ,
But Thou art the God of the bible and
canst cast me off. My soul faintith for thy salvation!

3 { sab. | sabbath } { M. | Morning } Houghton: page 457b;    Editors: page 17;    part of Tolman’s folder 33
When crushed with little crimes this morning I recurred to that holy
sensibility with { w’h | which } I am born to enter into the more than
nights of the servant & the beggar.
Oh here let me praise
God without an intervening misery—here I must own that—
I perceive his elating love to me. Oh gift never never
estimated till the worth of love is realised in eternity. It
may console me when I turn abhorrent from a fastidious &
temper, so open to disgusts & severity. God of love let me re
cieve a longer measur of charity—more extensive at thy
toll excised
of excised
I excised
weexcised
forexcised
excised
in excised
alexcised
thexcised

Houghton: page 457;    Editors: page 18;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

hope for new life— Yesterday a day of { appt | appointment } with some
zeal. Saw Taylors “holy living” for the first time. Do ex
pect to profit by it.
Am surprised to find how peevish I grow
Bless God my eyes are open. Oh wearied apathy how long for
ever will God forget me?
Went today with L. P. to hear Mr Ch.


Feb. 1. Feel holy purposes— Oh God whatever others do—do Thou for me
all for me. Make me gentle, patient charitable—covering the fail
ings of others—with a deep sense of my own sins and our
awfull accountability. Oh if they are deficient how dreadfull
excisedtr-
excisedo

Houghton: page 465b;    Editors: page 19;    part of Tolman’s folder 33

excised
[I] am calm & hopefull. I know God will support me on
the tedious irksome road—be with me in labour & pover
ty & commune with me in ignorance & destitution. I
appeal to Him if I do not love him better than all the
pleasurs I have an idea of. Oh what but His agency car
ries me on—without hope object or plan but a sole desire
to fill with all the little power { I have | & force } the remaining days
of life with the same little labours { w’h | which } have heretofore marked
my prayeres

23 Yes He cheered the road howevr cold & dis
greable the curcumstances it was cheerd— And how still how
solemn yet sublimed this eve. after a day of crying babes—
waking
perplexity—how rich the tranquility. How strange too, that
after { tow | two } years of much in every veiw to be lamented—some
what to wonder at—more to loathe—defeated { pusuit | pursuit } of know
ledge &c now to return to labour—to { secnes | scenes } of { caree | care } instaed
of ease & reading & sentiment & hope— Ah rich is the pro
vision of God. My sister is most gloomily situated—how little the
consqunces only in a moral veiw—how immense. God of
{ mery | mercy } what mayst Thou not do for me? How different from
the past—a soul, Just touching on this world for a day
how lightly { sd | should } it touch— And most lightly have I dwelt— I’ve
parted with freinds to the grave— I came away from three
or four who do feel { intereted | interested }—but no bright streak re
mains to gild my lonely horison—
Oh a richer glory
than freindship ever offered her warmest votary I seek
Much deleted have I suffered from socitey, little as I’ve seen,
“Oh the dark days the years around” { Deer | Dear } was the smile of
Lydea—the modest learned Sarah—the Miss Pains not always
uninteresting— And Mr McKeen seldom failed highly to inter
est— White too! But dearer is the converse of the
unstained soul.

24 { Past | Passed } the day in ease at Mr Ripley’s— Oh how
low

Houghton: page 465;    Editors: page 20;    part of Tolman’s folder 33

excised
Burnt


25 “Another day is done” of activity so intense that every nerve
throbs. yet the gloom of these little painfull labours could not be shook
off— Nor is it need.— God I rejoice in— If he keeps us low He
has good reasons. His better children live largely. Were
sin felt as it { sd | should } be, sorrows { wd | would } lose their weight. Oh how
many sins { wd | would } not be, were the heart lower— Again, how much
of [G]o[d] { wd | would } be unseen were things done for others sake. This
Day I know I have lessened the sum of human labour & pain. This is saying
much—proof of my famine of influence.

26. Active, but torpid mind. { Wd | Would }
I could repent

27. Day { app | appointment } & labour & care & weakness— Yet this eve
oh inexpresible rich. Seek alone in { py | piety } for ideas of a sepera
te state—relations to Christ—endless duration. Oh pursuits
{ wrthy | worthy } of a soul immortal.

28. { sab | sabbath } { M. | Morning } Taste all I ever did or, perhaps,
ever can of delight in God— Oh if He is all I beleive, how
enrapturing existence—hastening to be { incoporated | incorporated } into His
essence, if so we dare to speake. These prison walls will
open & all the soul to love & sympathy. The labours
or the air of {Handwritten addition: r} end of handwritten addition God himself I { wd | would } hope if I dared, give
my mortal spirits to “cast thier load.”

March. 1, Whether so
smoothe a tranquility was the effect of smale vision or large
is questionable. Yet wondered in vain { tho’ts | thoughts }.

2. 3 O’k After Noon
How delightfull the scenery— And all this snow, yet the air not chillid
And how much { dearr | dearer } the scenery { w’h | which } opens on the soul in eternity
This fatigue these employments bouy up rather than depress the
spirits. Nothing to fear—the past { tho’ | though } a dark blank or sullied with
follies at best, it seems, yet I hurry away from by { eviry | every } ardent
moment. God is present— God is past— God is future— What
few flowers I saw sweeten benevolence in retrospection and
the place I’ve left—my family—my Country my { kind | kindred }
Share my prayers and wishes. And dear Charles my kin

Houghton: page 454b;    Editors: page 21;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


the excised
moexcised
sinexcised


8 cexcised
deaexcised
huexcised
beexcised
& wexcised
popexcised
ritexcised
bouexcised
muexcised
emotexcised
caseexcised
a kexcised
presexcised
feeliexcised
feeliexcised
of thexcised
notexcised
greaexcised
famiexcised
endexcised
sense excised
intereexcised
thesexcised


10. { M. | Morning } Yeexcised
mine excised
sole insexcised
disorder[ed] excised
I ever toexcised
yet {Handwritten addition: &} end of handwritten addition I appexcised
verse excised

Houghton: page 454;    Editors: page 22;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


excisedas—
excisedyer-
excisedee
excisednot
excisedd it’s)
excisedt—
excisedne
excised gain
excisedtive
excisedna—
excisedn—
excisedte
excisedd illegible
excisedtioned
excised cares
excised to
excisedl was
excisedyself
excisedide
excised [M]r White
excised irrita-
excisedt’s app.
excised a be-
excised how
excised I am on
excised a house
excised [p]ehaps
exciseder path
excised I adore

Houghton: page 455;    Editors: page 23;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


excisedcourse
excisedound
excisedcape
excisedave
excised [w]ith
excised & sepul-
excisedd in
excisedects
excisedd at
excised there
excisednge
exciseds at my
excisedt is { walth | wealth }
excised it
excised [t]hy
excised court
excisedvledge
excisedduce,
excisedce
excisedee
excisedt as
excisedus
excised of
excised your
excisedoted
excisedy
excisedhit-
excised a sort
excised [os]t of day
excisedt { Chh | Church } sat
excisedathed self
excised my poor
excised interest—
excised.

Eve.— OhHoughton: page 455b;    Editors: page 24;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

this day excised
the plan excised
at a neexcised
misery excised
imbitterexcised
Yesteda[y] excised
to be excised
ance pexcised
the old excised
act excised
of pros[p] excised
is the excised
the pexcised
genuinexcised
silencexcised
have excised
& aexcised
hear excised
the excised
& foexcised
tion excised
maexcised
busexcised


6 Thexcised
this ceexcised
{ evey | every } excised
breexcised
they excised
is fait[h] excised
stances of excised
Prayer sexcised
tions penexcised

Houghton: page 466;    Editors: page 25;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


excisedor
excisedly
excisede
excisede
excisedh
excised of
excisedy
excisedeed
excised livly
excised [l]ife
excised to
excisedift
excisedl
excisedne
excised [t]his
excised

Eve
excised the

Houghton: page 466b;    Editors: page 26;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


excised
& oexcised
on excised
thexcised
rexcised
wexcised
anexcised
wexcised
hiexcised
cerexcised
noexcised
theexcised
unexcised
in excised
No excised
It is excised
unkexcised
guilexcised

Houghton: page 467b;    Editors: page 27;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


excisedonexcised
what excised
where excised
hast to excised
courage excised
thee. Evexcised
ions— excised
love of fexcised
happinexcised
morrowexcised
lost—vexcised
only to Goexcised
did those excised
falshood to excised
next day excised
foe { wd | would } desirexcised
to give up lifexcised
future expeexcised
have paid excised
before I lefexcised

Houghton: page 467;    Editors: page 28;    part of Tolman’s folder nt


excised { w’hh | which }
excisederday
excised Be-
excisedld I go
excised by
excisedly tarry
excised & late
excised I must
excisedith guilt
excisedth none
excised room for
excised the joys
excisedur almost
excised { thro’ | through }
excised who talk
excisedmajanation
excisedt disorders

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 38), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 1813. Boston, Massachusetts, and/or Waterford, Maine. One undamaged MS sheet.

This brief Almanack is undated, but based on the type of paper used and the style of MME’s hand, the editors speculate that it was written some time in 1813. The Almanack opens with an extended discussion of the monuments—“from the humblest Pagado to the Loftist [Loftiest] Mosaleum”—that memorialize science and the arts, with “a momument of his religion” then becoming what the “Soul of man” should bestow to fellow pilgrims. She advocates that “every christian pen,” regardless of one’s position in the church hierarchy or in the congregation, should leave behind a valuable record, “an Ark of Safty,” of her religious journey for subsequent “Sojourner[s]” and “to warn succeeding Passengers of the dangers of the Voayge” “on the ocean of life.” These and other sentiments in this Almanack suggest that MME may be self-consciously justifying her reasons for writing and for doing so prolifically. Research on the annotations for this Almanack is ongoing; the editors speculate that MME could be commenting on a recent sermon delivered at the dedication of a new church or a new minister in her area.

Houghton: page 468b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 34
If we should inquire, from look into { evey | every } tempel from
a {Handwritten addition: the} end of handwritten addition humblest Pagado to the Lofty {Handwritten addition: { Loftist | Loftiest } } end of handwritten addition Mosaleum and its founda
tion we shall find some strong characteristics which mark
a {Handwritten addition: the} end of handwritten addition priciples of it’s institution and { piont | point } to a Founder in
characters so { ligible | legible } that they do withstand the all destroying
hand of time mouldering hand of time. Hence we {Handwritten addition: the} end of handwritten addition va
lue of antiquity, and the indistructible nature of { fxied | fixed }
& permanent and strongly, at least, clearly defined princi
ples whether in arts or sciences, and indispensably so from
the nature of things in the reigeion what constitues the
sentiments of the soul and the priniple of action—
Above all and connected therewith would the Soul of
man leave behind him a momument of his religion
of his connection with the Supreme Cause of all things
of {Handwritten addition: This} end of handwritten addition alone of all his { possisions | possessions } he can carry with
him into another state and of this surely he would
leave some memorial more durable than the { mounments | monuments }
of science which with the sceince { w’h | which } bestowed them
will pass away with the fashion of the earth and
give way to a new and better order of N {Handwritten addition: n} end of handwritten additionature &
art. But if his sentiments which stamped his soul for
immortality were the result or effect of a religion reveal
ed from God by and acknowledged to be reveald in a
way the most extraordinary at which Angels themselves
wonder, it {Handwritten addition: is} end of handwritten addition it not reasonable to wish to leave some
erect some edifice to its peculiar to its character and il
lustrative of it’s design. If the { untutured | untutored } Indian throws a
stone to mark to future travellers the ravages of the
Tygress
, would not the Redeemed Believer wish that
every every christian pen should give some signal
to the thotless Sojourner that there are dangers to be
avoided and {Handwritten addition: on} end of handwritten addition the ocean of life and that there has
been prepared an Ark of Safty to secur a safe & gloriou Houghton: page 468;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 34
arrival in the Haven of a better world. If one opportunty
seems better than another to make lasting impessions
it is at the dedication of a place of religious worship.
The Inquirer of Should an Inquirer ignorant of chistianty
read this sermon would the not the question be made
to be perplexed to know why so noble find some hints
of a being and of his dying for us. Would he not wish
to know somthing of the character of this being and
be still more perplexed to know what he should die
for us. Would he find the least clue to this in
quiry? Would he not rather find that the people
for whom this costly { Bulding | Building } was erected were possesed
of natures again {Handwritten addition: which} end of handwritten addition were opposed to sin? And that
sin was a kind of phantom which abstract being { ap— | apparently }
without a “local habitation.” He would imajane that
this tempel was sacred to notwithstanding the title
of the sermon, and a few inexplicable touches of elo
quence, sacred to Reason and some of it’s exclusive
admirers. and Advocates for human perfictiblity. As
we are passing down the current of time we would fain
{ thrw | throw } out a signal to warn succeeding Passengers of the dan
gers of the Voayge. Even the rude Indian adds his mite to
the rocky beacon which marks the prey of the Tygre.

A religion without a Founder, a Priest, an { alter | altar }, and sacrifice may
interest some rarely constructed minds, to whom the Universe
is temple and the homage of nature are rites, but
to the Poor, the multitude, the weeping Penitent, the
agonising Malefactor, the Prisoner on whom nature sheds
no genial ray, the are left to darkness and guilt.
If christianity is perfect—is full in all its influence if it
has done all—if all is known of its influence

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 39), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 28 September-9 October 1813. Waterford, Maine. One undamaged MS sheet, which has been folded three times, vertically and horizontally, to form a small parcel.

This brief Almanack begins and ends in mid-sentence, with quite poetic language throughout, in addition to frequent allusions to literary works, including a poem by Felicia Hemans. MME’s five year-old nephew, Charles Chauncy Emerson, has been staying with her in Maine for the past several months. MME notes his departure in early October; although she has enjoyed his visit and his “devotedness to me,” she expresses relief to be able to return to her “devotions” and to be “freer—disentangled.” She forecasts the oncoming “bleak & barren winter” and notes “the dreary aspect of nature,” notwithstanding that “each decaying vegetable” and “sombre cloud” are also her “companion[s].”

Houghton: page 469b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 36
a 678
to His will and elections without the { midium | medium } of external
deeds. These are indispensable when practicable—but
what mixed motives—at least, what mixed { tho’ts | thoughts }—what ex
ultations, not so pure as adoration & prayers of charity.


28. Devotional tranquility like the { wenge | wing } of Heaven { persides | presides } over
these days. I feel { unwothy | unworthy } to sit at the table of of God’s favored
honored children— I ask for the crumbs—spirit of contrition
& meekness.
Bless Him more for gratitude for {Handwritten addition: on} end of handwritten addition their account
than for any of thy gifts. I am uncertain whether I go to B.— but
time & place make so little change that it interests not. Sweet
{ wd | would } be the prospect of keeping chamber in health—but I’ll
ease the burdens of others if possible—feel sure the bleak &
barren winter will carry me on my Journey, however feebly.


29. Nothing can exceed the dreary aspect of nature—but every
leaf { w’h | which } wriths in the blast has a charm—each decaying vega
ble—every sombre cloud is my companion—like them borne
down the tide of time by the great laws of nature { w’h | which } are but
the varied will of God, richly resigned to that will in whatever
form it carries me x x forward to the grand { exclarrisement | éclaircissement }. Oh
blessed state of conscousness—umemployed almost—but like
the seperate spirits dilivered from passions & wants. Fancy
is quiet—terrestrial cobwebs are brushed—and then
soul seems to inhale a glimsp of the pure sky of truth
—when the flowers of imajanation are writ into the
woof of life and render lovelier the x { xeampel | example } of x christaity
—but now they are but tricking a lifeless form. Old
age is but like a rotten vegetable—better be removed
and anon blush in the rose and { emblam | embalm } the air with
the fragrances of the lilly

4 So narrow is the sphere of my
existence that this morning is the most affecting I’ve known
I’ve parted with Charles the only being who is attached to my society
{ w’h | which } His tears & reluctance were noticeable. I rejoice he is gone
Houghton: page 469;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 36
it is surely better for me—my devotions have been
long inturrupted—my mind weakned by too much indul
gince to him—he became hellish. How long have I cherishd
his affection for myself & with how much care—thinking
I might { thro’ | through } that medium more strongly impress his
mind with piety. I may have rendered him more affectionate
But all is questionable—but that in a few days he will
forget the pleasurs I procured him-–his devotedness to me
and the scenes which here delighted him. So passes all earth
born cares & affections. Oh I am freer—disentangled— Oh how
glad I did not go when every thing invited me—ah if there
be on this district one hole to cover me, let me not stir
till nessecary. And oh Thou Author of every pang { w’h | which } agitates
the heart—of every glowing affection— I have yielded my
ewe lamb
oh visit me with thy self—solemnise my
whole soul—occupy it only with those scenes { w’h | which } are eternal.


5 I walked 4 or 5 miles yesterday afternoon— Rich were the
machinery of clouds & air—the memory of my connection
with my boy was pleasant—for tenderly—too tenderly
had I watched his motions. Joy & gratitude awake with
the light—and one of the { mot | most } pleasant images which struck
my imajanation was that of my coffin—the finest veiws of
nature are accompanied with the solemn event of death.


Noon This tranquility, this pause as it { wre | were } in natuer, betokens
her dissolution—her resurrection. Ah grandeur of man thou
act not in Courts, in turmoils in wealth & external honor.

9 sat. { M. | Morning }
That every effect proceeds in a sense, from a first Cause is
the sentiment of nature—and begets resignation— But this soother
of human care is enraturingly displayed in the whole Sacred
Volume. Oh this day appt let me not taste too much of hope
& faith & fervor. A humbling contrite heart. This correts motivs

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 40), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written March–c. 20 August 1821. Hamilton, Boston, and Concord Massachusetts; Connecticut; and [Augusta, Maine]. 2 MS sheets, undamaged.

This fascicle represents an intriguing example of the materiality of MME’s Almanacks as well as the wide expanse of her commonplacing. The front and back pages are graphically rendered as “patchwork covers,” with blocks of text written diagonally in various positions around the page and leaving a blank triangle shape in the center. On page 2, a “mood chart” runs vertically down the right gutter and records MME’s terse descriptions of her emotional state on specific days, which we speculate run from 22 March through 11 April 1821. Commonplaces in this fascicle reflect her reading of many figures, including Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Dugald Stewart, Thomas Reid, Francis Bacon, Philip Doddridge, Germaine de Staël, and Friedrich von Schlegel. Ralph Waldo Emerson transcribed one of MME’s commonplaces from this fascicle, with no substantive differences.

Houghton: page 470b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 38
{Handwritten addition: 568} end of handwritten addition

The obligation
of the precepts con
taind in new { tes | testament }
continus so long as the
reasons on { w’h | which } they were
founded continue, & ceases when
the observation of any particular precept
is inconsistent with another of a more
general nature, or of greater importance for
for promoting the essential branches of virtue.

Doddridges lectures


If one of our Socinian writers had said this, I should
have { tho’t | thought } it a { latidunarian | latitudinarian } sentiment of a most dangerous
nature. Dod can hardly swallow it now.


His “demonstration” is thus, “1. Many precepts are delivered in
such manner, as that they must nessecerily admit of some exception, in
order to reconcile them with each other, & with the natural law of God, founded
on the mutual & immutable relation of things. 2. The law of Moses which is deliverd
in as general & universal a stile as the precepts of Christ was in some instances viola[ted] without any crime by those who were still in general under the oblgations of that law”

damaged
the damaged
original [in]
tellectual damaged
series
of great
value to which
the Romans lay un
disputed claim


I think the only
“forms” worthy of Plato
were those abstracted from
matter. { Tho’ | Though } Bacon says
“he lost the advantage
of his opinion that
forms
were the true
object of knowledge, by
grasping at those
which were { abstrcd | abstracted }
from matter & not
as determined in it.”

whence he turned
to theological { opinn | opinion }
& thence infected all
his { nat. | natural } { phi. | philosophy }
Did he ex
pect to
find forms
in theology
{ Au. | August } 20


Numa Pompilius
gaind from Egerian greece


Time an affection of motion
of { w’h | which } God is Author
That kind of life
which the best & happiest
men lead occasionly, in the
unobstructed exercise of their powers
belongs eternally to God in a degree that
should excite admiration in proportion as it
exceeds comprehension.
He began with proving { pop. | popular } { covicts | convictions } in { ye | the } exercise of moral & { intell. | intellectual } nature virtues
happiness is energy directed in true virtuetotally different
from { yt | that } { w’h | which } regards morality founded solely or ultimately
on feeling; whether a moral sense, sympathy or any other
modification of merely sensitive nature
; liable to gross abuse
Familiar with the correct geometry of his times, he descerned the concatination of { triths | truths }
{ w’h | which }, being linked indissolubly together unite the most distant & aparent extremes.

Aristotle said all our direct knowledge originates
in perceptions of sense


damaged is unanimously agreed by all astronomers, that several 1000s years
must pass before any such situation of the stars, as they would
imajine can twice happen; and it is very certain that the
state in which the heavens will be tomorrow has never
yet been since the creation of the world

Rollin

Houghton: page 470;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 38

Hamilton, 1821-031821. March
[ I read ] for the first time the solution or rather the
[ proposition ] of that { couler | color } is not in mind but the substance
[ whic ]h reflects it.
For many long years pestered with the
damageds & Addison hypothesis. And { tho’ | though } I dare not say as Reid
[ ha ]s said that the rose is red when no one sees it yet
I have said it to myself. “The dissimilitude of our sensations
& feelings to external things is the innocent Mother of
those frightfull progeny—that terminates in saying
that there exists nothing but ideas & impressions—
that there are no causes nor effects; no substances ma
terial or spiritual; no evidencee even in mathematical demon
stration; no liberty nor active power; nothing existing in na
ture but impressions & ideas following each other with
out time or place or subject.” He says too that the ex
pectation of the connection of two events is not an associa
tion of ideas
but a precsience of mind”

24 And he calls
this { prn. | principle } not the effect of reasoning but an original priciple
of { hu. | human } { na. | nature } { w’h | which } he calls the inductive { prin. | principle } The best models of
inductive reasoning those of Newtons { prinipia | principia } & opticks drawn from
Bacon. The purpose to show us real & apparent connections of
things in Nature.”

27 { M. | Morning } How ridiculous to represent enthu
siasm as a disease—
That light of the soul—that spark
of glory which will continue to burn on { thro’ | through } eternity
I mean a stronger portion of feeling—perception—exist
ence than belongs to the dull & weake. It is heroism
in the Soldier—self renunciation in the Statsman—self de
votion in the Martyr—adoration & fruition of existence
in the Recluse. Oh it is the appetite of hunger in
the soul for knowledge virtue & immotality. That it does
not find fuel enough in this clayey world to feed it


22
Thurs
23 appt { rej | rejoiced }
24 equal
25 { sab | sabbath }
26 { Tol | Tolerable }
27 forgot
28 { do | ditto }
29 poor
30 { tol | tolerable }
31 { tol | tolerable }
{ Ap | April } 1 { sab | sabbath }
Low
2 rode
3 dull
4 { do | ditto }
5 Fast { ri. | ride }
6 good
7 { do | ditto }
8 { sab | sabbath }
9 sad
10 gay
11 sad

Houghton: page 471b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 38

The { Revwer | Reviewer } of S. says that S. says that too much stress
has been laid on nature of mind
I dont think so.
Yet there is fine stuff in the following—the proper
use of the doctrine is not to demonstate that the soul is na
turally & { phi. | philosophically } immortal, but to refute the objections that have
been urged against the possibility of its seperate state
from body”
Stuart. Now I would ask what is so good an ar
gument for its’ seprate { exit. | existence } as being independant of matter?
— And if it is not matter it must be spirit as these are
all { w’h | which } belong to man, in some of their organisations
But S. does not think our knowlege of mind able to af
ford us any positive argument; for we know nothing but
that its’ qualities are essentially different from matter
so is its’ nature.— And he thinks the theory of Berkly better
than materialism as the latter only contradicts our { perctions | perceptions }

There are various circumtances { w’h | which } take place render it
highly probable that the union between soul & body { w’h | which }
damaged takes place in our present state so far from being
essential to the {Handwritten addition: our} end of handwritten addition exercise of our powers & faculties was
intended to limit the sphere of our information
& to keep
us ignorant of the nature & { govt | government } of univers in this
early stage of our existence. Indeed when we reflect
on difference between operations of mind & qualities of body it is
more wonderfull that they can be united than to sup
pose the former to exist

Houghton: page 471;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 38

The Antients better skilled in morals than { phi. | philosophy } accurate
study of { sci. | science } nesseceery to { meta. | metaphysics } nothing more unsettled than
unconnected than moral code of Antients— Rank & talents often
confounded by many of { G. | Greek } { phi. | philosophers } love of study & first duties
classed togather. In their enthusiasm for faculties of mind, they
allowed them a place of esteem beyond every thing else—neglectd
heart.


Is the fire caught
from { H. | Heaven } to be employed
in { lghting | lighting } a faggot to keep the
cold from the wasted & numbed { figers | fingers }
of poverty


Old maids may realiz[e] the publick spirit of
Plato’s republick—no female attachment.


Ari. says “all will is
free will, since nothing can
be more free than what is voluntary—”

Now why are they voluntary more than others?
to me, renders all void, as to perfect freedom—but to all
the purposes of reward & punishment.


After Charlemange { MMS | manuscripts }
collected with { opretuity | opportunity } He
learned greek in age


The Countries
whose present lan
guages are of Roman Ori
gin, the latin
not truely then considered as dead—till the
9 or 10 { Cent. | Century } Men considered it as
alive—used in rilegion & { clerties | cloisters }
.


Plato & Socrates prefered
conversation to { witing | writing }—they
felt that their ideas belonged more
to imitation than analysis. wanted { inflamaed | inflamed }
{ ima. | imagination } as the present Writers {Handwritten addition: Modern} end of handwritten addition & { metaphy | metaphysicians } want to secure
their works from poetry.


Abelard Roscelint
meaning that
As in the common degreee of
the intellectual qualities there is
no abilities; so in the common degree of
the moral, there is no virtue.


Aristotle held
that matter might
exist without forms but
forms could not without matter

That there is found
In { mounful | mournful } { tho’ts | thoughts } & always { my | may } be { fund | found }
A power to { viture | virtue } ‘friendly!’
Words

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 41), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. October 1822. [Boston, Massachusetts]. One largely undamaged MS sheet, folded to form a quarto of four leaves, the second page of which has been almost completely excised.

The editors speculate that this Almanack was written in October 1822, based on internal evidence; its resemblance to Almanack folder 40, which is dated 1821; and MME’s 1822 correspondence with Ralph Waldo Emerson, which discusses similar topics. In this Almanack, MME refers to her reading of Scottish Common Sense philosopher Dugald Stewart’s Outlines of Moral Philosophy and remarks on his “doctrine of immateriality of soul.” In a rare commentary on gender roles and a woman’s short-lived influence on her male protégés whose education will supersede hers, MME singles out the woman who is “admire[d] . . . as a kind of moral comet who has apparently passed the limits of nature and order”—likely references to women such as Elizabeth Montagu and Germaine de Staël, both of whom she admires, and about which our annotation for this passage explains in greater detail. Although she disdains this kind of “celebrity,” MME laments the day when “age has striped [stripped] the learned female of every grace” and thus limits her usefulness. Her reference in this discussion to “children [who] are outshining her” should certainly be read in light of nephew Ralph Waldo Emerson’s graduation in 1821 from Harvard College and his commencement of a teaching and literary career, while seeking a clerical position; indeed Waldo’s first publication, “Thoughts on the Religion of the Middle Ages” was published the following month, in November 1822 in Christian Disciple and Theological Review. As MME notes, “the rising generation have made new discoveries for which she is no compititor.” Recent visits with others cause MME to appreciate her “solitude & independance,” but another social encounter, with Waldo’s Harvard schoolmate Charles Wentworth Upham afforded stimulating conversation as well as another unfortunate reminder of the overweening intellects of the “rising generation.” The unfavorable comparison that Upham is not “half so interesting” as Waldo may serve as compensation for their bittersweet dinner conversation.

Houghton: page 473b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 41


not best for women to blend these pursuits so
569 much with men. Nature points at different
duties & feelings. And { tho’ | though } we admire a woman
this armed { cape & pie | cap-a-pie } for antient & modern love
as a curiosty—as a kind of moral comet who has
apparently passed the limits of nature and order,
we do not wish the same kind of celebrity for
ourselves or others. And when age has { striped | stripped } the
learned female of every grace, how can the learning
which the men possess as their peculiar right inter
est them? For women, they do not wish to shine,
only as they excite envy, and save the ab
stract love of knowledge, which (perhaps a linguist is
has not often much to do with) what has she to con
sole her retirement with? Her children are outshining
her—& { tho’ | though } indebted to her for accomplishments, are not
linked to her by the holiest of all ties, those which last
when knowlege passeth. The rising generation have made
new discoveries for which she is no compititor.
Oh
my God one profound sentiment of thy consoling pre
sence is { woth | worth } all all of Angel knowlegede.

P.M.
D. Stewart says, in his “outlines” it is not the proper use of the
doctrine of { imme. | immateriality } of soul to show that it is phisically & { nessesirly | necessarily }
immortal, but that it may refute the objections to its being
able to exist in a seperate state from body.”
“our knowlegde
of nature of mind too feeble to afford us positive knowlegde argument.
One evidencee of a future state is the { foundan | foundation } { w’h | which } are is laid
in the priciples of our constitution for a progressive &
& unlimited { improvt | improvement }
Another is “the natural apprehension
of the mind when under remorse.
On the moral [attri]
butes he calls them benevolence & justice—for the damaged Houghton: page 473;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 41
he thinks we have a stronge { argu. | argument } { aprior | apriori } from the ex
quisite pleasure our benivolent acts give us & the appro
bation we feel at others beneficence.

11. Yesteday day { appt | appointment }
peace. When I reflect on the dangers of vanity & pride
& froth—deception as to pleasing—dependance on those
who are pleased with any efforts— Oh how gratefull
am I for solitude & independance—even were they
not means of highest happiness—were not the spi
rit of socity generally, different, if not hostile to
the spirit of gospel. Oh prison of prisons to the soul is
that condition of asking leave to breathe—to feel happy
from the smiles of others. Happier too than if loaded
with that science—those langauges which exist only
for others—which are either used for getting bread
or applause—the last more degrading than the first { em
ploy.t
| employment }
.

13 {Handwritten addition: 2} end of handwritten addition Strange that very yesterday I went with Mrs
Lee
to dine— But very safely, for verry faculty was
locked & they slept sweetly.
This morning the presenti
ments of Gods favor—of dying—of improvement—awaken
rapturos delight. But oh what of them—are they not
the birth of phisical humours—do they { santify | sanctify }?

13 { Sab. | Sabbath } { N. | Noon } What a
walk & { enjoyt | enjoyment } this morning heard at { B. S. | Baptist Society } a stranger. Upham
dined here—dont think him half so interesting as one of his
clasmates. As to the { leeaning | learning } of the Apostles I never { tho’t | thought }
of it— Their being inspired with languages did not acquaint
them with the literature of the Country, whose language
they spoke, because it was merely the instrument of
conveying certain instructions.
I never { tho’t | thought } any thing
damagedt before—old & stupid that I am till this dinner
damaged I was fortunate in giving it this direction.
damagedles to Shakespear I dont love to hear Charls

Houghton: page 472b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

veexcised
be excised
bee excised
afteexcised
Lucy excised
it seexcised
anci excised
that excised
today excised
darkeexcised
Neexcised
how excised
late excised
negoexcised
traexcised
dowexcised
plexcised
nu excised
atexcised
prexcised
teexcised
thexcised
affexcised
iexcised
nexcised
ofexcised
Prexcised
yeexcised
thexcised
frexcised
iexcised
Thexcised
deexcised

Houghton: page 472;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder nt

excisedte
excisedit
excised loins
excised the
excisedfer
excisedeers
excisedty
excisedle I
excisedig
excisedow
excisedlt
excisedt
excised God
excisednce
excised of
excisedun
excisedit
excised I

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 42), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Written c. 1825-1826. Waterford, Maine. Half the size of MME’s typical Almanacks, this one-half manuscript sheet, folded and excised along the crease to produce two leaves of four pages, bears minor damage due to tears and foxing, as well as multiple marks in darker ink that may or may not be authorial. Two transcriptions are extant: George Tolman’s folder 44, and another, possibly in the hand of MME’s nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson (CCE) (1808-1836), a younger brother of Ralph Waldo Emerson (RWE), and entitled “R.W.E. Waldo’s birthday by M. M. Emerson (a sort of horoscope imagined by her)” (MS Am 1280.235 [579]: 44; Ralph Waldo Emerson Memorial Association deposit, Houghton Library, Harvard University). The final page of this Almanack includes the similar inscription “Waldos berth day” in MME’s hand. The editors note that this Almanack’s unusual features as well as its function as a birthday gift from MME to RWE has led to a lengthier and more contextualized Introduction than is typical in this edition.

Both the evidence of multiple transcriptions and darker ink marks may indicate that the Emerson family found this manuscript significant, possibly because of its connection to RWE’s birthday (25 May) or perhaps because of this Almanack’s atypical characteristics. Several other Almanacks reveal later pen or pencil marks, which often correct MME’s idiosyncratic spelling, and these markings may indicate that other family members read this Almanack closely, possibly because of its intrinsic worth and likely also of necessity, due to MME’s poor hand in this folder. Some of these marks may be considered stray or pen rests resulting from a word-for-word reading with pen in hand. Others, such as the underlining and an inverse caret under the word “terms” on page one, appear deliberate enough to suggest that a reader called attention to this word, perhaps for its illegibility. In an additional anomaly, although many selections from MME’s writings were excerpted by RWE in four “MME Notebooks,” folder 42 is the only extant example of a single Almanack that is completely transcribed in a different hand from that of George Tolman, who was hired by the Emerson family in 1901-1902 to produce a legible copy of all MME’s Almanacks. This transcription, tentatively attributed to CCE, displays multiple instances of indecision in construing MME’s abstruse handwriting, including question marks, blanks in the text, and alternative readings; what the editors report as “terms” is very poorly formed, and the transcriber leaves a blank space here (although another, lighter hand, now effaced, appears to have hazarded a guess).

Alternatively, these seemingly intentional marks may also indicate interpretive emphasis, i.e., since, in astrology the phrase “old terms” denotes the twelve “houses” that correspond to the earth’s rotation, and to the twelve zodiac signs used to cast a horoscope, a prophetic practice that is a framing device for this Almanack, as the CCE transcription proposes with its added title, “a sort of horoscope imagined by her.”

During a period when RWE was struggling with skepticism while reaching a difficult decision about the feasibility of committing to the ministry, MME composed this Almanack as a dialogue between Plato and “Ancestor”—MME’s father, Reverend William Emerson (1743-1776)—who represented for MME the embodiment of both a Revolutionary War hero and the five generations of Emerson clergymen who also served as leading figures in their communities. The initial focus of the conversation that ensues between Plato and Ancestor centers on an “elipse [eclipse]” that threatens RWE’s future prospects. Typically more self-critical than her self-presentation in this Almanack, MME also inserts herself prominently into this dialogue. Plato not only predicts the fortunes of aunt and nephew but even suggests that this self-educated, single woman, albeit possessing “a mind not well balenced,” has earned a place in the “coterie[s]” of Plato and of Ancestor, who represent the upper echelons of classical philosophy and new world theology, respectively. The Emerson nephews’ well documented joke about MME’s role as a prophetic Cassandra frustrated MME, but she didn’t fully reject the part either (EmL, 1:104-105; SL, 147-148; Cole 189-190). Her “New Light” religious background had fostered “an undoctrinal but popular interest . . . in prophecy, or second sight,” and MME apparently instilled in RWE a similar interest, as this Almanack and their 1820s correspondence reveal (Barish, 44; Cole, 170-173). Ultimately, in this dialogue, Plato assures Ancestor that RWE will come through the dangerous “eclipse” and “stand firm in mind & virtue.”

As the forgoing suggests, folder 42 can be considered a fancifully-conceived astrological horoscope in support of a cherished nephew’s personal and professional prospects, but as is her routine writing practice, MME may also reimagine and conflate multiple genres, including the epics of Dante and Virgil; the dialogic philosophical works of Plato, Socrates, and their intellectual descendants; dramatic dialogues; and letters. This manuscript’s generic attributes and setting are indeed sufficiently unlike the Almanacks’ most common type of miscellany, the commonplace book and diary, to distinguish it among her manuscript series; moreover, despite its brevity, its allusiveness and obscurity warrant additional contexts for readers, particularly in regard to MME’s and RWE’s significant manuscript exchanges in the 1820s, Plato and his writings, Dante’s Inferno, and Virgil’s Aeneid. By the mid 1820s, MME understood and admired the works of these literary and philosophical figures. As early as 1814, writing to friend and future sister-in-law Sarah Alden Bradford, MME exuberantly discloses her conception of Plato as a pre-Christian ideal, a common interpretation at this time. André Dacier’s eighteenth-century translations of Plato (read by RWE), for example, present him as a “proto-Christian whose works, while not exactly revelation, nevertheless teach all the important doctrines of Christianity” (Richardson, 65). “What do you know about Epictitus, Plato, & that Gentry,” she questions Bradford eagerly. “Oh how delightfull are thier names! They were ordained to preserve alive some sparks of religion in a dreadfull night of error” (SL, 86).

MME and RWE’s biographers have all suggested that the 1820s epistolary conversation between aunt and nephew depicts two fervent intellects, each grappling with new forms of infidelity: lively and occasionally compelling attacks on the known but increasingly unstable world. The energy they brought to one another was intoxicating, but in Almanack, Folder 42, as opposed to the sharper critiques of her earlier missives to RWE, MME offers consolation and hope to a young man mired in a personal “eclipse”; importantly, in this Almanack Plato becomes both a familial and philosophical talisman. Through Plato, she addresses RWE’s great fears of the early 1820s—his crisis of faith, his uncertain professional ambitions, and his personal sense of frailty. As Plato confirms to Ancestor, RWE will learn to “stand firm in mind & virtue.” Moreover, as the cosmopolitan “citizen of the world,” Plato continues to loom large for the later public intellectual that RWE will become. This Almanack and its related contexts thereby provide freshly nuanced insight into MME’s role in her nephew’s personal, intellectual, and professional development; into Plato’s impact on RWE’s mature intellectual life; and into the significance of recurring commentary on the poet-prophet and vision in RWE’s writings.

The ambiguous and allusive nature of MME’s references and the absence of any concrete dating of Folder 42 beyond its “Waldos berth day” attribution make this Almanack particularly opaque. Fortunately, however, MME and RWE’s avid 1820s correspondence and manuscript exchanges provide useful chronology and context. These writings—of vital importance to both aunt and nephew—ground the editors’ speculative date of Folder 42 as circa 1825-1826, prior to RWE’s birthday on 25 May. Their epistolary conversation and other letters and their journals, ranging from the beginning of the decade through 1827, provide many points of entry for understanding this Almanack—both writers’ interest in imagining dialogues with Plato; MME’s use of the term “Ancestor” to venerate Reverend William Emerson; its depiction of RWE’s professional future; RWE’s characterization as a “seere [seer]” allied with other orders of light; and finally the “spirit” within an “eclipse” that surpasses “the old king” feared by Calvinists and who threatens RWE’s path. These letters and journals also suggest the great extent to which MME’s “berth day” Almanack represents a loving attempt to comfort, guide, and support a beloved young nephew who was spiritually and emotionally adrift.

MME and RWE each admired Plato as a philosopher, and, as noted above, in MME’s case particularly, as a proto-Christian thinker, but their imaginative letters to and from Plato expand the purely intellectual bounds of his influence as a historical figure and elevate him to a sort of familial talisman or unorthodox, classical household god. MME’s interest in Plato dates back to the early 1800s, but a fascinating 1821 Almanack (see Folder 40 above) shows her deeper engagement with Plato and Aristotle, Plato’s Republic, and the dialogic writings of both Plato and Socrates. Her commonplacing in that Almanack suggests that her understanding of these classical figures derived from an array of authors—Frances Bacon; John Gillies, who translated and commented on Aristotle; Germaine de Staël; Friedrich von Schlegel; and Dugald Stewart. For his part, between 1819 and 1821, RWE had read an English translation of Dacier’s French edition and commentary on Greek philosophers, but he understood Plato primarily as Socrates’s biographer (EmL, 7:117n23; Rusk, 78). Yet by 1822, in a letter to Harvard classmate William Withington, RWE claimed that among all the “ancients,” Plato was a representative cosmopolitan: a “citizen of the world . . [; who] soared above his time, and judged of men and things then, as a speculative man does today” (EmL, 7:117).

Between May and July 1824, RWE put that opinion to use (SL, 188n1). Grappling with philosophical doubt, likely brought on by his reading of British philosopher David Hume, as evidenced by letters between him and MME this year and earlier (as she writes in a letter conjecturally dated 26 April 1828), “Your reading Hume when young has rendered you, I cannot but think, so imbued with his manner of thinking, that you cannot shake him off”; RWE composed a letter to Plato, which he then sent to MME. MME responded in August with a letter she’d written, from Plato to RWE (EmJMN, 2:xi-xii; SL, 241; Barish, 99-115). The significance of these exchanges during the early 1820s, and their potential relation to Almanack, Folder 42, cannot be overstated. Of the five miscellaneous notebooks that RWE kept between 1822 and 1826, one full journal, “No. XVIII[A],” (c. 1823-1824) “is given over mostly to copies of letters which passed between” the two (EmJMN, 2:xiii, 355-395). An eager manuscript exchange during these years culminated in RWE’s early undergraduate and post-Harvard writings, from his “Present State of Ethical Philosophy” (1821), to his letter to Plato (1824)—and in MME’s “To a certain Muse” letter and enclosure (1822), “Letter to Plato” (1824), and Almanack, Folder 42 (c. 1825-1826) (SL, 157). Each of these earlier compositions contributes to the editors’ speculative dating of and commentary on this Almanack. While their correspondence is excitedly intellectual in tone, both RWE and MME exhibit a self-consciously playful, performative spirit that is also on display in RWE’s early journal writing, characterized by imaginative drawings and a “desire to probe the secrets of the otherworld” through verse and fictional fantasy, with mythic and gothic settings and prophecy (Barish, 83). In the years immediately surrounding the composition of Folder 42, however, RWE was attempting to wean himself from these fanciful subjects by turning to history, which he regarded as a more masculine field of study (Barish, 118). Although these earlier interests persisted—as the Plato epistolary exchange and an 1826 letter with brother CCE’s admonishment to “let the fictions of Chivalry alone” (quoted in Barish, 118) suggest—during and after that year RWE’s letters to MME grew increasingly less spirited and were more serious and “compositional” in tone and rhetoric. For these and other reasons addressed below, the editors surmise that the RWE of 1827 therefore might have been less interested in the sort of birthday offering that Folder 42 represents.

During those same years, 1821-1826, and despite being approbated to preach in October 1826, RWE suffered from depression due to philosophical doubt, his resulting uncertainty about the viability of the ministry as a profession, his frustrated teaching in a series of schools, and, importantly, his physical health, due to ongoing complications from tuberculosis (EmFBL, xix; SL, 131). As RWE wrote in his journal at this time, “But now I’m a hopeless Schoolmaster just entering upon years of trade to which no distinct limit is placed; toiling through this miserable employment even without the poor satisfaction of discharging it well” (EmJMN, 1:130). Between 1825 and 1827, he struggled to identify defensible arguments against Humean skepticism; further, his failing health created an ongoing impediment first to his pursuit of theological studies at Harvard Divinity School and then to the consistent delivery of sermons. He lost the use of his eyes in 1825 (most likely due to a condition called uveitis), underwent surgery, and then traveled South from November 1826 to June 1827 to treat his lungs (Richardson, 63; EmFBL, xix-xx). He came slowly to some sense of philosophical and physical equilibrium by the time of his return (Richardson 69; Barish 198). Even so, RWE became an established divinity school candidate (as indicated by the Harvard catalogue) only during the 1828-1829 academic year, and was finally ordained as a junior pastor at Boston’s Second Church on 11 March 1829 (Rusk, 128-129; EmFBL, xx). But as Evelyn Barish suggests, RWE “had not resolved the problems of theodicy and skepticism that had paralyzed him for so long; rather he had moved beyond them, coming to realize that they were both insoluble, and, on a certain level, irrelevant” (198). On Christmas Day, 1827, RWE met Ellen Louisa Tucker, his future wife and the inspiration of a new focus for his personal and professional life (EmFBL, xx).

As previously observed, a variety of factors—including improved health, professional stability, philosophical equilibrium, and personal happiness—suggests that pre-1827 is the likely compositional timeframe for Almanack, Folder 42, especially considering the editors’ preceding commentary as to a circa 1825-1826 window as the period of RWE’s greatest receptivity to this Almanack. Further working against a late 1820s date for this folder is the fact that by 1828, brother CCE had usurped RWE’s role as MME’s primary correspondent (SL, 132). Prior to this epistolary shift from RWE to CCE, however, MME’s letters to RWE in the years leading up to his personal and spiritual crisis and its resolution display several elements found in Folder 42: among them, invocations to otherworldly guides such as Plato and Reverend William Emerson (the latter in the guise of “Ancestor”), both figures’ roles in the prophesy regarding RWE’s path in life as a “disinterested” public figure and “seer,” and MME’s ongoing attempts to both comfort and challenge RWE in light of the demoralizing toll he was enduring from philosophical doubt.

Phyllis Cole and Evelyn Barish rightly find that RWE’s letter to Plato demonstrates his engagement with Hume, and both see early signs of his inability to shake off skepticism in his 1821 essay, “Present State of Ethical Philosophy.” RWE shared an early draft of this essay with MME, to which she responded, and RWE incorporated material from her response into his final essay (Cole, 164, 167-168, 176, 179; Barish, 99-100). In “Present State,” RWE judges that Hume’s reader can no longer find any “relation between cause and effect, [so] he wanders on till he has effaced memory, judgment, and, finally, our own consciousness; and the laws of morals become idle dreams and fantasies” (RWE, “Present State of Ethical Philosophy,” in Two Unpublished Essays, ed. and introd. Edward Everett Hale [Boston & New York: Lamson Wolffe & Co, 1895], 68). RWE adds in frustration that if Hume’s system is indeed “fact, mankind will be content to be deceived; if the system of morals which we hold to be true be a dream, it is the dream of a god reposing in Elysium; and who would desire to be awaked from the sublime deception?” (68)—an intriguing thought, given that his doubt-filled “Letter to Plato” (1824) is set in just such an Elysium. After surveying Thomas Reid and other common-sense philosophers who counter Hume and Irish philosopher George Berkeley, RWE concludes, “These reasonings as yet want the neatness and conclusiveness of a system, and have not been made with such complete success as to remove the terror which attached to the name of Hume” (68-69). RWE’s early evaluation of the tangible fear that Hume’s writings evoked in Unitarian circles was unlikely to find a welcoming reception among his Harvard instructors, an assessment made by RWE’s friend Edward Everett Hale in 1895 (Barish, 102, 100). Tellingly, Folder 42 echoes this distrust, when Plato describes a spirit—perhaps the embodiment of philosophical doubt—that “has been permitted to triumph over the race byond [beyond] the old king you calvinists use to fear.” Barish confirms that Hume incited fear in Harvard’s faculty, observing that although Hume had been dead for nearly a half century by the time RWE matriculated at Harvard, “he was still known as the ‘Great Infidel,’ the skeptical enemy whose impeccably logical doubts about the necessary connection of cause and effect and whose devastating attacks on the common sense inferences of natural religion had never fully been answered” (104). In a 20 January 1824 letter to RWE, a frustrated MME expressed similar dissatisfaction with Hume’s seemingly irrefutable logic: “You must tell me whether there are any direct answers to his epicurean argument about the universe being a ‘singular effect,’” she complained. “That this Out law, who finds every thing unconnected uncertain & illusory, and ‘the effect totally different from the cause,’ should cast such a mist that we cant get hold of his sophistry is irritating” (SL, 179).

But in Folder 42, MME’s commentary on the potentially skeptical spirit that overshadows and diminishes “the old king you calvinists use to fear” sends up a more complicated response to a philosophy of doubt, while also delivering a corrective to the still prevalent estimate of MME as a rigid Congregationalist. In this Almanack, she appears to joke with RWE (whose dismissive opinion on this subject is more widely understood than is MME’s) about orthodox views of an angry Calvinist god of eternal hellfire. In a letter of 17 December 1824, for example, RWE reveals his common approach to this orthodoxy: “I cannot help revolting from ye double deity gross Gothic offspring of some Genevan school” (EmL, 7:132). But MME reveals her own not dissimilar thinking in a letter to stepfather Ezra Ripley on 25 July 1826, when she criticizes the congregants—“profess[ors of] the primitive faith of the New England pilgrims”—from a new church in Concord. “Oh I am sick to the very heart when I see long faces and high orthodoxy, where it is united with exclusive salvation and canting declamation,” she confessed to Ripley (SL, quoted on 220n4, 219). As this letter and Folder 42 both imply, MME differed especially with orthodox Calvinism’s tenets of eternal damnation and predestination. (For a more extensive view of her theological differences from the Calvinist vision and her own focus upon redemption, see Almanack, Folder 4 above in Women Writers Online, as well as the editors’ discussion of this Almanack in Women Writers in Context: https://www.wwp.northeastern.edu/context/index.html#bakpet.emerson.xml.)

MME’s Plato of Folder 42 also potentially betrays a sense of humor about his own “methods of getting at truth,” since they predate Calvinist dogma as well as Ancestor’s Unitarian- and Enlightenment-inspired creed. Plato gleans the “truth” of RWE’s horoscope, as the astrological practice is traditionally understood, “more plainly.” He observes, “indeed we of the old world . . . consult not stars—material but a series of causes & effects w’h [which] lie in certain foresights,” a wry description that may pun on or even signal a more open approach to skeptical arguments against an inevitable connection between cause and effect. As Cole suggests in characterizing MME and RWE’s conversations on Hume, skepticism, and the question of evil in a divinely-created universe, “her volatile mind took in multiple possibilities”—some of them contradictory, even within the scope of a sentence—and “her critique of Unitarianism could take Calvinist and pagan forms by turn” (178, 179).

Several key elements in Folder 42 also emerge incipiently in a 26 June 1822 letter from MME to RWE, in which she also encloses a manuscript written “To a certain Muse”—an address to a mythical figure that anticipates the letters to and from Plato in 1824. Answering either an earlier letter from RWE dated 10 June, or another epistle no longer extant, MME responds to his complaint that his Muse has become “faint & mean” (SL, 159n1, quoted on 155). In her own letter, MME chastises her nephew for his role in provoking the Muse’s neglect: in her view, the inevitable result of his engagement with “sensation rather than sentiment” (SL, 155). This letter represents a striking critique when juxtaposed with Plato’s praiseworthy prediction of the disinterested and “stronge phases—not personal” that will come to represent the character of RWE in Folder 42. In 1822, however, MME depicts negatively RWE’s attitude and intellectual practices in contrast with the “budding powers” of mind displayed by “Plato, Plotinus and such godlike worthies.” “You are not inspired, in heart, with a gift for immortality,” she proposes severely, “because you are the Nursling of surrounding cercumstances—You become yourself a part of the events which make up ordinary life—even that part of the economy of living which relates in the order of things nessecarily to private & social affections, rather than publick & disinterested” (SL, 155). Further, in considering the virtues of Reverend William Emerson, she sharply disputes RWE’s earlier praise of Cicero and Julius Caesar. Cicero’s “eloquence it is true is glorious,” but as a public figure, Cicero devolved into “the meanest of Scavangers,” for the “love of fame” dogged his “genius.” “Such are the men you are more excited by than by your noble & heroic Ancestor!,” she sputtered. “‘Pomp of cercumstance’ Mercifull Creator, this child so young, so well born & bred—yet so wedded to sounds & places where human passions triumphed! When he knows that spots the most famous, even by thy own appearance, are swept out of record!” (SL, 156).

Despite the harshness of her tone in this letter, MME continues to reaffirm the vital connection of birth and heritage flowing from her adored father to RWE—as she also does in Almanack, Folder 42. In this Almanack, Ancestor and Plato reveal their conjoined interest and intercession in RWE’s horoscope and path, and Plato explains his objective to “lead the young aspirant to the reason & worth of the emblem of sorrow & love he has adopted,” another possible allusion to Reverend William Emerson, who for MME was indeed the emblem of deep affection and loss as well as the representative of generations of family clergymen. RWE in 1837 acknowledged the worth of that heritage (however much at other times he dismissed it) and of the aunt who transmitted it. “I cannot hear the young men whose theological instruction is exclusively owed to Cambridge & to public institution,” he mused, “without feeling how much happier was my star which rained on me influences of ancestral religion. The depth of the religious sentiment which I knew in my Aunt Mary imbuing all her genius & derived to her from such hoarded family traditions[,] from so many godly lives & godly deaths of sainted kindred . . . was itself a culture[,] an education” (EmJMN, 5:323). Inculcating that sense of heritage through prophecy (as she does also in this Almanack), in a letter of 6 December 1824, MME reiterated the links between RWE and Ancestor, who in Folder 42 are a “seer” and “a son of light & truth,” respectively. In this letter, MME suggests that RWE may be a “pharos to your Country & times” (SL, 193). Notably, in an 1826-1827 Almanack with two enclosures that served as a joint tribute to William Emerson and to herself, MME again characterizes William Emerson as a “pharos” or lighthouse (Noelle A. Baker, “‘Something more than material’: Nonverbal Conversation in Mary Moody Emerson’s Almanacs,” RALS 35 [2010]: 51-56). MME also refers to William Emerson as “Ancestor” in letters of 23 August [1825] to RWE and on 21 June 1826 to RWE’s older brother William—as she responded in 1826 to the wording of a tribute to be dedicated to Reverend William Emerson in Concord (SL, 197, 216). Considered in the context of these letters, of RWE’s serious and sustained loss of vision, and of his feelings of personal and professional failure between 1825 and 1827, MME’s similar references in Almanack, Folder 42 to her cherished nephew as a seer worthy of the respect of Plato and Ancestor—“a son of light and truth”—show generous sensitivity to his fears.

MME and RWE may also have shared some of the intellectual underpinnings of the idea of the seer or poet-prophet during the 1820s—primarily via the commentary of Thomas Blackwell, Robert Lowth, Joseph Stevens Buckminster, J. G. Michaelis, Johann Gottfried von Herder, and Edward Everett. As Robert D. Richardson, Jr. suggests, Blackwell’s writing on Homer and Lowth’s examination of the bible as sacred poetry established “the most important foundations for modern criticism of Homer and the Bible and for the modern conception of the poet as prophet . . . . [which] runs from Lowth to Blake, to Herder, and to Whitman” (12). MME’s 1826 Almanack reveals her familiarity with Michaelis and his biblical commentary, and as Cole argues, MME may have been exposed to his thoughts even earlier via the Boston clergyman Joseph Stevens Buckminster, also a colleague of her father. Cole cites the evidence of MME’s Almanacks that explore “the more ‘literary’ use of scripture that Buckminster was embracing,” adding that MME had possibly “heard from Buckminster about Bishop Lowth’s study of the Psalms and Prophets as sacred poetry, as well as about German scholar J. G. Michaelis’s questioning of the New Testament canon” (126). Both Lowth and Blackwell’s writings were pivotal texts for RWE’s idol, mentor, and Harvard professor Edward Everett (Richardson, 13), and MME waxed eloquent over Everett’s Brattle Street sermons and later publications. He was an “illustrious star” in her 1814 letter to Phebe Emerson Ripley and the “spell binding Evertt” in a letter to RWE speculatively dated a decade later in 1814 (SL, 144, 823n2, 178, 128, 142, 144). Moreover, in the 1826 letter to nephew William Emerson referenced above and written at the time of the commemoration to her father in Concord, MME discusses a dream in which “Evertt’s career” is both a model for the professional lives of RWE and his brothers and also similar to “Ancestor,” who figures as a hero in the dream (SL, 216; see also Cole, 185, and Baker, 53-54).

By 1824, the year of MME and RWE’s Plato-focused correspondence, aunt and nephew had established a rich and allusive layering of theological, philosophical, literary, and familial emblems and ideas upon which to discuss their mutual prospects as well as to set the stage for the speculative dating of Folder 42 as c. 1825-1826. RWE composed his letter to Plato around the time of his 21st birthday, between May and July of 1824; the only extant copy of it is in his journal “Wide World XIII” (SL, 188n1). RWE’s state of mind at this time may be judged in part by a preceding journal entry dated 18 April 1824, in which he declares his intention to begin his ministerial studies by conducting a thorough self-examination. “In a month,” he writes solemnly, “I shall be legally a man” (EmJMN, 2:237). Scanning his talents and character traits, he admits that they “contrive to make me second with all those among whom chiefly I wish to be first” (EmJMN, 2:238-239). Nonetheless, he adds, “in Divinity I hope to thrive,” since he had inherited “a passionate love for the strains of eloquence” either from MME’s father, whom he styles a “patrio[t]” or from RWE’s own father, who was likewise a respected clergyman. In a rare moment of positive self-evaluation in this letter, RWE equates his love of eloquence with Cicero’s passion for “‘aliquid immensum infinitumque’”—“something great and immeasurable” (239, 239n54). Possibly a similar sentiment also provoked MME’s previous, mixed review of Cicero, in favor of Ancestor, in 1822. But as RWE’s journal entry painfully details, RWE feels beset by a “defect of character” that in his view produces a “score of words & deeds . . . . begotten of weakness & born of shame. . . . In my frequent humiliation, even before women & children I am compelled to remember the poor boy who cried, ‘I told you, Father, they would find me out.’ Even those feelings which are counted noble & generous, take in me the taint of frailty” (240-241). Bolstering himself in the hope that “my profession shall be my regeneration of mind, manners, inward & outward estate; or rather my starting point,” he declares to the Parcae or Fates, “Spin on, Ye of the adamantine spindle, spin on, my fragile thread” (242).

This invocation of prophecy and his frail thread of life sets up another despairing self-assessment and interrogation of religious and philosophical theories in RWE’s journal, dated May 2, 1824. “Tell me, my soul,” he writes, “if this be true; if these indolent days & frivolous nights, these insignificant accomplishments, this handful of thought, this pittance of virtues are to form my trust & claim on an existence as imperishable as my Maker’s.” He looks hopelessly to spiritual and metaphysical traditions as guides, “but neither metaphysics nor ethics are more than outside sciences. They give me no insight into the nature & design of my being . . . . Cudworth & Locke may both be true, and every system of religion yet offered to man wholly false.” Lacking any beacon to steer his course, RWE ends on a grimly determined note. “I am ambitious not to live in a corner, or . . . to be contemptible in a corner. Meantime my prospect is no better; my soul is dark or is dead. I will hope. ‘She is not dead, but sleepeth’” (EmJMN, 2:245, 246).

Directly following this entry is RWE’s “Letter to Plato.” Suggestively, in Plato, RWE may see a pharos, a beacon of possibility beyond Locke, Cudworth, metaphysics, or ethics—a light to awaken his soul. This potential possibility likewise suggests that in Almanack, Folder 42 MME may deliberately choose Plato as the pilot who rises above all theological inquiries to lead RWE to “the seasone of a great possession.” In his 1824 letter, RWE addresses Plato as one who “ha[s] now dwelled in the land of souls upward of twenty centuries.” His subject is “the moral & religious condition of man,” and RWE casts faint praise on the Republic as a mere prophecy of the promise fulfilled in America, “where is founded a political system more wise & successful than Utopia or the Atlantis” (EmJMN, 2:246, 247). Whether RWE’s assessment of the “condition of man” reflects on humankind broadly or perhaps also autobiographically on one who is on the cusp of becoming “legally a man” was potentially a question for MME as she read this “Letter to Plato,” for RWE describes the advent of modern history as a time in which the bible’s “manual, a Rule of life” had overturned the “influence of Socrates & his disciple” (“pagan Plato”), while Christianity’s “regular priesthood” and their human flock had betrayed its “divine message” (247). Refusing the older wisdom of Socrates and Plato, society has engaged in a “great self-deception practised daily,” enabling it to act from self-interest, hypocritically cloaked in the name of religion and virtue (248). RWE confesses to Plato that while he trusts in “Revelation,” it cannot make for him “the same exclusive & extraordinary claims it has for many. I hold Reason to be a prior revelation & that they do not contradict each other.” Attacking miraculous events in the bible, RWE also decries “fear & superstition” which “extort” from reasoning humanity “words or rites or reasons which they do not understand, since it makes a ruin of the mind” and could only “please none but a cruel & malicious divinity”; moreover, the “belief of such a God & such sublime depravity is absurd” (250, 251). The remainder of RWE’s letter condemns the Calvinist tenets of election and predestination in scathing terms that bring to mind Folder 42’s reference to the “old king you calvinists use to fear”: “I need not inform you,” he observes to Plato, “in all its depraved details of the theology under whose chains Calvin of Geneva bound Europe down; but this opinion, that the Revelation had become necessary to the salvation of men thro’ some Conjunction of events in heaven, is one of its vagaries” (251).

MME responded to RWE’s “Letter to Plato” by composing an eight-page rejoinder from Plato, speculatively dated in August 1824, the month of her 50th birthday. Building on RWE’s characterization of Plato’s habitation in the “‘land of souls’” (SL, 186), MME describes that place in terms that demonstrate the characteristic ways that she may loosely play with sources such as Virgil and Dante’s epics and then distill them with her imagination and other sources—as here, their epistolary exchange—in Folder 42. Others also find epic echoes in their Plato letters: Richardson describes MME’s letter from Plato as “an unacknowledged classic of Christian humanism,” filled with an “irresistible,” “urgent, vivid, fable-making belief” (57), and Barish views its description of Plato’s Christianized afterlife, subsequent to taking “the wings of light,” as “a remarkable Dantesque vision” (143). But the themes and references in MME’s letter to Plato should also be compared with similar but comparatively skeletal threads in Almanack, Folder 40 (1821). Because MME largely filled that Almanack with graphically-positioned commonplace extracts from her reading, without additional commentary, this 1824 letter both amplifies subjects presented visually rather than verbally in the earlier Almanack and reveals the ways that MME considered and experimented with the expression of stimulating commonplace sources over several years. In her letter, MME depicts a present moment that postdates RWE’s setting of Plato’s dwelling in the “land of souls.” In order to read RWE’s letter to him, her Plato steps forth from a “rainbow pavillion, where he had been holding converse with some who had first attained the imperial robes of martyrdom” as well as with later martyrs “such as Fennelon, William Law, Eliot and other herors [heroes] of the Magnalia” (SL, 185). Logically, Plato’s conversation with Ancestor in Folder 42 may take place in the rainbow pavillion as well, since, in MME’s view, Reverend William Emerson would have figured prominently in a 19th-century continuation of Cotton Mather’s religious history of New England, the Magnalia Christi Americana (1702).

After reading RWE’s letter, MME’s Plato issues a “signified rebuke” (SL, 185) to his correspondent, a dictated response in which he defends the enduring nature of his idealist philosophy while also outlining the failures of the American republic, chief among them, slavery. “You proceed to speake of your own times,” Plato exclaims, “to boast them—yet own—ah you might have owned the whole sad truth—of nations untold of your vaunted revelation, as yet, to any purpose—of slaves—more miserable than ever my Country made, under xian [christian] skies!” (SL, 186). Plato also takes on the “Scotsman,” who Barish and Cole agree is David Hume (Barish, 143; Cole, 179). While championing his Republic, Plato dismisses the transient nature of philosophical doubt: “The very Scotsman, so eminent, will take his place with his predesessors. What did he know or prove to vanquish my universals—my innate ideas independent on perception—forms existing orignally in the divine mind—and impossible to explain the production of them, if they were not independant on experience” (SL, 186). Plato also casts shade on RWE’s supposed familiarity with his time in the “land of souls,” referring to it instead as “travels” in that field. His subsequent description of that journey, in which he passes, dream-like, to view “the coming of the sphered souls of Anaxagoras, Thales, Pythagoras” and the life, death, and ascension of Jesus of Nazareth provoked wonder and new awareness. He also “saw abodes of misery” resembling epic underworld descriptions. In addition, however, Plato’s report of his travels contains crucial elements that appear in Almanack, Folder 42, including Plato’s “old world” “methods of getting at truth—of prophecy” through “horoscopes” or a “cipher,” Plato’s election to a proto-Christian sphere, and the elite coteries that Ancestor, “a son of light & truth” and Plato occupy (and to which MME was worthy of admittance): some resembled those in your world, who are wretched—others were surrounded with remembrances of former pleasures and ensigns of what seemed to them endless sorrow— . . . I was visited by some, as I often changed the scene, of those who had ministered to man from his birth—among them were those who had bore the telescope of prophecy—the lost oracles of which, I had heard some echoes—these knew with what diligence I had sought to hear a divine voice— . . . and they were commissioned to tell me, I was at liberty to seek—to join some other order than my own—to search for the highest interpreters of the ever during nature of divine laws and of created beings. I took the wings of light—and finally found admittance into the abode of those sons of God who shouted at the creation of our world. (SL, 186, 187)

MME’s Plato letter to RWE provides a crucial supplementary view of the ways that in her Almanacks MME distills and reimagines multi-generic source material, including epic verse and epistolary writing. Phyllis Cole has written intuitively about MME’s additional sourcing here from Plato’s “own images and ideas” in his dialogues—“a sundial with dimensions beyond human reckoning, its pointers of ‘gnomons’ casting a shadow beyond themselves to ever-greater realities”—and melding of them with theological tenets in order to produce a new form of unorthodoxy and even a “Romantic vision.” As MME and RWE both well understood, “Saving Puritan piety from ‘the times’ meant infusing it with energies not its own” (Cole, 180).

The correspondence between MME and RWE undoubtedly generated unique energy and urgency to Almanack, Folder 42, but Dante’s Inferno, and Virgil’s Aeneid, both of which MME had read by the mid 1820s, may also have contributed to this Almanack’s generic miscellany. MME demonstrated her interest in these classical epics by 1814, when she quizzed Sarah Alden Bradford on Dante. “Ever you read Dante?” she wrote. “Why is that that his infernal reigions are so much more interesting than his celestial?” (SL, 86). In 1824, and with similarly ardent praise, MME demonstrates her propensity to reinvent epics for her contemporaries, an imaginative talent also potentially at work in Folder 42. Commenting on the recent death of Byron, MME declares that no one could “give life to those mysterious and profound sentiments of the soul as [Byron] had given.” “Nor can I part with his ghost,” she adds, while also referencing Byron’s grim poem “Darkness.” Byron’s lines recall epic treatments of gruesome infernal regions, which MME imagines as a fresh setting for Aeneas’s journey through the underworld, safeguarded by the Sybil and the protection of the golden bough. Significantly, however, she inserts Byron’s ghost in Aeneas’s place. “[The ghost] often appears to me wandering in scenes like to his own ‘darkness’—and amidst his stygian journey the golden branch is forbidden—no chaste Sybil warns him of Cocytus—of death & death’s half brother sleep” (SL, 191, 192). Epics often showcase myth making, spiritual quests of exploration, nation founding, and literary achievement, important frameworks for the young RWE in the 1820s, and MME possessed a unique ability to transmit their multiple messages to her nephew. As RWE remembered admiringly after his aunt’s death, MME “described the world of Plato, Spinoza, & all the ghosts, as if she had been mesmerized, & saw them objectively” (RWE, MS Am 1280H: 149; Ralph Waldo Emerson Memorial Association deposit, Houghton Library, Harvard University).

Using that vision, at once “mesmerized” and “objective[e],” in this Almanack, Folder 42, speculatively dated 1825-1826, MME may repurpose the epics of Dante and Virgil while positioning herself, RWE, and Reverend William Emerson within a dramatic discourse that loosely aligns with these classical authors. As points of similarity, Aeneas’s underworld experience reaffirms the vital purpose of his mission to establish Rome, and Dante’s journey through the circles of hell enacts spiritual regeneration. Both of these epics may have inspired MME’s desire to instill in her nephew the grand scope of his spiritual and worldly potential. But significant differences exist as well. For example, in Limbo, the Inferno’s first circle of Hell, Dante converses with classical figures such as Plato, Horace, Ovid, Julius Caesar, and the mythic Electra—alongside his guide, the shade Virgil. Since these unbaptized residents of Limbo died before Christ’s resurrection offers human salvation, they are forbidden access to heaven, despite being pure and noble. Unlike the Plato of Folder 42, who ascends to “the order of the elected,” the Inferno’s shades will never know heaven’s grace, nor will Ancestor, as a Christian and steward of Christians, have lived among the unbaptized shades who inhabit Dante’s first circle of hell. Similarly, while in Folder 42 Plato depicts his horoscope methodology as a specialized and legitimate practice, in Dante’s Inferno, all damned souls possess the power of foreknowledge (see, for example, Canto XXIV, lines 142-151, when the shade Vanni Fucci, the illegitimate son of Fuccio de’ Lazzari of Pistoia, predicts political events that would transpire in either 1302 or 1306 [The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri: Inferno, trans. Allen Mandelbaum; notes by Mandelbaum and Gabriel Marruzzo, with Laury Magnus (New York: Bantam Dell, 1981), 378n124-126, n143-151]), and Dante dedicates Canto XX to diviners, astrologers, and magicians as a particular category of the damned, due to their impious challenge to god’s exclusive authority over human life. Likewise, when Virgil’s Aeneas undertakes his voyage through the underworld, guided by the Cumaean Sibyl, he seeks and finds in Elysium his ancestor, father Anchises, who then reveals Aeneas’s great destiny in Italy: to found Rome and establish an empire (Book 6). Alternatively, in Folder 42, MME seeks to unite RWE with the achievement that her own father, his grandfather, represents. Moreover, proxies for the epic figures of Dante and Aeneas do not appear as actors in Folder 42; their closest approximation, RWE himself, is both the subject of Plato and Ancestor’s discussion and a reader of, rather than participant in, this birthday Almanack’s discourse. Indirectly, Plato acts the part of Dante’s Virgil or Virgil’s Sibyl, since he claims that he will “lead the young aspirant to the reason & worth of the emblem of sorrow & love he has adopted”; notably, that mentoring role is one that MME had previously fulfilled for RWE, as both Plato and Ancestor acknowledge in their conversation.

Folder 42 reveals MME’s independent and emerging religious and philosophical complexity and her increasing creativity as a writer, particularly in regard to generic experimentation. In this Almanack, MME asserts both humility and ambition: she steps aside so that Plato’s classical unorthodoxy can guide her nephew, the promising youth, and she depicts herself both prominently and mysteriously: as one who will be ambiguously “translate[d]” by the “spirit” in the “eclipse” (skeptical philosophy), by orthodox Calvinist thinking (the “old king” feared by that group), or by “the peculiarly good.” And while autobiography may not be a primary generic influence in this manuscript, MME’s characterization of herself as “a mind not well balenced thrown between antagonist objects & affections,” and one who “is like the ocean in a tempest where seas & winds contend” may reflect a positive self-awareness of the contradictions that will inevitably surface in a mind of such voracious appetites as hers. And perhaps leaving her beloved RWE, a favorite intellectual playmate, in the hands of Plato was not so painful: in doing so MME also writes herself into contention for two disparate but elite Elysiums: the coterie of Plato and of the venerable Reverend William Emerson.

Houghton: page 474b;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 44
[Plato who had of late been
honored with { beering | bearing } a palm
among the order of the elected met
with a son of light & truth &
thus addressed him ]
[Plato] I have had
a favorite (for years calld
a { seere | seer }) among your desend
ants. I’ve watched his course
by means of certain agents
—indeed we of the old world
have had different methods
of getting at truth—. of prophecy
indeed—more plainly we con
sult not stars material—but
a series of causes & effects { w’h | which } lie
in certain foresights—that desend
ant of yours
whose house of
life (for I’ll keep to old terms
[)]
has had given out stronge Houghton: page 474;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 44
phases—not personal.
Ancestor
How then if he remains—you
see me not rid of earth— I own
I’d have him live.
Plato. He
will—but an { elipse | eclipse } threatens
his path—in it lurks a spirit!
who has been permitted to tri
umph over the race { byond | beyond } the
old king you calvinists use to fear

[Ancestor] Ah mean you that! Pl. that
or the genius of the peculiarly
good will translate one whom
the order of things has connected
with him.
Ances. Is it one whom
your former coterie or mine will ad
mit?
 Pl. Both both—a natural
taste for what is fine in spriit
ualism & what is infinite in { xian | christian }
practice.
Anc. Would she could go
on with your boy.
Pl. No better
not—a mind not well balenced Houghton: page 475b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 44
thrown between antagonist ob
jects & affections is like the
ocean in a tempest where seas
& winds contend—her place is
not found on earth I hope.

Anc. But the youth—will
he stand firm in mind &
virtue?
Pl. Yes! he will in
both if I can read the cypher
I gained in a place where the
benvolent & curious spend ages
in casting the horoscopes of those dis
tniguished by nature or event—
Yes he will come out of all
manner of eclipses & illusions &
his ages be as the noon day.
& remember his ills no more”—

And I do expect to realise that
I have done before—lead the young
aspirant
to the reason & worth
of the emblem of sorrow & love he
has adopted & promis to him
the seasone of a great possesion!
Houghton: page 475;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 44
{Handwritten addition: 2124} end of handwritten addition
Waldos [b]erth day

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 43), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Undated; editors speculate that this is an early Almanack, probably from the 18teens or earlier. Location unknown. Four manuscript sheets of cream, unlined paper; tops of leaves appear to have been unevenly torn in places from larger sheets. Some sheets bear evidence of possible needle marks.

Three (or possibly only two) pages in this Almanack contain numerals in the top left or top right corners that appear to function as page numbers. Based on the flow of the sources MME is quoting, our pagination system differs from hers by one page; as with many of the Almanacks, Folder 43 may have originally included one or more pages in addition to the eight presented here.

Although this Almanack is undated, its contents and the materiality of the manuscript suggest that the folder dates from the early 1800s, possibly from the 18teens. Throughout the first seven pages of the text MME routinely uses the long s (represented by the character “ſ”) as well as “y” to abbreviate “th” (i.e., “yt” for “that,” “ye” for “the”), a common practice for her in the early 1800s. Further evidence for this possibly early attribution is the presence of the long s in the letters MME (writing as “Constance”) published with her friend Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck (writing as “Cornelia”) in The Monthly Anthology in 1804 and 1805. Finally, this tentative dating finds support in MME’s commonplace sources within this Almanack: all are books she first read as a young woman.

In Almanack, Folder 43 MME quotes extensively and selectively from, and occasionally misquotes and alters the wording or meaning of, three sources. Two are philosophical works: Jacques Necker, Of the Importance of Religious Opinions (1791); and Robert Fellowes, Picture of Christian Philosophy (1800); one is a popular novel by the French author Bernardin de St. Pierre, Paul and Virginia: An Indian Story (first English edition, 1789). In a departure from her use of sources in most Almanacks, in Folder 43 MME quotes almost verbatim from these works, with little to none of her typical back and forth dialogue with the authors. On the one hand, the fact that she quotes Necker (the father of Germaine de Stäel, an author MME highly regards) so zealously and carefully may reflect her respect for this author; yet on the other, her similar care with the remaining two sources is equally faithful, if not as comprehensibly quoted.

Excerpts from Necker occupy slightly more than six of these eight pages. MME quotes at length from Religious Opinions: chapter three, “An Objection Drawn from our Natural Dispositions to Goodness”; chapter four, “An Objection Drawn from the Good Conduct of Many Irreligious Men”; chapter five, “The Influence of Religious Principles on Our Happiness”; chapter six, “The Same Subject Continued. The Influence of Virtue on Happiness”; chapter eight, “An Objection Drawn from the Wars and from the Commotions which Religion Has Given Rise to”; chapter eleven, “That the Single Idea of a God is a Sufficient Support of Morality”; chapter twelve, “That There Is a God”; and chapter fourteen, “The Same Subject [as chapters twelve and thirteen] Continued.” Not surprising for a writer who perpetually searches for theological confirmation of her central belief, MME excerpts extensively from Necker’s discussion in chapter twelve of the existence of a divine being. However, her citations from this and chapter fourteen also present more paraphrasing and repurposing of Necker’s text such that it conforms with her own views. She replaces Necker’s “honest man [who] often languishes in despondency and obscurity” with the concept of “virtue” itself that “often languishes.” In place of Necker’s positing that there is “in the mind of man the first evidence, a faint shadow of the perfection which we must attribute to the Creator of the universe,” MME is resolute in asserting “there exists a Sovereign Intelligiene [sic].” MME had read Necker’s Importance of Religious Opinions at least by 14 February 1819, when at age 44 she praised it to her nephew William Emerson: “Neckar ‘on religious opinions’ has said the best things in a political and moral view on the sabbath” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 119).

The Necker quotations are followed by extracts from a book that a much younger MME had enjoyed reading, possibly as an adolescent, Bernardin de St. Pierre’s Paul and Virginia, an Enlightenment-era romance, which ends tragically, depicting a boy and a girl raised in the natural paradise of Mauritius. In an unpublished manuscript notebook entitled “Marys Remains,” a volume in which we believe MME authored verse sequences on love, a beloved home with children, paternal loss, and other romantic subjects, the first line of text reads “Supposed to have been written by Paul after the death of Virginia, at midnight.” What follows is a poem illustrating the pastoral setting of the story, with such descriptions as the “murmering [sic] brook [that] would sing its lullaby,” “roving wind,” “watchful moon or twinkling star,” and “fairest flowers” (“Marys Remains,” Ralph Waldo Emerson journals and notebooks, MS Am 1280H [160], vol. 170, Houghton Library, Harvard University, courtesy of the Ralph Waldo Emerson Memorial Association). In this early notebook filled with seemingly original, conventionally sentimental, and occasionally autobiographical verse, MME quotes from and paraphrases several pages in this novel that present the story’s overriding dichotomy of a childhood raised in nature versus one spent in the despoiling materialism of wealth and civilization. In Almanack, Folder 43 MME attends to the social thesis of the book, rather than to its child romance: “Every thing considered then, which state do you conceive to be preferable, that of having nothing to hope for, and all to fear, or, that of having nothing to fear, and every thing to hope for? The first of these states is that of the rich; the second, that of the poor.” Her correspondence shows that MME was also familiar with what Nancy Craig Simmons terms the author’s “unorthodox geological theory,” a concept to which MME alludes in an 1824 letter to nephew Waldo Emerson. Referring to St. Pierre’s notion of the origin of ice melting at the earth’s poles and the production of rainbows, she reminds Waldo that “the triple bow was never seen before the deluge. . . There were no rains in those reigions [sic], nor none heavy enow, to give the binding of that flowery verge before the alteration w’h [which] the flood caused. St. Pierre’s theory favors this, if I remember” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 184n7, 183).

The final two pages of Almanack, Folder 43 present MME quoting from the natural history of Robert Fellowes’s Picture of Christian Philosophy, specifically his theory of the materiality of consciousness, in which Fellowes claims to “readily believe that ideas are fibrous motions of the organs of sense.” Much earlier, in Almanack, Folder 1, MME had critiqued as Fellowes’s “errors” both his deism and his claim that Christians can live in a sinful world and not be tainted by it.

Throughout Almanack, Folder 43, we have relied often on the above sources to supply text that is missing or unclear. The first six pages of Almanack, Folder 43 exhibit an upright and compressed script with little space on the page, resonant with MME’s younger penmanship. The final two pages, however, display considerably lighter ink with expansively spaced letters and overall resembling her later hand. MME’s writing throughout all pages of this Almanack is quite difficult, including (as discussed above) frequent use on the first seven pages of the long s (ſ) and lower case “y” to abbreviate “th,” resulting in several instances of “ye” and “yt” for “the,” “these,” and “that.” In one anomaly (the first lower case “s” in “misteries” on page 5), MME appears to overwrite a long s with an “s”; we have normalized this character to “s.”

A few distinguishing consistencies of MME’s hand in this Almanack are that lower case “s” and “r” are often indistinguishable, with both formed as straight lines (i.e., “s” in “constitute” on page 5); lower case “o” is often articulated slenderly, sometimes appearing as a straight line (i.e., “o” in “should” on page 3, in “God” and “tho’ts” on page 5); the cross of lower case “t” is frequently extended across a word(s), such that letters in preceding or following words can be mistaken for “t” (i.e., “k” in “awakens” preceding “It” on page 3); lower case “y” and “g” are at times produced without their characteristic in-line loop (i.e., “continually” on page 5); and lower case “u” is fashioned with a single stroke that resembles an “i” (i.e., two instances of “u” in “obscurity” on page 4). Many letters are consistently illegible or poorly shaped, as, for example, lower case “d,” which MME often delineates with a multi-directional upstroke that ends in an ornate but meaningless flourish (i.e., “foundation” and “interested” on page 1). Pages 7 and 8 present a strikingly different, and likely later, hand and offer no instances of the long s; page 7 reflects only one example of the y-abbreviation. One recurring formation that does appear on these pages is “br” combinations that often share a stroke (“fibre” on page 7, several instances of “fibers” and one of “brain” on page 8).

Another common phenomenon in this Almanack is the elision of word spaces such that, for example, “virtue to” on page 2, “create respect” on page 4, “yes we” and “am equally” on page 5 read as one word. Also complicating a clear reading is MME’s formatting of lower case “g,” which often reflects a final stroke that loops in the opposite direction from her usual practice and thereby at times interferes with our construal of the word on the line below. These pages also include several blots that obscure the text, as we report in the textual notes throughout. Examples of this situation are “other” on page 3, where “th” are covered by the blotted downstroke of the “y” on the above line. At times, it seems but is not certain that dashes and blots at the beginning of a line are residual strokes from ending lines on the formerly attached verso. Additionally, what we report as hyphens are in some places made with very faint or dry strokes. Finally of interest is MME’s drawing at the very end of this Almanack. Just after the final line on page 8 appears a small heart-shaped sketch, an enhancement that could simply represent a very ornate flourish of the “y” from the preceding line, but does not clearly serve such a purpose.

Almanack, Folder 43 presents an uncharacteristic example of MME’s quoting precisely from three sources that she knows well; it also displays her handwriting practices from both early and late in life. Considered alongside her early compositions in “Marys Remains,” it equally demonstrates her evolution from a young girl with more conventionally feminine interests in romance and familial traditions to a proudly single woman who found multiple uses for commonplacing from her reading, including the development of independent interests in philosophy, theology, social concerns, and science as well as engagement with public-sphere discourse. Likewise, this undated but early Almanack represents an important bridge to later Almanacks, in which MME demonstrates increasingly sophisticated intertextual gestures and, thereby, continued advancement as a writer and an intellectual.

Houghton: page 479;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
It is nessary { yt | that }, in order to attach intelligent beings to { ye | the } love of vertue & { respet | respect }
for morality, that not only good happy natua[r]l dispositions, but still more a judicious { edu. | education }
good laws, & above all a continual intercourse with the supreme
Being (from { w’h | which } alone can arise firm resolutions & every ardent
{ tho’t | thought) } should concur: but men, ambitious of submitting a great num
ber of relations to thier weak comprehension, { wd | would } wish to confine them
to a few causees. Actuated by a similar motive, many wish to attribute
every thing to education; while others pretend that our natural dispo
sitions are the only source of our actions & intentions our virtues & vices.
Prehaps, in fact, there is, in the Universe, but one expedient & spring,
one prolific idea, the root of every other; yet, as it is at the origin
of this idea, & not in it’s innumerable developements, that it’s unity
can be perceived, the first grand disposer of nature only ought to be posses
sion of the secret: & we who see of the immense mechanism of the world
but a few wheels, become almost rediculous, [w]hen we make choice sometimes
of one & again of another to refer to it exclusively the cause of motion, &
the simplest propertiees of { ye | the } deffirent parts of { ye | the } natural & moral world.
{ Necr. | Necker } on an { object. | objection } { dranwn | drawn } from in
nate goodness
{ chap. | chapter } 3 d

Religion is raised above every kind of legislation, by equally influencing
private happiness & publick good.
— — Thus indiretly & almost un
known to ourselves, all is in perspective in our moral existance, & it is
by this reasoning that, always deluded, we are seldom perfectly deceivd.
— — —thus whether we live solitary or live in others, the future pre
serves it’s influence over us.— — —in short, if all be future in the fate of
man; with what interest with what love & respect, ought we to
consider this beautifull system of hope, of which religious opinions are
the majestic foundation.
Religious opinions are perfectly adapted to
our nature, our weaknesses & perfections. They come to our { soccure | succour } in real
difficulties, & in those { w’h | which } the abuse of { oure | our } foresight creates. But in what
is grand & elevated in our nature, it sympathises most: for if men be ani
mated by noble { tho’ts | thoughts }, if they respect thier intelligence their chief ornament
if they be interested about the dignity of their nature, they will fly with
transport to bow before religion, { w’h | which } ennobles thier faculties, preserves the[ir]
[s]trenght of mind & which, { thro’ | through } it’s sentiments, unites them to him whose
power astonishes thier understanding. How beautifull is the world

when represented as the result of a single & grand { tho’t | thought } Houghton: page 479b;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
& when we find every where the stamp of an eternal intelligence—how
pleasing to live with the sentiments of astonishment & adoration. But
what a subject of glory are the endowments of the mind: when we consider this
as a { partisapn | participation } of a sublime nature, of { wh | which } God alone is the perfect model.

And how delighfull to yield to the ambition of elevating ourselves more
by exercising our { tho’t | thought } & improving all our faculties.— — How delighfull to
observation of natures laws—at every new discovery, we beleive we ad
vance to an acquaintance with it’s author—with { ye | the } idea of a God all is
lively; all is reasonable & true. This happy & prolific idea seems as nesse
sary to the moral nature of man, as heat is to the vegetable world
— — —
— — — I have experienced, that the idea of the existance a Supreme Being threw a
charm over every circumstance of life. I have found, that this sentiment alone
was able to inspire men with true dignity: for every thing which is merely
personal, is of little value—all that places some an inch high above other
It is nessisary, in order to have any reason to glory, that, at the same time we
exalt ourselves, we elevate human nature. We must refer it to that sublime
intelligence, which, which seems to have dignified it with some of it’s at
tributes. We then hardly perceive those trivial distinctions, which are at
tached to transitory things, on { w’h | which } vanity exercises her sway. It is then we
leave to this queen of the world her rattle & toys, & that we search else
where another portion. It is then also, that virtue, exalted sentiments, &
grand views, appear the only glory of { w’h | which } man ought to be jealous. A man
with of an exalted character, endowed with { sensibity | sensibility } of heart, { N. | Necker } experiences also
the nessissity of forming to himself an image of an unknown Being to which [he]
can unite all the ideas of perfection { w’h | which } fill his imajanation.
It is to Hi[m]
that he refers those diffrent sentiments, { w’h | which } are useless amidst the corruption
{ w’h | which } surround him.— —with him alone can he renew & purify his senti
ments, when he is wearied with the habitual return of the same passions & the sight
of the vices of the world. By the idea of a God, we associate ourselves to
with delight to the beauties of nature—by it every thing animated
enters into communication with us.
{ Necer | Necker }. The influence of virtue to { hap | happiness }
Virtue has this great advantage that it finds its happiness in a kind
of respect for the rights & claims of a community, & that all its sentiments
seem to unite themselves to the general harmony. The passions on the con
tary are almost always hostile. Virtue inlarges the mind & in
vests it with every thing becoming. Of all { quailtiee | qualities },
the most rare Houghton: page 478b;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
the most apt to create respect, is, that elevation of { tho’t | thought }, sen[timents]
and manners; that majestic consistency simplicity of character { w’h | which } truth a[lone]
can preserve, but { w’h | which } the least exaggeration, the most most trivia[l]
affectation { wd | would } disconcert or banish. This resembles not pride; &
still less vanity; as one of it’s ornaments is, that it never seeks
for the homage of others. The man endowed with real dignity
is placed even above his Judges. He accounts not with them, he
lives under the goverment of his conscience; & proud of so nobler a Ruler
he does not wish for any other dependence. But as this grandeur is in
tirely within himself, it ceases to exist, when he dictates to others
what he expects from them. It can only be restrainded in it’s just
limits by virtues, { w’h | which } do not pretend to dazzle . . . In short ta
lents, those faculties of the mind { w’h | which } belong more immediately to nature, can
never be applied to great things without morality: there is no [other] way of uniting
the interest of men, & of attaining thier love & respect.

The influence of vertue

Should we be able to throw an odium on the sciences, by recalling all the
fatal discoveries { w’h | which } are owing to our researches? { Wd | Would } it be proper to stifle every
kind of self love & activity, by reciting the different crimes { w’h | which } { coveteouness | covetousness }
pride & ambition have
occasioned? And shall we annihilate religion
because fanaticism has made an instrument of it to distress the
human species.
An objection drawn from the commotions & wars { w’h | which }

religion has given rise to
We shou[ld] consider that we do not fix a ju[st]
benefit or value on the benefits we have { recieed | received }: for in retrospecting life we
see it { striped | stripped } of the {Handwritten addition: its} end of handwritten addition { tow | two } princepal ornaments curiosity & hope.—
— — — An
unknown power opens our eyes to the light. It awakens in us to those enchant
ing sensations, { w’h | which } first point out the charms of life. It enriches us with
that intellectual gift, { w’h | which } reassembles round us past ages & the time to
come. It confers in an early hour an empire, by indowing us with
those { tow | two } sublime faculties, will & liberty. It softens the very evils { wh | which } it
spreads by showing us the future { thro’ | through } the enchanting medium of the im
ajanation. In order to exalt the sentiment { w’h | which } { convicts | convinces } us of the love
of virtue, let us refer it continually to the supreme Being; for there
is we doubt not, a correspondence of instinct & reflection between our virtue
& the perfections of him who is the origin of all things; if we do not resist our
natural emotions, we shall percieve from those very perfections all that is
nessesary { suffecent | sufficient } to { exciet | excite } our worship & adoration; above all what is able
to serve as an example for our conduct & principles of morality
Houghton: page 476b;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
5
If you should persuade me that there is an absolute contradicti[o]n
between the prescience of the Deity and the free will liberty of man.
If you grant that the world has a divine origin, why deny that he
takes no notice—that he is seperated from the { ofspring | offspring } of his love
& intelligence? You add vice is every where triumphant
& vir
tue often languishes in obscurity.
One may at first deny the assertion
that forms the basis of this reproach, or the consequences { yt | that } are drawn from
it. These ideas of triumph & abasement, of splendor & obscurity, are somtimes
very foreign to the internal sentiments { w’h | which } alone constitute { happi. | happiness } & mi[se]ry
& I am persuaded, { yt | that } if we take into { consid. | consideration } the whole of life & the generality
of men, we shall find that the most constant satisfactions attend those
minds that are filled with a mild piety, firm & rational, such as the pure
idea of diety ought to inspire. The soul is susceptible of continual improve
ment, & { w’h | which } by degrees that we can have no idea, will probably { approah | approach }
insensibly to that magnificent period, when it will be { tho’t | thought } worthy of
knowing more intimately the Author of nature.— — The conception of
the existence of the our souls, is as incomprehensible as {Handwritten addition: to} end of handwritten addition us, as that of eterni
ty; what a profound { tho’t | thought }; { w’h | which } even our imajanation cannot embrace! The
nature of the soul will always be as unknown as the essence of the supr[eme]
Being, a it is one proof of it’s grandeur to be wrrapped up in the same
misteries that hide from us the universal Spirit.— — — In short, & this is
the most awfull reflection, when I see the mind of man grasp at the
knowledge of God—at least draw near to succh a grand idea—
such a sublime dgree of elevation, prepares me, in some measure
for the high destiny of the { soil | soul }. I search for a proportion between this
immense { tho’t | thought }, & all the interests of the world, & I discover none. I
search for a proportion between these boundless meditations & the nar
row picture of li[fe] and I find none. There is then, some magnificent
secret beyond all that we can discern—some astonishing wonder
behind this curtain still unfurled—on all sides we descover:— How
grand is the contemplation of the Eternal? Those who house sensibility can
tell— But this idea should early be implanted.— it should be connec
ted with our first feelings. Men, or’ewhelmed by the ideas of grandure Houghton: page 476;    Editors: page 5;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
6
& infinity { w’h | which } the appearance of the Universe & their own { tho’ts | thoughts } pre
sent them—seek repose in adoration, { w’h | which } unites them to God more
intamately than the development of their reason ever will.
— — The charm of our relation with the wonders { w’h | which } surround us, arises
from experiencing every instant the impression of an infinite grandeur
& feeling the nessisty of flying to that mild refuge of ignorance & weaknesss
the sublime idea of a God. We are continually refering to this when
we vainly attempt to penetrate the { serects | secrets } of our own nature:
& when I fix my attention on those astonishing misteries, { w’h | which } seem to
terminate the power of our { thots | thoughts }, I represent them with emotion as
the only barriers { w’h | which } seperates us from the infinate Spirit the
source of all knowleg. The transcendent knowlige of some people dis
appears when contrasted with the { incompre. | incomprehensible } grandeur of nature. Man
is made to sympathise with all the powers of Heaven & earth. He is in { ye | the }
immensity an imperceptible { piont | point }; & yet by his senses & intelligence
he seems in communication with the whole universe. But how plea
sant & { peaeable | peaceable } is it.
It is united with the idea of a God that the spi
ritual faculties of man attract my homage & captivate my { imaja
tion.
| imagina
tion.
}
{ Ye | Yes } we find in the mind of man, the first evidence, that there
exists
a un a Sovereign { Intellgiene | Intelligence }, a faint shadow of the perfection
of We the we must attribute to the Creator. What a wonder is our thinking
faculty.
I am equally astonished at the extent & limits of things { w’h | which }—it
cannot comprehend the grand motive for action, nor the princapal of
intellectual force.
I sometimes imajane a command like this. “Go
admire a portion of my Universe, search for { happi | happiness } & learn to love me
But do not try to raise the veil with { w’h | which } I have covered the secret of
thy existance. I have composed thy nature of some of the attributes
{ w’h | which } constitute my own essence. thou { wd | would } be too neare me if I permitted
thee to penetrate the mysteriees of it. Wait till the destined moment,
till then approach me by
{ reverene | reverence }. The sublime assemblage of all Houghton: page 477;    Editors: page 6;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
all our { intellec | intellectual } { facuties | faculties } connects us with the universal intelli
gence. By habit we lose that admiration { wh | which } is the lively light
of the mind & feelings.


Thus it was that these females constrained to fall back into
nature, had unfolded in themselves & children, those feelings
{ w’h | which } are { ye | the } gift of nature, to prevent our sinking under calamity
d[oubt]les it is to the delights of this ardent & { restlss | restless } passion { yt | that }
men must ascribe the origin of { ye | the } arts & sciences; & from it’s privations
that if { philoshy | philosophy } derives it’s birth that teaches us to console ourselves
for every loss. The pleasure of [ea]ting drinking & repose are pur
chased by hunger thirst & fatigue. In like manner that of loving
& being beloved is only to be obtained by a multitude of privations
& sacrifies.— — Add besides to the disgust { w’h | which } always follow satiety, that
pride { w’h | which } springs from { opolance | opulance }, & { w’h | which } the least privation wounds
even when { ye | the } greatest enjoyments have ceased to flatter it. The
perfume of a thousand roses pleases but a moment but the pain
of one of their thorns last a great while— — — Every effect is heightend
by it’s contrast; nature has balanced every all things equally.
The rich have every thing to fear & nothing to hope for but
the poor have every to hope for & nothing to fear.
Theses extremes
are, however, equally { diffiult | difficult } to be supported by man, whose
{ hppiness | happiness } consists in mediocrity & virtue
Houghton: page 477b;    Editors: page 7;    part of Tolman’s folder 46


1
I can readily believe that ideas are fibrous mo
tions of the organs of sense—but there is a sentient
prinipal distinct as the light is from the surface { w’h | which }
reflects it. and as the muscular contractions & the
vital circulations are from the vital principle. The
power { w’h | which } thinks must be different from the or
ganic parts { w’h | which } furnish subjects for reflection—
ideas may be sensorial motions, but the master
power { w’h | which } governs, regulates, combines & gives
unity to them must be a simple element and
different from the fibres themselves. This power { w’h | which }
constitutes individuality—consciousness—ideas cannot
constitute it—they are various & unconnected. It
is this power { w’h | which } gives unity & { indiv. | individuality } to so many
operations of the fibres { yt | that } is commonly called the soul.
Suppose the soul an immeterial particle or very sub
tle ether the extinction of the body cannot affect it’s
powers. Ideas, I suppose, are certain forms identi
fied with the organs of sense & capable of reproduction
by extcitement pleasure & pain volition & association
ideas they may in this case give personality to the se
parate fibres but how unity to the complicated web
of sensitive powers { w’h | which } are spread over the body. Every
idea { bering | bearing } a certain configuration & motion a sensorial
fibre—it seems nessecary a governig priciple—this Houghton: page 478;    Editors: page 8;    part of Tolman’s folder 46
[ma]y be if not { immertial | immaterial } yet a fluid of extreme
[& i]nconcievable subtlety. It may be diffused over the sys
tem but accumaletd in the brain & organs of sense, sympa
thetically imbibing all the pains & pleasurs that vibrate
on the sensorial fibres, & transfering to them an energetic
power to harmonise & individuate the infinity of their
variations in figure & sensation— This by a law of di
vine attraction infinitely stronger than any chemistry
exhibits, might pass in a few moments of time into
other reigons in the immensity of space. The { consciusenes | consciousness }
of it’s past incorporation with the organic fibres of the
human being { wd | would } be carried with, it, with all the asso
sociations & ideas { w’h | which } the senses communicated to it
in it’s mortal state.. If the soul, or matter of consiou
ness be niether an immeterial particle nor a simple
ethereal fluid, { w’h | which } on it’s extrication from body, { immedt | immediately }
associates with other intelligent forms in other states;
if it be solely constituted of the sensorial fibres, it must
certainly perish and be extinguished with them. And
these very fibres may { rivive | revive } from their dust in { othe | other }
organic forms, we can have no hope that
their former
motions & associations will revive with them, & if they
do not there can with respect to the individual
be no continuation of existence. This consciouness may
be the prinicple { w’h | which } St Paul alludes to by the
kernel in grain—& when loosend from the body
will display more vigorous & active energees.

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 44), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Undated. MME’s Location Unknown. One intact sheet folded vertically to create four pages, with three additional horizontal folds that would have rendered it suitable for storage, dispersal, or portability.

In this Almanack, MME quotes, misquotes, repurposes, and otherwise alters her source material from her reading in Joseph Priestley’s Doctrines of Heathen Philosophy Compared with Those of Revelation (1804) and Henry Kett’s General Knowledge, Introductory to Useful Books in the Principal Branches of Literature and Science (1805). The audience for the two sources might vary—Kett’s two volume work serves as a basic reference appropriate for college students or general readers, whereas Priestley’s Doctrines resembles the more specialized nature of MME’s mature reading—but in both cases her selections evidence MME’s interest at this time in classical history. More significant, however, is her method of commonplacing in this Almanack. Unlike her more routine practice of selecting, distilling, arranging, and commenting on one or a number of sources, here MME excerpts her sources at length and nearly verbatim, without independent inquiry or intellectual exploration. Moreover, in the case of Priestley’s Doctrines, she follows and renders his titles and sub-headings. The publication dates of these sources, the introductory nature of Kett’s General Knowledge, and MME’s commonplacing practice in this Almanack lead the editors to speculate that this is an “early” composition, anywhere from the early 1800s to the 18teens.

Houghton: page 480r;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 47
Plato’s reasons { fo | for } a god the works of nature—diviser of season—con
sent of all nations—
He called { intect. | intellectual } ideas only intelligible &
{ wrthy | worthy } of { envis. | envisioning }-– the visible were only shadows of them & changeable
–-their mestireous doctrine of ideas is what we call abstract ideas{ thy | they }
personified them—hence the origin of trinity.
His ideas of God were
good
represented him (not as the stoics) incapable of executing { vengane | vengeance }
Beginning midle end & { surpotter | supporter } of all thingsThe { chareter | character } of
the gods the best introduction to a body of laws. The humble follow
him—but the elevated who think they can stand fall

-–the wicked punished after death. God is altogether simple
he cannot deceive—takes care of the smalest beings—for he cannot
be a wise { Dr | Doctor } who attends to the w[ho]le body & { nt | not } to parts.
Plato { attrubete | attribute }
every art pleasur & law to the inspiration of God to good men

He was a pantheistthe stars have souls because { thy | they } perform
thier motion with order
He distinguished the crime of impiety into three
kinds 1 atheism— 2 that the gods take no care of human { affaiers | affairs }— 3
that they are easily appeased by sacrifices
In some cases of the 2 crime
the punishment was 5 years { impt | imprisonment }


of the soul
Plato as had all the heathen had the most exalted notions of the soul
—it was the man—the body but its’ servant—its’ atte[nd]ant In
truth, the soul of each is immortal, and goes to the other gods
to give account of itself actions—it existed before the body was pro
duced & it is the chief agent in the changes & ornaments of the
body


Virtue
His belief in God { provi. | providence } & future retribution is urged so seriously that he
must be { tho’t | thought } in earnest
In his republick he admits a comunity
of wives—{ pejury | perjury } in matters of love—& licentiousness in the army.


death
on { w’h | which } he was very fancifull—but on the [w]hole teaches retribution

Aristotilean { phi. | philosophy }
of God
[W]hat A pilot in the ship & a charioteer in a chariot that God
is in the world. { Philos. | Philosophy } considers every thing as equal in the eye of God

Still He furnished with God with second causes in { admnsting | administering } of
But what are laws or general rules without a power of agency—gene
ral laws are nothing else than this general mode of acting—this
is { incomp. | incomprehensible } so is to finite minds & ever will be his nesscery existnce


Soul
Dark—{ tho’ | though } it has but little in common with body—no clear ideas
of a distinct life { withut | without } the body

Of virtue vs good & evil
Aristotle { tho’ | though } one of the brightest { geniuss | geniuses } and most indutrio[u]s st[u]dents
affords the world no moral { impt | improvement } from any subject—his virtues Houghton: page 480;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 47
the { lowst | lowest } kind
what was eligible & comfortable for the { pesent | present }
life—of hereafter he said nothing—death & procreation he
considered as natural phenomena—wealth & ease nesscery to { happi. | happiness }

Marcus Antoniouss
All the founders of sects after Socrates followed him in ascribing
to a principle of intillegence wise & benevolent the { govt | government } of the worl[d]

they never { tho’t | thought } with the vulgarwe { sd | should } live with the gods &
that [a]ny one can do who preserves his mind in a disposition to
acquiese in what is { appt | appointed } him.
God sees { evey | every } thing. He { supd | supposed }
every good & evil to come from the gods therefore was than[k]full
& patient
Still his ideas of fate seem at times to { pecule | preclude } joy
If there be a God (he says) every thing is right. This made the
exitence of any thing properly evil absolutely imp[o]sible. Nothing
can be hurtfull that is good for the whole & { evey | every } thing in the { Uni | Universe }
is good for it.
They gloomily considered the univrse not progrissiv
but returning to it’s former state
Of death he says if every
thing be ordered by { Prov. | Providence } I venerate the supreme ruler & am unmov
ed.
The gods either have power or not—if powr then
pray not for the aversion of an { vent | event } but for calmness


He that fears pain fear what must be, & is impious & he who fol
lows pleasure will not refrain from impieties. He as did { Socr | Socrates } { cont | connected }
religion with morals

Of the soul
They beleved it belong’d to the supreme { intel. | intelligence } as a drop of water
to the ocean & that after death there { wd | would } be no { individ | individual } consciousness

damaged as God is incapable of suffering from external causes so they
transferd this powr to man—& this tended to render { ’em | them } supe
rior to { evey | every } thing mean but excluded humility &c &c


of { vitue | virtue }
Exalted as far as { ye | the } { govt | government } of the passions—relative duties—& those
between man & man
independent of fear hope praise or censur
{ Evey | Every } thing foreign to the calmn dictates of reason passions & emo
tions as { beloging | belonging } to the animal nature
sympathies of love or
grief compashion &c. They piitied vices as being parts of the
animal not a man’s self. Consider the injury as acording to
the course of the { uni. | universe } & pity the agent. They never mention the
dis { appt | appointment } of evils & direction of them for unversal good by { prov. | providence } { thy | they }
take them for

Of the ills of life
Their lofty rules { maid | made }
them superior,
It is a mark of the common people to look for loss
or gain external—a { phi. | philosopher } { censurs | censures } none, commands none, complains of
none, never boasts, if he meets with obstacles from his { act | account } he blames only him
self, if praised he laughs at { ’em | them }
if censured he is silent. Houghton: page 481r;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 47
The s[u]n of liberty displayed at the reformation—gave scope
to mind Milton Sidney Locke & Somers
they founded
political schools in { w’h | which } Voltaire Montesquieu Rosseaue { Fraklin | Franklin }
& Washington were deciples
–-let the { Ame. | American } remembr this—let
France rember that it is from hence more than from abstract
priinciples & deductions of reason.
The british constutution has reach’[d]
it’s present { impt | improvement } more not by deep specuelations & {Handwritten addition: or} end of handwritten addition or from the concussion
of d[is]cordant interests & contentions. Before the { refor. | reformation } the struggles
for power were numerous & at times Kings were opposed


The means used to distroy strenghtened the constitition in power &c


The king is wholly dependant for pecunariy aid— —& can only execute
those plans { w’h | which } parliment decrees. The { consti | constitution } includs the three
[b]ranches of { govt | government } { w’h | which } { pevail | prevail }, { democ | democracy }—without confusion—aristocracey
without rigor & monarchy without despotism—commixed—better
than Athens or Rome

Logic
render greatest service to science virtue learnig & religion—art
of forming correct ideas & deducing right inferences—constituets the
knowlegde of mind
what relation subsists betwen our ideas & terms
displays the rules by { w’h | which } ({ tho | though } { imper | imperceptible }) we think, when conform
able to truth—by { cul. | cultivation } we carry reason to perfection

A negative proposition seperates the su[b]ject from the predicate
—as God is not the author of evil— This world had a { begin. | beginning } a { dem. | demonstrable }
poposition—difficult to conceive how out of nothing—reasoning shows
the contrary absurd.
{ Reasonig | Reasoning } In comparing our ideas their agreement can
not be discerned—till by intermediate ones.
Aristote kept the chair of
logic 2000 Lord Bacon proposed the method of induction—viz a gene
ral inference drawn from several particular propositions—added to arts &
{ impt | improvement } of natural { phi | philosophy }


{ Mathe. | Mathematics }
Elegant sublime, induces habits of reasoning & { elev. | elevation } of { tho’t | thought }. From simple
axioms & { evi. | evident } { prin. | principles } we proceed to general { prop. | propositions } & remote analogies.
The { doc. | doctrine } of fluxions is founded on the maxim that all magnitudes or quanties
[a]re supposed to be genrated by motion—a line is supposed to be generated
[b]y the motion of a point—a surface by the motion of a line & a solid by
th[e] motion of a surface. Mixed { math | mathematics } mechanics is a science { w’h | which } treats
of the motion & equilibrium of bodies
First principles of natural
{ philo. | philosophy } are established by the doctrine of motion, by geometrical demonstration
Newton applied astronymy to rectify the computations of chronology

Logomachy
order & time Houghton: page 481;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 47
Genius in its { highet | highest } sencse as related to the fine arts may be called
that faculty of mind { w’h | which } unites the greatest quickness of sensibility
& fervor of { imaja. | imagination } to an extraordinay ease in associating the most re
mote ideas in the most striking manner.

Law
The student { sd | should } be well acquainted with the maxims of the law of nature, the
best & authentic foundation for the human laws of nation—these maxims reduc
ed to a practical system in the laws of of Imperial Rome—if he has in
larged his conceptions of nature & art by a view of the several bran[c]hes
of genuine experimental philosophy.

4 memorable epochs in Greec 1 age of
Solon or establishment of the laws before { Ch. | Christ } 594 2d of Aristides or martial
glory 480 3d of Pericles or luxury & arts 430—degradation or Mahomet
Aftr { Ch. | Christ } 1452
Rome dominion from the Euphates to the
atlantic & from the Danube to the deserts of Lybia felt their power


Europe least in extent superior in laws religion { ats | arts } arms & commerce
2. Asia for its numbers fertility of soil—there the will of God was
revealed & Mahomet spread his imposture— Afria united to Asia
by the { istmus | isthmus }, rich in gold—british settlements Egypt { whene | whence }
of old beamed light, renowned for pyramids—inhabitants degraded as fore
told by the scriptures—the extreme point of the Continent
the cape of good hope the Caffres are ferocious. The north east
divisio[n] of America is inhabited by the people from Great Britain
the south west includes the fertile provinces of Mexico & Louisana
—the last sold to the Amercans

MS Am 1280.235 (385, folder 46), Emerson Family Papers. Houghton Library, Harvard University. Undated. MME’s location unknown. One intact sheet folded vertically, on the leaves of which MME has written vertically on two sides of one fold (numbered “7” and “8,” respectively) and horizontally on the interior leaf of the opposing two pages (leaving the other side blank), possibly on different occasions. An additional horizontal fold may have rendered it suitable for storage, dispersal, or portability. Since the first written page of this Almanack begins in mid-sentence, the reverse side of which is blank and unnumbered, the editors presume that at least six preceding pages of this Almanack are no longer extant.

In this Almanack, MME commonplaces at length from two works—Italian theologian Joshua Toulmin’s treatment of the divine power and authority with which Jesus of Nazareth is invested in Memoirs of the Life, Character, Sentiments and Writings of Faustus Socinus (1777); and from a review of Germaine de Staël’s Germany, with a focus on its exposition of De Staël’s view of the relationship between European countries’ national characteristics and literature in the October 1813 Edinburgh Review. Unlike her more typical commonplace practices, in which MME distills, arranges, and then comments on one or several sources from her reading, in this Almanack she quotes at length and nearly verbatim from De Stael, with minimal additional inquiry or intellectual exploration. The publication dates of MME’s sources and the unusual nature of her commonplacing here lead the editors to speculate that this Almanack is “early”—and perhaps even composed during different years, with the third and fourth pages likely written during or after October 1813.

Houghton: page 491;    Editors: page 1;    part of Tolman’s folder 49 Houghton: page 491r;    Editors: page 2;    part of Tolman’s folder 49

This theory (of De Stael’s) is partly true—is most ingenious & exhibits in the liveliest
manner, the distinction between different of literatuer and manners.
For the priciples of race
is doubtless one of the most important in mankind; & the first impessions on the suceptible
character of rude tribes may be traced in the qualities of their most civilized descendants
But considered as an exclusive & unversal theory, it is not secure against the attacks of sceptical in
genuity. The facts do not seem intirely to correspond with it. It was among the latin na
tions of the South that chilvalry & romance first florished.
Florence was the earliest
seat of romantic poetry.
A chivalrous literature florished predominated in Italy during the most
brilliant period of Italian genius. The poetry of the Spanish peninsula seems to have
been more romantic & less subjected to classical bondage than that of any other
part of Europe. On the contrary, chivalry, which was the refinement of the { midle | middle }
ages, penetrated more slowly into the northern countries. In those less polished reigion
it was more rugged & obscure, & did not descend, as in the south, with that splendor and
renown which acted upon the imajanation of suceeding times. In general, the character of the literat[ure]
of each European nation seems extremely to depend upon the period at which it had reachd
it’s highest point of cultivation.
Spanish Italian poetry florished while Europe was still
chivalrous. French literature attained it’s highest splendor after the Grecian & Roman Writers
had become the objects of universal reverence. The Germans cultvated their
poetry a 100
years later; when the study of the antiquity had revived the study of gothic sentiments
and priciples.
Nature produced a chivalrous poetry in the 16 { cent. | century }; learning in the
eighteenth. Perhaps the history of english poetry reflects the re[vo]lution of European taste more
distinctly than that of any other nation. We have successively cultivated a gothic poetry from
nature, a classical from imitation, & a second gothic from the study of our own antient poets.

Houghton: page 490r;    Editors: page 3;    part of Tolman’s folder 49

7
abov. Christ has a divine & sovereign power
attributed him fully & explicitily
—and the ground
upon { w’h | which } Christ is to be honored by all men is the
greatest & most distinguished of those perogatives, which
the Father himself possetheth, & { w’h | which } can by any m[ea]ns
be communicated to another.
All judgment—to him
and God acts altogether by Him in { evey | every } concern
{ w’h | which } bears any relation to the { Chh | Church } in Heaven & earth;
and the extent may be infinite
if we consider the
extent of this earth or rather of the universe & the
events { w’h | which } daily take place in it.
And I have not
denied that our daily bread is to be asked from Christ
if, provided the prayer or the petitioner has any
connection with the things we speake of.


His sentiments on the divine perfections, original
state of man—fall—predestination & justification.

The eternity of God is nessecarily & plainly included in the
notion of his self existence & sole dominion over us. For this implies
& is almost expressly to asserted that He has no beginning

to possess divine dominion from himself alone, is to
possess it from his nature. nessecarily follows that
he can have had no beginning—otherwise not
naturally but by communication
— — Unlimited &
infinite power, wisdom & goodness also belong to the divine
essence. Under goodness I include justice rectitude &c
—wisdom—a knowledge of { evey | every } thing
that these
attributes are supreme[r] in Him it follows thus; the
Being who possseseth such an empire, must nessecarily be
the most perfect existence, since by nature supreme
over all, & consequently his attributes must be perfet
& supreme.
Therfore as power wisdom & goodnes are
excellences they must be &c
I think As the divine Essenc
is numerically one, there are not many divine Persons Houghton: page 490;    Editors: page 4;    part of Tolman’s folder 49
8
but only one. We have no athority of reason or scip
ture to suppose that { sd | should } take place in the divine
Essence, { w’h | which } can by no means happen in any other.

Numerical essence & such all confess is the divine, is
that { w’h | which } is most properly called essence, some single
individual nature which { ex {Handwritten addition: sub} end of handwritten additionists | subsists } by itself.
{ evey | every } person
is numerically an essence but not { evy | every } persn { essene | essence }
numerically a person.—If if there be many persons
in God, there are many numerical essences in Him,
which { evey | every } one will confess most absurd & impious.

— — I do not see the nessisty (as is generally { tho’t | thought })
that becaue the power of God is imense his essence
also is imense. For the imensity of any attributes is
not of the same kind as that which is ascribed to
his essence.— for this relates to { quainty | quantity } (if it proper
so to speake) but the former relates to quality.
If it
be said nothing infinite can arise from what is finite
—I answer the divine power is so infinite as to
reach every thing possible—some things by no means
possible—the power of God doth not extend—then it
is clear that it is not so infinite, as to leave no[p]
as that there { sd | should } be no proportion between that &
the essence of God.
Still I am undetermined.
The nature of man, before the fall, mortal—from the
capability of procreation—use of food—from his body
of the animal kind & evidently different from a spiritual
& immortal body—from the use of the tree of life—from
the existance of all the causes that lead to death,
before man sinned—& from his being formed of
the earth, & as earthly mortal.
— — — — Man can
not by the light of nature discover the Being of a
God & the truths of what is called natural religion
but that the first notices were revealed by
God.
Aristotle with all his contemplations could not
arrive at the conviction that God governed the world

From the age of two, MME lived in Malden, Massachusetts with her widowed grandmother Mary Moody Emerson. After her grandmother died, MME continued in Malden with her aunt Ruth Emerson, Ruth’s first husband, Nathan Sargent, and MME’s aunt Rebecca Emerson Brintnall, considered “‘insane’ by the early 1780s.” In 1791, MME moved to Newburyport, Massachusetts to live with her sister Hannah Emerson Farnham; after two years she moved to Concord to live with her mother, Phebe Bliss Emerson Ripley; and in 1802, she returned to Malden to live again with Ruth Emerson and Ruth’s second husband, Samuel Waite, until 1808, the year Ruth Emerson died; Rebecca married Waite after Ruth’s death (Simmons, Selected Letters, xxx-xxxi, vii-x, 4). MME occasionally bestowed or dedicated her Almanacks to her nieces and nephews.

MME may refer to Psalm 116:12: “What shall I render unto the LORD for all his benefits toward me?”

MME alludes to Psalm 137:5: “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem: let my right hand forget her cunning.”

MME alludes to Psalm 102:26: “They shall perish, but thou shalt endure, yea all of them shall wax old like a garment: as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed.”

According to Phyllis Cole, when MME lived in Malden for a second time (1802–1808), she “had purchased a pew in [Aaron] Green’s meetinghouse and, along with Ruth, attended church there.” Green was a “Harvard-trained” minister whom MME likely refers to as “poor” in another Almanack entry from 1804: “I could not be reverent tonight with poor Mr. G[reen] ’s preaching.” Other possibilities for the “poor Preacher” in this reference include Nehemiah Coye and Joel Wicker of the Methodist Needham Circuit in 1804 (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 102; Bruce, Directory, 15, 155; “Methodist Beginnings,” 45).

MME refers to Robert Fellowes’s A Picture of Christian Philosophy, in which he states: “The restless longing after immortality, which seems a cheering sensation, peculiar to the breast of man, is by no means a proof that such a state awaits us. For we are so organised, and placed in such circumstances, that we could not well pass through life, without this sentiment being excited in us. Hence the untutored savage usually feels it, in as much, if not more vigour than the civilized philosopher” (Fellowes, Picture, 252–55). MME characterizes as “errors” Fellowes’s deism and his belief in the Christian’s ability to live in the “gay world” without being stained by it.

Annotation in progress.

MME quotes Robert Fellowes, A Picture of Christian Philosophy: “We know but little of the general laws which regulate the course of the natural world; and we know still less of those moral laws which regard the conduct of intelligent beings, and the relations which may exist between them and the maker of all things . . . A moral government is not incompatible with general laws; for if we allow that those laws were originally fixed by a moral governor, we must allow that they were, from the beginning, adapted to moral purposes. Those parts, therefore, in a moral system, which appear to us deviations from what we call the general laws of nature and ways of Providence, may be, in fact, only part of them, though the sight is too dim to see their connexion. These thoughts easily reconcile the notion of prescience, and an over-ruling Providence; for they are, in fact, the same thing” (Fellowes, Picture, 263–64).

MME quotes Robert Fellowes, A Picture of Christian Philosophy: “In viewing the operations of the Deity we are on all sides surrounded with infinity; an infinity of forms, of combinations, of magnitudes, of space, of time . . . The final object of knowledge is, in my opinion, to give us more perfect notions of the supreme Being, and to make us more reciprocally useful to each other. The degree, in which we can be useful to our fellow-creatures, depends in great measure in the degree according to which we can estimate rightly the powers of nature, and ascertain how the supreme Being adapts the train of causation to the end to be produced. The farther advances which we make to the source of all intelligence, to the Divinity himself, the more reason we shall have to admire his perfections, and to reverence his power. Admiration must generate, as far as human frailty will admit, the desire of imitation, and serious impressions of religious veneration must give life to a sentiment of universal love and charity” (Fellowes, Picture, 259–60).

MME alludes to 1 Corinthians 13:6–7, 13: “Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. . . . And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

MME alludes to Romans 8:28: “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

MME may allude to Jeremiah 9:23–24: “Thus saith the lord, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches: But let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, saith the LORD.” She may also allude to Colossians 1:9–11: “For this cause we also, since the day we heard it, do not cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding; That ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God; Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness.”

MME likely refers to Reverend Aaron Green. Rejecting Calvinism and favoring rationalism, Green was known for a theology based on “liberal doctrines” (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 102).

William Shakespeare’s tragedy of Othello centers on an allegedly adulterous wife and was first published in 1622 (Holland, “Shakespeare”).

The extensive letters of Marcus Tullius Cicero, first published in 1483 in Letters of Marcus Tullius Cicero, often discussed political questions in a persuasive manner comparable to his formal orations. In them, Cicero mentioned Pliny the Younger, or Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus. John Aikin’s Letters from a Father to His Son on Various Topics Relative to Literature and the Conduct of Life (1793) contains a section on the character of Cicero and Pliny.

Because MME masks the name of the author of her reading, she may be reviewing previous correspondence from friends or family, such as her sister Rebecca Emerson Haskins, brother-in-law Robert Haskins, sister-in-law Ruth Haskins, acquaintance Hannah Adams, or sister Hannah Emerson Farnham. In Newburyport, around 1805 and 1806, MME met the “budding author” Hannah Farnham Sawyer, of whom she said, “I love & dislike—approve & shun” the Sawyer sisters (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 117).

MME’s reference to “the aged” refers to the elderly relatives with whom she lives at this time in Malden, Massachusetts: her uncle Samuel Waite and his wife, Rebecca Emerson Parker Brintnall Waite, whose emotional health was often unstable. In suggesting that she has “lost the girl,” MME likely comments on the departure of a female domestic worker, a topic that recurs in the Almanacks and in MME’s correspondence. Hiring and retaining household help in the early nineteenth century was a common problem in an era when “nearly everybody who could afford a servant employed one,” according to Daniel E. Sutherland. The tasks of maintaining a home included washing laundry, carrying water for cooking, ensuring a wood supply for heat, and other labor-intensive occupations at a time before electricity and technological inventions eased the work. Sutherland indicates that ninety percent of all domestic servants in the nineteenth century were young women who were nearly always referred to as “girls” regardless of their age, and whose financial arrangements with their employers typically included room and board, with “no fixed wage scale” until late in the nineteenth century (Sutherland, Americans, 10, 45, 126, 113, 103). Like others in the extended Emerson family, MME often sought to replace a domestic servant when one like this “girl” left for a better-paying position. As one example, an 1815 letter to sister-in-law Ruth Haskins Emerson concerns MME’s effort to hire a household worker to replace niece Phebe Haskins, who had been working for Ruth Emerson but recently returned to her home in Concord. MME relates that she has a “prospect of a Girl who now lives at a tavern here with such recommendations that I have partly engaged her to come the 1t of May if you should want her. . . . I told her if she did all the cooking to your sattisfaction without any care she wd [would] have 8s/ if she added chamber work or washing she would be paid. But perhaps I sd [should] said no more than 7/6 for cooking if another girl is nessecary. I intend to go the third time and inquire more particularly her capasity. She is tired of a Tavern, where I believe she has been the only Woman” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 94). As Nancy Craig Simmons has explained and as this example implies in a slightly variant form, MME commonly uses nomenclature of pounds and shillings to denominate early American currency. MME typically represents pounds and shillings with “#” and “s/g,” respectively, as denoted in another letter from January 1815, in which she approximates the weekly sum needed to support Brintnall Waite: “her food I told them would not amount to 3 s/g. . . . I sd [should] rejoice to have you take her at 3 # and to have her among relations is most desirable” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 90). According to historical currency calculators, in 1815, twenty shillings were equal to one pound, which amount equates to 91.33 pounds in today’s currency, or 37.23 dollars (“CPI Inflation Calculator”).

Comparing Christians praying to children asserting their desires to their parents or subjects professing their wants to their princes, William Sherlock considers “God as changeable as Man”: “Nor is it any Reproach to the divine Nature and Providence to say, that God is moved by our Prayers and Intreaties to do for us that which otherwise he would not have done; for it neither unbecomes God nor Men to be moved by Reason” (Sherlock, Discourse, 262–64). MME paraphrases the assertions of Joseph Butler, whose writings about the challenges to Christianity in the face of the traditions of faith were so influential they were taught at Harvard College. In The Analogy of Religion, Butler contends: “Now in the present state, all which we enjoy, and a great part of what we suffer, is put in our own power. For pleasure and pain are the consequences of our actions, and we are endued by the Author of our nature with capacities of foreseeing these consequences” (Butler, Analogy, 87).

MME likely alludes to either Romans 8:16: “The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God” or 1 John 5:8: “And there are three that bear witness in earth, the spirit, and the water, and the blood: and these three agree in one.”

MME alludes to Acts 3:21: “Whom the heaven must receive until the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began.”

MME refers to Joseph Butler’s Analogy of Religion (1793) and to the Letters of Marcus Tullius Cicero, which she perhaps read in a recently published London edition.

As described in other Annotations in this Almanack, MME could be referring to several local ministers, whose churches she may have attended: Aaron Green, William Farnham, Lincoln Ripley, Samuel Stillman, J. S. Buckminster, Thomas Baldwin, David Osgood, Joseph McKean, Nehemiah Coye, Joel Wicker, and Henry Pottle.

MME likely alludes to the first portion of Isaiah 5:4: “What could have been done more to my vineyard, that I have not done in it?”

MME alludes to Proverbs 26:11: “As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly.”

This line is indented for a new paragraph.

These lines are written vertically on the right side of the page with a line dividing them from the rest of the page.

MME quotes from Joseph Butler who in his Analogy of Religion writes that “all reasonable men know certainly, that there cannot, in reality, be any such thing as chance: and conclude, that the things which have this appearance are the result of general laws, and may be reduced into them. It has then but an exceeding little way, and in but a very few respects, that we can trace up the natural course of things before us to general laws” (Butler, Analogy, 236).

Between 1804 and 1805 Emerson and Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck published seven letters—as “Constance” and “Cornelia,” respectively—in the Monthly Anthology, a periodical edited by Emerson’s brother William. See Van Schalkwyck’s first essay, published four months before Emerson composed this Almanack entry, for a similar discussion of the benefits of informed social discourse in the afterlife. Like Emerson, Van Schalkwyck supports her commentary by selectively quoting John 14:2: “In my Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you” (Cornelia, “July 1804,” 394–395).

MME alludes to Hebrews 3:1: “Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession Christ Jesus,” and to Hebrews 4:15, “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”

MME alludes to Isaiah 65:24: “And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.”

MME may allude to Matthew 11:28: “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

MME alludes to Hebrews 2:17: “Wherefore in all things it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people.”

In 1804 and/or 1805, MME travelled between Malden, Concord, Boston, and Newburyport, during which visits with family she likely saw her brother William Emerson, then the minister at Boston’s First Church. It is also possible that MME visited (and thus walked) with her half brothers, Samuel Ripley or Daniel Ripley, both of whom attended Harvard College at this time (Simmons, Selected Letters, 4).

MME alludes to Matthew 6:24: “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”

MME may allude to John 12: 42-43: “Nevertheless among the chief rulers also many believed on him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the synagogue: For they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.”

The Great Awakening (1720s–1740s), or Revivalism, was characterized by “the widespread influence of a pietist stress on religion of the heart,” spawning many literary and theological comparisons of the heart as a seat of biblical ideas such as affection, faith, will, soul, virtue, devotion, life, prayer, or tenderness. Theologian Jonathan Edwards relates the heart specifically to holiness in Some Thoughts Concerning the Present Revival of Religion in New-England: “All will allow that true Holiness has its Seat chiefly in the Heart; not the Head” (Blumhofer, “Revivalism”; Edwards, Thoughts, 10).

MME met close friend and fellow literary coterie member Mary Van Schalkwyck through half sister Sarah Ripley. By 1804, MME and Van Schalkwyck were publishing letters under the pseudonyms Constance (MME) and Cornelia (Van Schalkwyck) in Monthly Anthology. “Mrs. T” may be MME’s friend Rebecca Kettell Thoreau, also of Concord. Her husband, John Thoreau, died in 1801, and she likely stayed in their Concord home to care for her eight stepchildren. Rebecca and John Thoreau are the paternal grandparents of author Henry David Thoreau (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 94; Dwight, Memorials, 60, 97, 100; Simmons, Selected Letters, 33).

Annotation in progress.

The afflictions of which MME complains are tinea infection (also called edema)—a burning red rash that can cause itching and swelling such as tapeworm or ringworm—and dropsy, which usually causes swelling in the legs, ankles, and feet due to fluid buildup in the body’s tissues. (“Tinea Infections”).

MME may allude to Matthew 10:29: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.”

MME may allude to Dugald Stewart’s “Dissertation First: Progress of Metaphysical, Ethical, and Political Philosophy” (1800), in which he details the philosophy explored by John Locke, René Descartes, and George Berkeley that exposes the difference between mind and matter. Referring to Malebranche’s doctrine of occasional causes, Stewart observes, “The chief objection to the doctrine of occasional causes is, that it presumes to decide upon a question of which human reason is altogether incompetent to judge;—our ignorance of the mode in which matter acts upon mind, or mind upon matter, furnishing not the shadow of a proof that the one may not act directly and immediately on the other, in some way incomprehensible by our faculties” (Stewart, Works, 4:237–38).

MME alludes to Joseph Butler’s Analogy of Religion, in which he states, “And from these two observations together; that practical habits are formed and strengthened by repeated acts, and that passive impressions grow weaker by being repeated upon us; it must follow, that active habits may be gradually forming and strengthening, by a course of acting upon such and such motives and excitements, whilst these motives and excitements themselves are, by proportional degrees, growing less sensible, i.e. are continually less and less sensibly felt, even as the active habits strengthen.” Butler continues, “it must always be remembered, that real endeavors to enforce good impressions upon ourselves, are a species of virtuous action . . . when the exercise of the virtuous principle is more continued, oftener repeated, and more intense; as it must be in circumstances of danger, temptation, and difficulty, of any kind and in any degree; this tendency is increased proportionately, and a more confirmed habit is the consequence” (Butler, Analogy, 136, 137, 150).

MME may allude to one of many biblical verses that mention “hunger & thirst” for spiritual succor, including, for example, Matthew 5:6: “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled”; John 6:35: “And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst”; Revelation 7:16: “They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat”; and Isaiah 49:10: “They shall not hunger nor thirst; neither shall the heat nor sun smite them: for he that hath mercy on them shall lead them, even by the springs of water shall he guide them.”

Research in the vital records of Malden, Massachusetts suggests that MME may have attended several funerals at this time.

MME alludes to Song of Solomon 2:16: “My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.”

MME may refer generally to current assessments of the religious and philosophical beliefs of classical Greek and Roman writers, as expressed in several works published around the time of this Almanack’s composition. As expressed by “The Theologist”: “In the most polished ages of heathen antiquity there were only a few individuals to whom the divine unity and perfections were known. . . Among the ancient legislators, so extensive was the conviction of necessity of a divine sanction of their laws, that they always pretended to derive them from the gods. . . . The heathen nations all boasted of their revelations; but none of them ever pretended to possess a regular and connected dispensation of the divine will. Their whole systems of religion being fabrications, and involved in mystery, any deceptions might be practised on the people, who were kept in the most profound ignorance; and it is difficult to conceive by what artiface such impious absurdities, as were practised under the name of religious rights, should ever have been imposed on mankind” (Theologist, “Advantages,” 628, 629–30). MME may also have in mind the first article in this series, published two months earlier, in which “The Theologist” had argued that the beliefs “in inferiour gods” and skepticism about “the immortality of the soul” “received by the wisest of heathen philosophers, were inconsistent and contradictory” (Theologist, “Necessity,” 538). A similar view is expressed by Jonathan Edwards in “Freedom of the Will”: “Such subjection to necessity . . . would truly argue an inferiority of servitude, that would be unworthy the Supreme Being; and is much more agreeable to the notion which many of the heathen had of fate, as above the gods, than that moral necessity of fitness and wisdom which has been spoken of” (Edwards, Freedom, 326). Cicero, whose letters MME is reading at this time, seems to confirm this classical understanding of the gods and fate: “But if our present fate is unalterably fixed—Ah! my dearest Terentia, if we are utterly and for ever abandoned by those gods whom you have so religiously adored, and by those men who I have so faithfully served; let me see you as soon as possible, that I may have the satisfaction of breathing out my last departing sigh in your arms” (Cicero, Letters, 1:26).

Thanksgiving fell on November 29 in 1804 and on November 28 in 1805.

MME may allude to Hebrews 3:1: “Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ Jesus,” and/or to Hebrews 4:14: “Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession.”

The text at beginning of this line is irrecoverable; MME possibly wrote “1806” here to date this Almanack page.

The total eclipse of the sun on June 16, 1806 was widely predicted and studied by contemporary natural scientists. It was known as Tecumseh’s eclipse after Shawnee Indian Tenskwatawa, Tecumseh’s brother, accurately predicted its occurrence based on what he claimed were a series of visions. Eclipses for both April 12 and October 7 are recorded for 1782, the date twenty-four years earlier to which MME compares the present event. (Espenak, “Solar Eclipses”; Edmunds, “Tecumseh”)

MME refers to the poems “Spring” and “Summer,” which appear in James Thomson’s The Seasons (1730). She may have read about the Athenian orator and statesman Demosthenes and several influential courtesans, including Aspasia, Præcia, Flora, and Lamia, in Plutarch’s Lives

At least one final line of text and possibly more is irrecoverable due to manuscript damage; the editors speculate that some portion of this Rollin quotation continued on these lines, based on MME’s references on the next page to Rollin’s "paragraph" and to "eternity," the last word of the full Rollin quotation.

MME quotes from Charles Rollin’s Ancient History of the Egyptians, Carthaginians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Medes and Persians, Macedonians, and Grecians “Whilst all things are in motion, and fluctuate upon earth; whilst states and empires pass away with incredible rapidity, and the human race, vainly employed in the external view of these things, are also drawn in by the same torrent, almost without perceiving it; there passes in secret an order and disposition of things unknown and invisible, which, however, determine our fate to all eternity. The duration of ages has no other end than the formation of the bodies of the elect, which augments and tends daily towards perfection. When it shall receive its final accomplishment by the death of the last of the elect, ‘Then cometh the end when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority, and power.’ God grant that we may have all our share in that blessed kingdom, whose law is truth, whose king is love, and whose duration is eternity” (Rollin, Ancient History, 8:197).

This dated entry repeats the date of “17” from the preceding entry on the previous page.

MME paraphrases from and loosely repurposes several pages of George Turnbull’s Principles of Moral Philosophy“And here we may observe, 1. That the imagination is a faculty of wonderful use in our frame” (1:54); “For how else is it that the remote one receives strength, but by the lively affecting manner in which imagination represents it, so as to render it as it were present, or, at least, tho’ absent, so efficacious, that no intervening self-denial, or suffering is sufficient to retard the mind from pursuing it, with the utmost intenseness?” (1:56); “What distinguishes our senses (i) from those of brutes, is, (as these philosophers have observed) that sense of beauty, order and harmony, with which they are united in our frame, by means of which they are not merely sensitive, but rather rational faculties” (1:66); “On the other hand, the man of judgment or discretion (for so discretion properly signifies) may be defined to be one who has a particular aptitude to discry differences of all kinds between objects, even the most hidden and remote from vulgar eyes. Now however these different aptitudes may be acquired, or in whatever respects they may be original, congenial or unacquired; it is manifest that they make a very real difference in character or genius. They have very different effects, and produce very different works; and they presuppose the law of association. The improvement of the one, certainly very much depends upon accustomance to assemble and join; and the improvement of the other upon accustomance to disunite, break and separate. But there is in respect of moral character a parallel variety; some here also are propense to associating, and others to disjoining. Nay as the great variety of genius’s may be in general divided into the aptitude to associate, and the aptitude to dissociate” (1:94-95); and, “That those powers which, at our entrance upon life, are and must necessarily be but in embrio, rude and shapeless as it were, or quite unformed, may be made very vigorous and perfect here by proper exercise and culture; so as to become fit to be employed about any objects of knowledge of whatever kind, or however different from those which make the present materials of our study and speculation. Insomuch that this state may as properly be said to be a school for forming and perfectionating our rational powers, in order to their being prepared and fitted for exercise about higher objects in a succeeding state; as the first part of our education here is called a school for life, or to prepare us for the affairs of the world and manhood, which are objects far above our reach, till our understanding by proper gradual exercise and employment is considerably ripened, or enlarged and strengthened which is the proper business of liberal education” (1:261). MME’s wording on this page also suggests that she may be reading John Blair Linn’s The Powers of Genius: A Poem, in Three Parts, a text which, as Nancy Craig Simmons speculates, MME asked Ruth Haskins Emerson to lend her at this time. As the following examples indicate, selections from both Linn’s notes and introduction especially correspond to MME’s wording: “Invention is the first part of poetry and painting: and absolutely necessary to them both; yet no rule ever was or ever can be given how to compass it. A happy genius is the gift of Nature; it depends on the influence of the stars say the astrologers; on the organs of the body say the naturalists; it is the peculiar gift of Heaven say the divines. How to improve it many books can teach us; how to obtain it, none; that nothing can be done without it all agree: In nihil invita dices faciesve Minerva. Without invention a painter is but a copier, and a poet but a plagiary of others” (13-14); and Say what is genius? words can ne’er define That power which springs from origin divine; We know it by its bold, impetuous force; . . . Invention marks the genius of the soul, And on the lightning rides from pole to pole (13) (Turnbull, Principles, 1:54, 56, 66, 94-95, 261; Simmons, Selected Letters, 37 n3; Linn, Powers, 13-14).

MME commonplaces from George Turnbull’s The Principles of Moral Philosophy“New or uncommon objects greatly attract our minds, and give us very high pleasure. Now by this means we are prompted to look out for new ideas, and to give all diligence to make fresh discoveries in science” (Turnbull, Principles, 47).

MME refers to George Turnbull’s Principles of Moral Philosophy“And as it is certain, that different textures of eyes must see differently; or every object must necessarily partake of the colour with which the eye itself is tainted: so variety in temperature, texture and mould, (so to speak) among minds, must necessarily produce great variety of conceptions, sentiments and judgments, and consequently of inclinations, appetites and dispositions. . . . And hence it is, that every man’s turn of thinking is as distinguishable as his face or gate from that of every other; there are as few minds as faces that have not very peculiar and distinguishing features. . . . All therefore that belongs to the present questions is, how far differences among minds depend upon different textures, and temperaments of bodies, and physical causes, and how and why it is so?” (Turnbull, Principles, 1:75-76)

MME paraphrases from George Turnbull’s Principles of Moral Philosophy“The mind of man is so made, that the idea of attainment to great happiness hereafter, by the suitable culture of his mind here, is no sooner presented to it, than it gladly takes hold of it, and indulges itself with truly laudable complacency in the great and cheering hope; nay, it triumphs and exults in it, and thereby feels itself rise to the noblest ambition, and swell with the most elating expectation” (Turnbull, Principles, 420).

In determining the pagination and chronology of this Almanack fascicle, the editors have determined that MME likely wrote this Almanack page in July 1806, since on the next page she appears to continue this Sunday series of Almanack entries and also describes going to Newburyport to care for her ailing sister and niece on the first of August. In July 1806, however, the 19th was a Saturday, rather than a “sab.” or Sunday; MME may therefore be mistaken by a day.

Multiple options are possible for this word.

Samuel Emerson and William Farnham both lived in Newburyport, Massachusetts. They likely brought the news that MME’s sister Hannah Emerson Farnham and perhaps MME’s infant niece, Hannah Bliss Farnham, had fallen ill. Hannah Bliss Farnham died in October 1806; Hannah Emerson Farnham died of tuberculosis in March the following year. MME cared for her sister, if not both of them, during the fall of 1806 in the Farnham home in Newburyport (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, x; Simmons, Selected Letters, 35, 36, 38.)

MME quotes from John Milton’s “Il Penseroso”: — The spirit of Plato to unfold What worlds, or what vast regions hold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshy nook And of those demons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under-ground Whose power hath a true consent With planet, or with element  (Milton, “Il Penseroso,” 120-1).

Remaining lines written vertically on bottom left side of leaf.

MME may refer to the story in Luke 2:21-35, describing Mary and Joseph taking their infant, Jesus, to Jerusalem to be circumcised in the temple and hearing Simeon’s prophecy about his fate. Verses 34 and 35, especially, prophesy Mary’s future pain as it relates to her son’s future: “And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; (Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also,) that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” Or MME may allude to John Milton’s Samson Agonistes, which she is reading at this time, and which describes Samson pulling down the pillars of the “heathen” temple of the Philistines. (Milton, Samson)

MME quotes from John Milton’s Samson Agonistes Amidst their heighth of noon Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard Of highest favors past From thee on them, or them to thee of service  (Milton, Samson, 96-97).

Later on this page, MME gives the date as 11 November. The editors therefore believe it likely that the many preceding dates on this page were written in October 1806. If their judgment is accurate, MME is mistaken by a day in calling October 27 a “sab.” since this date fell on a Monday rather than a Sunday in 1806.

MME alludes to The Song of Solomon 5:2, which begins, “I sleep, but my heart waketh.”

Written in pencil.

MME may have been in Boston to visit her brother William Emerson, who lived there at this time. In 1806, MME and her sister Sarah Ripley took turns caring for Hannah Emerson Farnham and Hannah’s infant daughter Hannah Bliss Farnham, who were both ill with tuberculosis, in their Newburyport home. Hannah Bliss died on October 11, 1806 (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 116, 117; Simmons, Selected Letters, 36 n2).

MME refers to a group of young men and women, including the sisters Hannah Sawyer (later Hannah Sawyer Lee) and Mary Anna Sawyer (later Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler), with whom she had become acquainted in Newburyport and Concord, Massachusetts by 1805. In June 1806, MME described these women as “leaders of Newburyport’s ‘beau monde’.” MME and Lee, who became an author, discussed William Cowper and Edward Young in 1806; Lee later joined this literary coterie, loosely led by Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck of Concord. At age 17, while living with Hannah and William Farnham in Newburyport, MME first met Ann Bromfield. The two were associates in the same network of intellectual women throughout their lives and together suffered the death of their mutual friend Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck. In 1843, MME referred to Bromfield as her “antiently formed acquaintance.” As a young lawyer and Harvard graduate, Daniel Appleton White boarded with the Farnhams in Newburyport. While there in 1806 caring for her ailing sister Hannah Farnham, MME described White as her “sole companion . . . in the social table he occupied my attention & shortened my labors.” She introduced White to her close friend Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck in Concord; the two became engaged in January 1807 (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 17, 91, 117, 135, 262; Simmons, Selected Letters, 36).

MME alludes to Hebrews 4:15: “For we have not an high Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”

MME likely refers to Memoirs of the Life, Writings, and Correspondence of Sir William Jones (Simmons, Selected Letters, 37).

MME likely refers to Sir William Jones, whose Memoirs of the Life she is reading at this time (Simmons, Selected Letters, 37).

MME quotes from Memoirs of the Life, Writings, and Correspondence, of Sir William Jones “O thou Bestower of all Good! if it please thee to continue my easy tasks in this life, grant me strength to perform them as a faithful servant; but if thy wisdom hath willed to end them by this thy visitation, admit me, not weighing my unworthiness, but through thy mercy declared in Christ, into thy heavenly mansions, that I may continually advance in happiness, by advancing in true knowledge and awful love of thee. Thy will be done!” (Jones, Memoirs, 256).

Hannah Emerson Farnham died of tuberculosis in March 1807. Farnham, who lived in Newburyport, had previously travelled for her health, including to Boston, where her and MME’s brother William lived (Simmons, Selected Letters, 36; Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 116-17).

MME alludes to Matthew 14:27-32: “But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid. And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased.”

May be written in pencil.

MME may refer to Edmund Burke’s A Vindication of Natural Society (1756), a pamphlet in which Burke frequently mentions the “state of nature” in his examination of social structures and religious belief. By “tow ser.” MME likely refers to Robert Robinson’s translations of the sermons of Jacques Saurin, which she mentions later in this paragraph and which she continues to praise over the next several months, both in the Almanacks and in her correspondence. The “last lay” is likely Sir Walter Scott’s “The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A Poem (Canto First)” (1805), a poem with which MME was very familiar and which her Concord friend and fellow literary coterie member, Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck, “states that she was reading on November 20, the evening of which she spent with MME in Concord” (Burke, Vindication, 6, 8, 12, 20, 23, 43, 44, 48, 49; Dwight, Memorials, 248, 261).

Based on evidence that includes MME’s reflection on the next line that she “worship[s]” on this day as she “had not for 16 sabbaths” and her repeated date of “25” on the next page of this Almanack, the editors judge that this Almanack page was written in November 1806, four months after MME went to Newburyport to care for her ailing sister. If this date is correct, however, then MME mistakenly dates this “sabbath” November 25; in 1806, this date fell on a Tuesday.

MME possibly alludes to Isaiah 40:31: “But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

MME alludes to Psalms 111:10: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments: his praise endureth for ever”; and to Psalms 63:5: “My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness; and my mouth shall praise thee with joyfull lips.”

MME may allude to 1 Corinthians 15:56: “The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.”

MME likely alludes to Luke 23:39-43, in which Jesus promises paradise to a thief hanging next to him on a cross: “And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.”

MME alludes to Luke 7:37-38: “And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.”

MME may allude to Ephesians 3:19: “And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God.”

MME alludes to Alexander Pope’s An Essay on Man Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never Is, but always To be blest (Pope, “Essay on Man,” 3:24).

MME alludes to Jeremiah 31:3: “The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.”

MME loosely quotes from Edmund Burke’s A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful“Before the Christian religion has, as it were, humanized the idea of the Divinity, and brought it somewhat nearer to us, there was very little said of the love of God. The followers of Plato have something of it, and only something; the other writers of pagan antiquity, whether poets or philosophers, nothing at all. And they who consider with what infinite attention, by what a disregard to every perishable object, through what long habits of piety and contemplation it is, any man is able to attain an entire love and devotion to the Deity, will easily perceive, that it is not the first, the most natural, and the most striking effect which proceeds from that idea” (Burke, Enquiry, 104).

Jesus adjudicates “the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” by offering severe “instructions” to his disciples in Matthew 18, particularly in verse 8: “Wherefore if thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut them off, and cast them from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire”; and in verse 9: “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire.”

This leaf has been excised and is now a vertical fragment, approximately 14 cm in height, with little discernible text remaining.

This leaf has been excised and is now a vertical fragment, approximately 14 cm in height, with little discernible text remaining.

MME may allude to John 1:15-17: “John bare witness of him, and cried, saying, This was he of whom I spake, He that cometh after me is preferred before me: for he was before me. And of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace. For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.”

MME alludes to Colossians 4:12: “Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ, saluteth you, always labouring fervently for you in prayers, that ye may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God.”

MME alludes to Mark 12:30: “And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment.”

MME alludes to 2 Peter 1:11: “For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly, into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

MME alludes to Psalms 40:8: “I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart.”

This leaf has been excised and is now a vertical fragment, approximately 12 cm in height, with little discernible text remaining.

This leaf has been excised and is now a vertical fragment, approximately 12 cm in height, with little discernible text remaining.

MME misquotes from Edmund Burke’s Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful“An heathen poet has a sentiment of a similar nature; Horace looks upon it as the last effort of philosophical fortitude, to behold without terror and amazement, this immense and glorious fabric of the universe” (Burke, Enquiry, 297).

Irrecoverable text due to manuscript damage adds to the difficulty of understanding the complete context for this unusual phrase. In the early nineteenth century, as today, gourd was a colloquial term for head; our research has not determined whether the colloquialism “off my gourd” then, as today, meant emotionally unbalanced, nor is it evident, given the missing text, what MME may have meant by such a phrase in the context of this Almanack passage. She may, however, refer to one of two biblical “gourds.” In the book of Jonah, chapter 4, Jonah has reluctantly gone to Nineveh to deliver God’s warning that its city’s residents should repent of their sinful ways or risk destruction. All of the people and the king took the message seriously. They repented, fasted, and prayed for mercy, and God therefore decided not to punish them, which angered Jonah, who had waited outside the city gates to watch Nineveh’s destruction: “So Jonah went out of the city, and sat on the east side of the city, and there made him a booth, and sat under it in the shadow, till he might see what would become of the city. And the Lord God prepared a gourd, and made it to come up over Jonah, that it might be a shadow over his head, to deliver him from his grief. So Jonah was exceeding glad of the gourd. But God prepared a worm when the morning rose the next day, and it smote the gourd that it withered. And it came to pass, when the sun did arise, that God prepared a vehement east wind; and the sun beat upon the head of Jonah, that he fainted, and wished in himself to die, and said, It is better for me to die than to live. And God said to Jonah, Doest thou well to be angry for the gourd? And he said, I do well to be angry, even unto death. Then said the Lord, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which thou hast not laboured, neither madest it grow; which came up in a night, and perished in a night: And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle” (Jonah 4:5-11). Perhaps, in referring to “my gourd—bitter let me feel it,” MME compares her own displeasure at her visiting “Company” with Jonah’s lack of empathy for the Ninevites. Although less likely, MME could refer to a “bitter” or poisonous “gourd” in 2 Kings 4:38-40: “And Elisha came again to Gilgal; and there was a dearth in the land; and the sons of the prophets were sitting before him: and he said unto his servant, Set on the great pot, and see the pottage for the sons of the prophets. And one went out into the field to gather herbs, and found a wild vine, and gathered thereof wild gourds his lap full, and came and shred them into the pot of pottage: for they knew them not. So they poured out for the men to eat. And it came to pass, as they were eating of the pottage, that they cried out, O thou man of God, there is death in the pot. And they could not eat thereof.”

MME may be alluding to Psalms 139:8: “If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.” “Abodes of hell” was a common literary phrase in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, as evidenced by these examples from Thomas Cook’s translation of Hesiod’s The Theogony: “Th’ abodes of Hell from the same fountain rise”; from William Falconer’s The Shipwreck“Such torments in the drear abodes of hell”; and from Tobias Smollett’s translation of Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra’s The History and Adventures of the Renowned Don Quixote“Nor am I, in the least, mortified to hear that I wander like a fantastic shadow through the dark abodes of hell” (Cooke, Theogony, 142; Falconer, Shipwreck, 120; Smollett, Don Quixote, 2:445).

This leaf has been excised and is now a vertical fragment, approximately 9 cm. in height, with little discernible text remaining.

This leaf has been excised and is now a vertical fragment, approximately 9 cm in height, with little discernible text remaining.

MME quotes from Milton’s Samson Agonistes: “God of our fathers, what is man!” (Milton, Samson, 96), in which sentence Milton combines a phrase that appears in several bible verses, including Deuteronomy 26:7: “And when we cried unto the LORD God of our fathers, the LORD heard our voice, and looked on our affliction, and our labour, and our oppression”; and another phrase from Psalm 8:4: “What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?”

MME refers to Virgil’s Aeneid, in which a part of the underworld, Elysium, is reserved for contented souls. The poet Musæus describes this idyllic aspect of Hades: “First then, the divine Spirit within sustains the Heavens, the Earth, and watery Plains, the Moon’s enlightened Orb, and shining Stars; and the eternal Mind, diffused through all the Parts of Nature, actuates the whole stupendous Fame, and mingles with the vast Body of the Universe. Thence proceed the Race of Men and Beasts, the vital Principles of the flying Kind, and the Monsters which the Ocean breeds under its smooth crystal Plain. These Principles have the active Force of Fire, and are of a heavenly Original, which they exert so far as they are not clogged by noxious Bodies, blunted by Earth-born Limbs and sickly dying Members. From the Union and Incumbrance they are subjected to various Passions, they fear and desire, grieve and rejoice: and, shut up in Darkness and a gloomy Prison, lose Sight of their native Skies. Nay, even when with the last Beams of Light their Life is gone, yet not every Ill, nor all corporeal Stains, are quite removed from the unhappy Beings: And it is absolutely unavoidable that many vicious Habits, which have long grown up with the Soul, should be strangely confirmed and riveted therein. Therefore are they afflicted with Pains, and pay the Penalties of their former Ills. Some, hung on high, are spread out to whiten in the empty Winds: In others the Guilt not done away is washed out in a vast watery Abyss, or burnt away in Fire: We have each of us his Demon, from whom we suffer, till Length of Time, after the fixed Period is elapsed, hath done away the inherent Stains, and hath left celestial Reason pure from all irregular Passions, and the Soul, that Spark of heavenly Fire, in its original Purity and Brightness, simple and unmixed. Then are we conveyed into Elysium, and we, who are the happy few, possess the Field of Bliss. All these Souls whom you see, after they have rolled away a thousand Years, are summoned fothirrth by the God in a great Body to the River Lethe; to the Intent that, losing Memory of the past, they may revisit the Upper Regions, and again become willing to return into Bodies” (Virgil, Æneid, 2:162-64)

MME alludes to Psalms 42:1: “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.”

MME slightly misquotes from Alexander Pope’s “Satire IV”: To wholesome Solitude, the nurse of sense: Where contemplation prunes her ruffled wings, and the free soul looks down to pity Kings!  (Pope, “Satire IV,” 4:295).

Our research has located no direct source of this quotation, which may be MME’s own rhetorical query. MME seems to be paraphrasing a common theological argument relative to divine grace in bestowing salvation, the question of free will versus determinism, and moral agency as well as the burden of human accountability to observe strict moral codes. Similar wording is found in various theological works with which MME may have been familiar, including “Man’s Natural Blindness in the Things of Religion” by Jonathan Edwards, “nations under Popish darkness . . . think they can do works of supererogation: that is, more good works than they are obliged to do, whereby they bring God into debt to them” (qtd. in Hopkins, “Sermon III,” 183-184); Edwards’s Great Christian Doctrine of Original Sin Defended: “But the merit of our respect or obedience to God is not infinite. The merit of respect to any being does not increase, but is rather diminished, in proportion to the obligations we are under in strict justice to pay him that respect. There is no great merit in paying a debt we owe, and by the highest possible obligations in strict justice are obliged to pay, but there is great demerit in refusing to pay it. That on such accounts as these there is an infinite demerit in all sin against God, which must therefore immensely outweigh all the merit which can be supposed to be in our virtue, I think, is capable of full demonstration; and that the futility of the objections which some have made against the argument, might most plainly be demonstrated” (Edwards, Original Sin, 155-156); and writings by William Romaine: “All his mercies are covenant mercies; given from mere grace, and given to miserable sinners—not to make them self-admirers, but to humble them—not to lead them to think that they can bring God in debt to them for his own gifts, or for the right use of them, which is a fresh gift—but he gives all the praise of the glory of his grace” (Romaine, Works, 1 274-75).

MME alludes to several biblical verses as follows: Psalms 97:2: “Clouds and darkness are round about him: righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne”; Exodus 20:19: “And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die”; 1 Kings 8:6-8: “And the Priests brought in the Ark of the Covenant of the LORD unto his place, into the oracle of the house, to the most holy place, even under the wings of the cherubims. For the cherubims spread forth their two wings over the place of the ark, and the cherubims covered the ark, and the staves thereof above. And they drew out the staves, that the ends of the staves were seen out in the holy place before the oracle, and they were not seen without: and there they are unto this day”; Isaiah 6:1-2: “In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly”; and Revelations 4:8-10: “And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him; and they were full of eyes within: and they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, LORD God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come. And when those beasts give glory, and honour and thanks to him that sat on the throne, who liveth for ever and ever, The four and twenty elders fall down before him that sat on the throne, and worship him that liveth for ever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying, Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour, and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.”

Annotation in progress.

Annotation in progress.

MME may allude to 1 Timothy 2:5: “For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.”

As in the preceding paragraph, MME likely refers to Robert Robinson, whose wide publications included his translations of the sermons of Jacques Saurin.

MME alludes to Hebrews 3:1: “Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ Jesus,” and/or to Hebrews 4:14: “Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession.” She also refers to Ephesians 3:19: “And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God.”

Cross-written vertically in the middle of the page in darker ink.

St. Stephen’s, or Boxing, Day is traditionally celebrated on December 26 in Great Britain and much of Europe, but the significance of this date in this passage seems personal. On this day after Christmas, MME begins a new Almanack, “the record of virtue. . .the history of a soul.” “Hand of royalty” may allude to 1 Peter 2:9, in which Christians are deemed royal: “But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.” But more likely, perhaps, is that MME suggests that these Almanacks, the written record of a self-educated American woman, are as significant as any royal decree.

MME alludes to Genesis 18:27: “And Abraham answered and said, Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes.”

MME alludes to Hebrews 12:1: “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.”

“Little end of the horn” is a colloquialism meaning “when a ridiculously small effect has been produced after great effort and much boasting” (Bartlett, Dictionary, 403).

MME may allude to many biblical verses that reference the “ways” of God. See, for example, Job 40:19: “He is the chief of the ways of God: he that made him can make his sword to approach unto him”; and Isaiah 55:8-9: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” She may also have in mind Alexander Pope’s Essay on Man, which includes the lines “Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; / But vindicate the ways of God to Man”; or to John Milton’s Paradise Lost, which includes a similar phrase in book one: “I may assert eternal Providence, / And justify the ways of God to men” (Pope, “Essay on Man,” 14; Milton, Paradise Lost, 2).

MME may be commonplacing on these Almanack pages, but research has not located any definite sources for this lengthy discussion of various concepts relating to Christian theology.

Interlined with a caret in darker ink; possibly in non-authorial hand.

MME refers often in this Almanack to a property settlement of the Malden estate of her paternal grandmother, also named Mary Moody Emerson, which included a home and three acres, in which MME lived with her aunt and uncle Ruth and Nathan Sargent. In 1796, at age twenty-one, MME inherited a parcel of this property (accounts differ on the size of this portion) and then leased it to the Sargents for the duration of Ruth’s life, so that the couple continued to reside there with her. In December 1801, MME sold one-sixth of the property for one hundred and fifty dollars to Samuel Wait, who married Ruth Sargent the following month, Nathan Sargent having died in 1798. In 1807, Wait and MME sold the estate for three thousand dollars to Samuel Tufts, three-fifths of which sum ($1,800) were MME’s proceeds from the sale. An added component of this transaction is that Ruth’s sister, Rebecca Emerson Brintnall, whom MME likely refers to as “Mrs. B.” in this Almanack and who also lived in the Malden home, had for the consideration of one dollar in December 1801 purchased from MME and Silas Moody the rights to “the sixth part of all the real estate . . . (viz) the southwest chamber with a privilidge [sic] in the cellar, garret, yard, and pump, with full liberty of passing to and from said premises, also the east part or half of the garden front of the house as the fence now stands” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 4-5; Corey, History, 648-49; Registry of Deeds, 169 446-47). MME’s reference to a twenty dollar gift to “Mrs. B.” may indicate a small payment to this aunt as consideration for her small share of the property settlement. Concord historian George Tolman characterizes MME as “having lost her temper” over the terms of the sale, “as if she had been defrauded,” an exaggeration of the mixed sentiments she expresses on the subject in this Almanack. In Tolman’s view, MME “got more of the purchase money than she was entitled to,” and he blames MME’s “utter ignorance of business methods” and “curiously distorted notions of the matter of finance and business” as the reasons for (in his view) her injured feelings (Tolman, Mary Moody Emerson, 5-6). Middlesex County property records reveal simply the details of the transactions themselves, i.e., the parties and sums involved and the dates of these transactions. Additional research has not shed light on MME’s emotions about the sale at this time, nor do they confirm Tolman’s conclusions.

MME clearly writes “tho” (or “tho’”) and “roughly” as two separate words, but since the word(s) can, in the context of this Almanack passage, be sensibly read as “though roughly” or “thoroughly,” the editors provide both options.

MME may allude to Hebrews 8:1: “Now of the things which we have spoken this is the sum: We have such an high priest, who is set on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens.”

MME likely refers to Alexander Pope’s Moral Essays, which contains four ethical poems. Sir Balaam appears in “Epistle III,” in a poem that describes “the fate of the Profuse and the Covetous” (31). The last line of the poem is “And sad Sir Balaam curses God and dies” (46). Pope’s satire focuses on the biblical prophet Balaam who as recounted in Numbers 22-24, once obedient to God, becomes tempted by money to curse God (Pope, “Epistle III”).

In 1728, Alexander Pope published anonymously his Dunciad, a mock heroic satire denouncing political and literary dullness. As reflected in earlier Almanacks, MME continues in this fascicle to enjoy reading Robert Robinson’s sermons.

Philosophical skepticism traditionally withholds judgments such as religious belief. Throughout her Almanacks, MME argues with the theories of noted skeptic David Hume. However, MME may here regard as “sceptics” Rationalists such as René Descartes, who posit both their own and God’s existence through rational arguments, thereby avoiding the need for faith. Hebrews 12:9 refers to “the Father of spirits.” In declaring God’s and her own existence, MME may paraphrase Descartes’s assertion of religious belief based on the reasoning that “because I that have this Idea do my self Exist; I do so clearly conclude that God also Exists, and that on him my Being depends each Minute” (Descartes, Meditations, 56). MME further claims to be “indifferent” to the argument between the Rationalists and later schools of philosophy regarding whether or not the material world is as it seems to the human observer. Descartes holds that the physical world does exist apart from human ability to know or understand it: “We must conclude that there are Corporeal Beings”; and, “For if we suppose any thing in the Idea, which was not in its cause, it must of necessity have this from nothing; but (tho it be a most Imperfect manner of existing, by which the thing is objectively in the Intellect by an Idea, yet) it is not altogether nothing, and therefore cannot proceed from nothing(Descartes, Meditations, 96, 38). In contrast, philosophers such as George Berkeley maintain that humans can achieve no certainty about the physical world: “All things that exist, exist only in the mind, that is, they are purely notional. . . . The only thing whose existence we deny, is that which philosophers call matter or corporeal substance” (Berkeley, Principles, 114).

MME may allude to Psalms 71:3: “Be thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort: thou hast given commandment to save me; for thou art my rock and my fortress.”

As evidenced in her correspondence and the Almanacks, martyrdom was an important concept to MME throughout her life and one that reflects her Puritan heritage. Several decades after this Almanack was written, she alludes to “the splendid martyrs to great virtues” in a letter to Lidian Emerson and to the “martyrs of virtue” in another letter to her friend Ann Gage. Letters penned more than twenty years earlier to Ralph Waldo Emerson and Elizabeth Hoar reflect similar phrasing as MME continues to align “virtue” with “martyrs” (Emerson to Gage, “c. 1847,” c. 1847; (Simmons, Selected Letters, 484, 183, 373)). Moreover, many religious and literary books and Christian hymns with which MME was likely familiar include the phrase “martyrs to virtue.” Like other devout New Englanders, MME had been educated in the history of Christian martyrs, who in addition to symbolizing “a vision of the true church,” also represented “the associated virtues of cheerfulness, patience, and fortitude” (Weimer, Martyrs’ Mirror, 3). At the time she was writing this Almanack, MME may have especially been thinking of martyrs, since a new edition of John Foxe’s Acts and Monuments of These Latter and Perilous Days, popularly known as The Book of Martyrs (1563), had been published in London in 1807. The common theological “ransom” as “sacrifice” appears in numerous biblical verses, such as Matthew 20:28: “Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

In the context of her continued frustration with relatives over her property inheritance in this Almanack, MME may allude to Acts 10:1-4: “There was a certain man in Caesarea called Cornelius, a centurion of the band called the Italian band, A devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway. He saw in a vision evidently about the ninth hour of the day an angel of God coming in to him, and saying unto him, Cornelius. And when he looked on him, he was afraid, and said, What is it, Lord? And he said unto him, Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God.”

Annotation in progress.

MME may refer to Jean Jacques Rousseau’s Julie; or the New Eloise, published in English in 1761, or to Alexander Pope’s Eloisa to Abelard, published in 1717.

Annotation in progress.

MME seems to allude to a proposal of marriage, which she has refused after seeking the advice of her friend Martha Dexter. According to Ralph Waldo Emerson, MME “was addressed & offered marriage by a man of talents, education, & good social position, a lawyer, whom she respected. And the proposition gave her pause, & much to think; but, after consideration she refused it, I know not on what grounds” (Emerson, “Mary Moody Emerson,” 69). Above this note, someone, possibly Edward Emerson, has interlined and struckthrough “(Mr Austin of Charlestown).” Although some have speculated that MME had at some time received a marriage proposal from Charlestown, Massachusetts lawyer and author William Austin, he had married Charlotte Williams on 17 June 1806 and therefore could not be the suitor implied in this Almanack reference (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 101).

In assessing the Calvinist doctrine of election, MME seems to take the position that salvation is not simply arbitrary, but that God has established laws by which all creatures—angels as well as humans—are governed. By “glowing Seraph,” MME may allude to Isaiah 6:6-7: “Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs off the altar: And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin is purged.” MME may also have been aware that the Hebrew verb form of the word “seraphim” meant “to burn.”

Although the editors speculate that this person may be Bernard Green or Aaron Green, it is also possible that MME refers to another Esquire Green, who is as yet unidentified.

Written in center of line, likely in non-authorial hand.

MME went to Newburyport, Massachusetts at this time to nurse her sister, Hannah Emerson Farnham, who died from tuberculosis at age 36 on March 27, 1807. As Phyllis Cole has described, MME and her half sister Sarah Ripley were Hannah’s two main caretakers. MME’s letter of March 4, 1807 to Ruth Haskins Emerson echoes this same language as she pleads, “Your sympathy and prayers I have for this scene of sickness and misfortune to this family” (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 119; (Simmons, Selected Letters, 38)). Daniel Appleton White’s correspondence confirms his recent visit with MME in Malden, who then accompanied him from Malden to Newburyport; en route, due to inclement weather, the two lodged overnight in Beverly (Dwight, Memorials, 274-75).

MME is quoting Edward Young in The Complaint“Worth, conscious worth! should absolutely reign; / And other joys ask leave for their approach” (Young, Complaint, 188)

MME alludes to Matthew 14:25-31: “And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid. And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”

This mark is not clearly a close parenthesis, nor is there an open parenthesis on a preceding line on this page; but it does not seem to be functioning as any other sensible mark of punctuation or text.

MME may allude to Proverbs 3:5: “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.”

MME may allude to 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, where Paul, speaking of God, explains: “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.” MME may also allude to 2 Corinthians 11:17-18 and 22-30: “That which I speak, I speak it not after the Lord, but as it were foolishly, in this confidence of boasting. Seeing that many glory after the flesh, I will glory also. . . .Are they Hebrews? so am I. Are they Israelites? so am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? so am I. Are they ministers of Christ? (I speak as a fool) I am more; in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness. Beside those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not? If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things which concern mine infirmities.”

MME alludes to John 5:44: “How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour that cometh from God only?”

In the context of this self-critique, MME may allude to 3 John 1:8: “We therefore ought to receive such, that we might be fellowhelpers to the truth,” or to Romans 15:1: “We then that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves.”

As her discussion of the doctrine of election following this underlined passage may imply, MME likely refers to Romans 8:30, which in the King James version uses the word “justified” instead of the very common New Testament word “sanctified”: “Moreover whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified.”

Although no records indicate an official holiday or a fast day at this time, MME may refer to April 19 as a day long commemorated in New England as the anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord in 1775, which are regarded as the first military engagements of the American Revolution. Late in the nineteenth century, April 19 was officially designated “Patriot’s Day” and has since that time been an official holiday in Massachusetts ((Purcell, Sealed, 40-41); (“General Laws”)).

MME alludes to Luke 12:35-36: “Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning; And ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their lord, when he will return from the wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh, they may open unto him immediately.” She may also allude to the parable of the wise and foolish virgins in Matthew 25:1-12: “Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.”

“1807” is written in darker ink than rest of page, and “ennui” is written in pencil. Both are possibly in non-authorial hand.

Based on MME’s comments about having “inserted some pages” from the previous days into this Almanack after her return to Malden from Newburyport, as well as darker ink beginning on this line of the manuscript page, the editors surmise that this page includes entries for 11 February, followed by 24 and 25 April, and early May 1807. MME had returned from Newburyport on 11 April and apparently resumed writing on this Almanack page, where she had left off on 14 February prior to her departure.

MME asserts divine omnipresence with a phrase commonly used in Christian hymns and sermons and derived from many biblical verses, including Psalms 139-7:10: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

MME has come to Boston to be present at the death of her seven-year-old nephew John Clarke Emerson, son of her brother William and his wife, Ruth Haskins Emerson, who died of tuberculosis on 26 April 1807.

MME originally wrote “tarri” at the end of this line and neglected to complete the word on the next line. The manuscript reflects an interlined “tarried” here, with a caret for position, written in darker ink than the rest of the page, indicating her later correction of this partial word.

From [“Propositio]n . . . proceeds,” these lines are written upside down from the rest of the page.

Annotation in progress.

MME quotes from Robert Robinson’s essay “The Scripture A Good Book, written by Divine Inspiration,” published as part of Seventeen Discourses on Several Texts of Scripture. Citing John 14:23, Robinson argues, “If a man love me, he will keep my words. He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me.” Glossing this verse, he adds, “The other is the affecting manner in which he connects together love and obedience: If ye love me, keep my commandments. At the sound of this word ‘if’, the Christian starts; all the tenderness and gratitude of his soul move to meet his duty; he conceives a horror for disobedience, because it make his love suspected; he turns all his attention to render his christian duties just, complete, beautiful, and strongly expressive of the inward esteem from which they flow; and he endeavours to give his morality a refinement and delicacy suited to the nature of that grand and noble virtue, from which it proceeds” (Robinson, “Scripture,” 76).

MME refers to 1 Corinthians 3:16: “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?”

This line is indented for a new paragraph.

MME may allude to 1 Timothy 2:5: “For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.”

MME may refer to the biblical account of Jesus of Nazareth casting an unclean spirit into a herd of swine as related in Matthew 8:28-34: “And when he was come to the other side into the country of the Gergesenes, there met him two possessed with devils, coming out of the tombs, exceeding fierce, so that no man might pass by that way. And, behold, they cried out, saying, What have we to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God? art thou come hither to torment us before the time? And there was a good way off from them an herd of many swine feeding. So the devils besought him, saying, If thou cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine. And he said unto them, Go. And when they were come out, they went into the herd of swine: and, behold, the whole herd of swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters. And they that kept them fled, and went their ways into the city, and told every thing, and what was befallen to the possessed of the devils. And, behold, the whole city came out to meet Jesus: and when they saw him, they besought him that he would depart out of their coasts.” A similar story also appears in Mark 5:1-17: “And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when he was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, Who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains: Because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him. And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones. But when he saw Jesus afar off, he ran and worshipped him, And cried with a loud voice, and said, What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not. For he said unto him, Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit. And he asked him, What is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for we are many. And he besought him much that he would not send them away out of the country. Now there was there nigh unto the mountains a great herd of swine feeding. And all the devils besought him, saying, Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them. And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea, (they were about two thousand;) and were choked in the sea. And they that fed the swine fled, and told it in the city, and in the country. And they went out to see what it was that was done. And they come to Jesus, and see him that was possessed with the devil, and had the legion, sitting, and clothed, and in his right mind: and they were afraid. And they that saw it told them how it befell to him that was possessed with the devil, and also concerning the swine. And they began to pray him to depart out of their coasts.”

MME had come to Newburyport on February 18, 1807 to care for her dying sister. Hannah Emerson Farnham died of tuberculosis at Newburyport on 27 March 1807, with MME and a circle of close friends by her side.

MME numbers the first three pages of this brief Almanack. Since this page begins with “5” (encircled and positioned on a line by itself in the top right corner) and begins in the middle of a sentence, the editors presume that four preceding pages are no longer extant.

This numeral is encircled and positioned on a line by itself in the top left corner of the page.

This numeral is encircled and positioned on a line by itself in the top right corner of the page.

This Almanack reflects MME’s reading and commonplacing of several works concerned with the theological controversy and doctrinal debates that emanated from the founding of Andover Theological Seminary in Andover, Massachusetts in August 1808. This institution was organized by two groups of religious orthodoxy in New England, the “old Calvinists” and the “Hopkinsians,” adherents of Jonathan Edwards’s student, Samuel Hopkins, whose views differed from traditional Calvinist doctrine on several issues. According to religious historian Henry K. Rowe, Hopkinsians regarded themselves as the “Consistent Calvinists” (Rowe, History, 8); they “maintained the doctrine of divine sovereignty, but they modified the plight of man. They rejected the Old Calvinist doctrine of the imputation of Adam’s sin . . . and maintained that every man’s sin is his own personal responsibility. They made less of human depravity and more of actual sinning. They did not believe that God had closed absolutely the door of hope, because there is in man a certain natural ability to obey God’s law. And Christ had died for all men, not as a penal satisfaction to an outraged deity, but as an expression of his universal benevolence. And man should rely on the atoning Christ and not on any outward means of grace” (Rowe, History, 17). As Rowe and others have explained, in founding the Andover seminary these two antagonistic groups ultimately overcame their differences in order to provide an orthodox institution to educate and train conservative clergy, which they were motivated to do in light of the, to them, radically divergent position taken by Harvard College with the appointment of liberal theologian Henry Ware as Hollis Professor of Theology (Rowe, History, 9). The founding of Andover and the publication of The Constitution and Associate Statutes of the Theological Seminary in Andover (1808) precipitated a debate published in several issues of the Monthly Anthology (associated with liberal Boston theologians, including William Emerson, MME’s brother and former editor of the Monthly Anthology, with whom she was living in Boston during this controversy) and The Panoplist (identified with more conservative Calvinists and Hopkinsians) over 1808-1809. This and subsequent pages of this Almanack reflect MME’s reading of these articles, as, for example, with the Monthly Anthology’s assertion that according to its creed, all Andover Seminary professors must swear to be “consistent Calvinists” or lose their positions, a requirement that the Anthologist reviewer regards as mendacious and bigoted (“Article 38,” 604, 606-13). On this Almanack page, she likely has in mind several passages from the Constitution and Associate Statutes, including the statements that “God’s decrees perfectly consist with human liberty; God’s universal agency with the agency of man; and man’s dependence with his accountability”; and that “every professor must be . . . an orthodox and consistent Calvinist.” She may also refer to the “Creed” (32) to which Andover professors were required to affirm: They must believe in the trinity, that God creates man in his own image, and that “the enjoyment of GOD [is] his supreme happiness; that this enjoyment is derived solely from conformity of heart the moral character and will of God; that Adam, the federal head and representative of the human race, was placed in a state of probation, and that in consequence of his disobedience, all his descendants were constituted sinners . . . . [so that] every man is justly exposed to eternal damnation; so that, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of GOD; that GOD, of his mere good pleasure, from all eternity elected some to everlasting life, and that he entered into a covenant of grace to deliver them out of this state of sin and misery by a REDEEMER; that the only REDEEMER of the elect is the eternal SON of GOD.” Additionally, the creed required professors to subscribe to the view “that our salvation is wholly of grace; that no means whatever can change the heart of a sinner, and make it hold; that regeneration and sanctification are effects of the creating and renewing agency of the HOLY SPIRIT . . .; that by convincing us of our sin and misery, enlightening our minds, working faith in us, and renewing our wills, the HOLY SPIRIT makes us partakers of redemption” (Andover Constitution, 35, 51, 32-34). MME may refer to herself as the “calvinistic Inquirier” as she examines the above and other tenets of this creed, but in a broader sense, writers on both sides of the debate regard the free inquiry into divine “truth” as central tenets of their doctrine and view their opponents as “bigots.” Even as she follows the debate between liberal Boston Unitarians and conservative Calvinists and Hopkinsians, MME appears to depart from both in asserting “the sublime and godlike belief that human misery will find an universal remedy,” or universal salvation. By “all are made alive,” MME alludes to 1 Corinthians 15:22: “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.”

MME continues to examine the distinctions between the Hopkinsians and traditional Calvinists, both of which groups accept the cardinal doctrine as stated in The Constitution and Associate Statutes of the Theological Seminary in Andover “that our salvation is wholly of grace” (Andover Constitution, 33), i.e., that God’s grace in providing his sacrificial son Jesus has atoned for human sinfulness. In rejecting the doctrine of imputation, Hopkinsians believed that each sinner is responsible for his/her own depraved nature, a position with which MME seems in this passage to align herself in asserting that the “curse” of Adam’s original sin is “removed from the human race as a condemnatory sentence” to hell. Hopkinsians regard all individuals as “moral agents” responsible for their own “rules of conduct.” They accept the Calvinistic tenet that sinners “will suffer the vengance,” but believe such damnation results from their own sinful nature and behavior rather than as inheritors of Adam’s. In asserting that “the curse . . . is removed from the human race as a condemnatory sentence,” MME advocates more strongly for a belief in universal salvation than do either the traditional Calvinists or the Hopkinsians. By the Calvinist’s “absolute decrees,” MME may refer to the creed, drawn up by the Hopkinsian Associate Founders, to which professors of the newly organized Andover Theological Seminary must subscribe. Although this creed recognizes “that in consequence of his [Adam’s] disobedience all his descendants were constituted sinners,” they are also “by [their own] nature . . . personally depraved” (Andover Constitution, 33).

MME quotes from Psalms 97:1-3: “The LORD reigneth; let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of isles be glad thereof. Clouds and darkness are round about him: righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne. A fire goeth before him, and burneth up his enemies round about.” By “terrific light,” she may refer to the conversion of St. Paul, who as related in Acts 9:3-8, was temporarily blinded by a heavenly light en route to Damascus.

MME alludes to Deuteronomy 29:29: “The secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law.” By “the belief of a final restoration,” she may refer to the Calvinistic doctrine set forth in the creed in The Constitution and Associate Statutes of the Theological Seminary of Andover, “that the souls of believers are at their death made perfect in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory; that their bodies, being still united to CHRIST, will at the resurrection be raised up to glory” (Andover Constitution, 34).

Both the Monthly Anthology and the Panoplist writers accused the other of bigotry and mendaciousness. The Anthologist’s liberal theological position regarded the restrictive creed required of Andover Seminary professors to be Hopkinsian (rather than strictly Calvinist, as the Panoplist claimed) and also “bigoted,” because it excluded other theological approaches or thinking, and mendacious because the Panoplist characterized the creed as Calvinist: “We think it requires no common intrepidity for any man to stand forward and assert the complete and absolute identity of Calvinism and Hopkinsianism. If it were only said that Calvinists, if they were consistent, would be Hopkinsians, and if they were true to their principles, they ought to go to all their consequences with the Hopkinsians, there would be some plausibility in the proposition. But to risk their whole cause on their ability to show, that the Hopkinsians maintain only the principles acknowledged and defended in the writings and standards of Calvinism, we think can proceed only from absolute desperation.” The Anthologist similarly criticized the strict adherence to the creeds required of its professors by the recently founded Andover Theological Seminary: “We think that any man, who is not a bigot to his own opinions, may rejoice in the foundation of an institution, even though by those who differ from himself, where these and all other opinions are to be fairly and freely examined; and yet with perfect consistency condemn a seminary, from which all freedom of inquiry, at least in the instructors, must be for ever excluded” (“Defence: Of the Review,” 198, 195). Continuing to insist that its “Creed is strictly Calvinistic(“Review February,” 416) and that the liberal Anthologists were the hypocrites, the Panoplist responded: “The very men, who affect this indifference [to doctrines of revelation], and maintain its necessity in religion, are among the greatest bigots to their own modes of thinking, and commonly the most illiberal in their opposition to those, who differ from them” (“Review March,” 477). MME may refer to herself or the author of this review as “uninitiated” into the “truth” of the Hopkinsian position; in either case she seems to advocate for truth over bigotry.

MME may be commonplacing from Jane West’s Letters to a Young Lady: “‘Heresies,’ as the venerable Bishop Horne observes, ‘however defeated, however triumphantly answered, are only conquered for a time. They seem to make their periodical revolutions in the church, like comets in the heavens, now disappearing, and now appearing again in their erratic course.’ Can this be wondered at? It is the spirit of the mystery of iniquity, which always speaks; and when the old embroidered suit of popery is worn thread-bare, it will dispute in the quaint garb of puritanism. Theological controversy, considered in its best light, I mean as keeping alive a zeal for religion, is even then a most humiliating proof of human imperfection, and shews that we are still at an immense distance from possessing that peace which Christ bequeathed to us” (West, Letters, 2:92).

MME had expressed her restlessness in Boston to Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck White in the spring of 1809, writing that “I intend going to Waterford & indeed expected to have been there almost by this time, but my brother persuades me from one time to another to put it off and thinks Boston the best place on most accounts. And (I dont exactly know how to account for it) I am so indecided, so indifferent as to the place of my abode, that I form no plans and seem to be the most at loose ends of all the world” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 42-43). Her sisters, Phebe Bliss Emerson Ripley, with her husband Lincoln Ripley, and Rebecca Emerson Haskins, with her husband Robert Haskins, lived in Waterford, and MME resided there primarily with the Haskins. According to Phyllis Cole, MME preferred the more rural independence of Waterford, where “Baptists and Methodists abounded,” and which therefore provided a greater degree of intellectual freedom than she had heretofore known when lodging with her brother William, a Unitarian minister in liberal Boston. She remained here through the entirety of 1810 (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 130-131).

As indicated by this note at the beginning of its first page, this Almanack is evidently a fragment of a once longer fascicle.

This numeral appears in the far left corner of the margin and appears to function as a page number.

MME alludes to Peter 1:20: “Who verily was foreordained before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for you.”

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MME likely alludes to Isaiah 49:5: “And now, saith the LORD that formed me from the womb to be his servant, to bring Jacob again to him, Though Israel be not gathered, yet shall I be glorious in the eyes of the LORD, and my God shall be my strength.”

MME may allude to Revelation 4:11: “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.”

MME may refer to the general “human misery” of the institution of slavery, or she may have in mind a specific slave who was executed for attempting to run away or to assist another slave in doing so. Two local newspapers at this time carried a similar story, which MME may have read: On 7 September 1810, the Salem Gazette reported that “A Black Man in the republican State of Georgia has been condemned to Death, and is to be executed on the 18th of this month—for what?—for endeavoring to effect the escape of a Slave!” On 19 September 1810, THOMAS’s Massachusetts Spy, or Worcester Gazette published a similar report but more specifically described that this man “has been condemned to be hanged in Georgia” (“Bloody Code”; (“Summary”)).

Page one of this Almanack is dated 6 October 1810; the reverse side of the first leaf contains a brief entry dated “10” of presumably the same month and year. Then page three begins with “7,” followed by a Sabbath evening “7” entry on page 4. MME often resumed writing on Almanack pages at a later time and may have done so with the entry of “10 October” on page two, giving rise to an apparent inconsistency in the date order of this fascicle’s pages.

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Written in the center of the line, likely in non-authorial hand. Since editors’ research suggests that pages 1-9 in this folder are dated December 1810, this date is possibly incorrect for this Almanack page; this assigned dating may reflect this folder’s reconstructed pagination, by the Emerson family or others, after MME’s death.

Annotation in progress.

MME alludes to several discussions in Edward Gibbon’s History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire: “If the Christian apostles, St. Peter or St. Paul, could return to the Vatican, they might possibly inquire the name of the Deity who is worshipped with such mysterious rites in that magnificent temple. . . . But the Turkish dome of St. Sophia, with an increase of splendour and size, represents the humble tabernacle erected at Medina by the hands of Mahomet”; and “From the Atlantic to the Ganges, the Koran is acknowledged as the fundamental code, not only of theology but of civil and criminal jurisprudence; and the laws which regulate the actions and the property of mankind, are guarded by the infallible and immutable sanction of the will of God” (Gibbon, History, 6 308, 257, 258).

MME may allude to Hebrews 9:15: “And for this cause he is the mediator of the new testament, that by means of death, for the redemption of the transgressions that were under the first testament, they which are called might receive the promise of eternal inheritance.”

MME refers to Jesus as described in John 1:29 and other verses of the New Testament: “The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, ‘Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.’”

MME refers to Johann Lorenz Mosheim’s Ecclesiastical History, Ancient and Modern (1755), which was published and translated in multiple British and American editions in the nineteenth century and in which Mosheim describes the persecutions by Roman authorities suffered by early Christians.

MME alludes to John 7:45-46: “Then came the officers to the chief priests and Pharisees; and they said unto them, ‘Why have ye not brought him?’ The officers answered, ‘Never man spake like this man.’”

MME alludes to a Judeo-Christian legend, mentioned in Johann Lorenz Mosheim’s Institutes of Ecclesiastical History Ancient and Modern, which she is reading at this time (Mosheim, Ecclesiastical History, 1 56-57). The legend holds that Abgar V, being ill, wrote to Jesus and asked to be healed; Jesus responded that after ascending to heaven, he would send one of his disciples to cure the king and then preach to his people. In a standard account of this legend, Eusebius quotes from these legendary letters and describes the subsequent mission of Thaddaeus, who comes to heal King Abgar and then converts many of the city’s inhabitants (Murray and Murray, “Abgar,” 2-3).

MME may allude to Matthew 7:7: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” She also commonplaces from Jonathan Edwards’s Freedom of the Will: “The supposed established connection between these antecedents and consequents, let the connection be never so sure and necessary, certainly don’t prove that it is in vain, for a man in such circumstances to attempt to open his eyes, in order to seeing: his aiming at that event, and the use of the means, being the effect of his will, don’t break the connection, or hinder the success” (Edwards, Freedom, 288). By “Edwa[rds’] system,” MME likely refers to Edwards’s advocacy of theological determinism, which views free will as incompatible with human dependence on divine will.

Due to manuscript damage, the first portion of this word is missing, and the editors therefore report “suc” as supplied from the commonplace source for this sentence. We offer “low certainty” for these supplied letters, however, because the long descending strokes of letters that are visible on the page would not seem to form “suc.” Yet the second half of this compound word, MME’s letters “cess,” is clearly visible on the manuscript page. We cannot account for the discrepancy between the partial letters visible on the page and the word “success.”

Annotation in progress.

MME quotes from John Locke’s Essay Concerning Human Understanding: “Pure spirit, viz. God, is only active; pure matter is only passive; those beings that are both active and passive, we may judge to partake of both” (Locke, Human Understanding, 1 322).

MME may allude to any of several biblical verses that refer to a “just” and “righteous” God, including Psalms 7:9: “Oh let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end; but establish the just: for the righteous God trieth the hearts and reins”; Deuteronomy 32:4: “He is the Rock, his work is perfect: for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is he”; and Romans 3:26: “To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness: that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.”

MME likely refers to St. Paul’s self-description in 1 Timothy 1:15: “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.” She may also have in mind Luke 15:10: “Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.”

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MME refers to Genesis 9:6: “Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for in the image of God made he man”; to Genesis 1:27: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them”; and to Isaiah 63:9: “In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old.”

MME appears to be considering assertions made by William Wollaston in his Religion of Nature Delineated concerning the nature of immortality, the doctrine of providence, and divine intervention in human affairs: “There must be other ways above my understanding, by which such a Being as God is may take care of private cases without interrupting the order of the universe . . . intelligent, active, free beings must be under a government of another form. . . . I conclude then, that it is as certain, that there is a particular providence, as that God is a Being of perfect reason.” Wollaston additionally posits that “Divine Providence and the immortality of the soul must stand and fall together,” in support of which conclusion he quotes Plutarch, “‘If you take away the one, the other will follow’” and Heraclitus: “It is the same thing to think there is no God, or if there be one, that he does not govern the world; or if he does govern it, he is not a good and just governor” (Wollaston, Religion, 199, 200, 208).

MME alludes to 2 Peter 3:13: “Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.”

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Written to the left of the center of line, possibly in non-authorial hand.

MME may allude to Jesus’s model of obedience to divine will as reflected in Matthew 26:39: “And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, ‘O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt’” ; or in Matthew 26:42: “He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, ‘O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.’”

MME quotes from Psalms 51:11: “Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me.”

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MME alludes to a phrase repeated often in Revelation: 1:8: “‘I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending,’ saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty”; 1:11: “Saying, ‘I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last’: and, ‘What thou seest, write in a book, and send it unto the seven churches which are in Asia; unto Ephesus, and unto Smyrna, and unto Pergamos, and unto Thyatira, and unto Sardis, and unto Philadelphia, and unto Laodicea’” ; 21:6: “And he said unto me, ‘It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely’” ; and 22:13: “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.”

MME alludes to John 15:4: “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me.”

MME quotes from Jonathan Edwards’s Freedom of the Will: “If the laws of motion and gravitation, laid down by Sir Isaac Newton, hold universally, there is not one atom, nor the least assignable part of an atom, but what has influence, every moment, throughout the whole material universe, to cause every part to be otherwise than it would be, if it were not for that particular corporeal existence. And however the effect is insensible for the present, yet it may, in length of time, become great and important” (Edwards, Freedom, 322).

Annotation in progress.

MME likely has in mind a word no longer in current use: “The action of receiving or taking something presented; acceptance, reception; spec. favourable reception, approval” (“acceptions”).

As described in the Introduction to this Almanack, this entire page and a portion of page two are written in non-authorial hand.

Written diagonally in left corner margin in green pencil, possibly non-authorial hand.

The word “Galileo” begins a new paragraph, based on the short preceding line ending.

Horizontal line drawn across page above these words, demarcating the non-authorial text from MME’s hand on the remaining lines of this page.

This word as well as “confess” and “afternoon” on the following two lines are divided but not hyphenated at the end of their damaged lines in the manuscript. Since Elizabeth Hoar correctly hyphenates other compound words, we assume that she did so with these three words as well.

Interlined above this word is an indecipherable mark, most resembling a cursive capital “E” with a slight and faint additional loop on the top of the mark and a long descending flourish at the bottom.

The initial lower-case “e” of this word has been reformed to capitalize the letter.

As described in this Almanack’s Introduction, this excerpt is written in Elizabeth Hoar’s hand. She quotes from a letter to her from Charles Chauncy Emerson, dated 1834-04-13–1843-04-1513-15 April 1834. “Thy coat of many colours” refers to the story in Genesis 37:3-24, in which Jacob’s favorite son, Joseph, is left to die in the desert by his older brothers, who are jealous of their father’s affection for him as well as envious of his colorful coat, a gift from their father: “Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours. And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him. And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren: and they hated him yet the more. And he said unto them, Hear, I pray you, this dream which I have dreamed: For, behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and, lo, my sheaf arose, and also stood upright; and, behold, your sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to my sheaf. And his brethren said to him, Shalt thou indeed reign over us? or shalt thou indeed have dominion over us? And they hated him yet the more for his dreams, and for his words. And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more; and, behold, the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance to me. And he told it to his father, and to his brethren: and his father rebuked him, and said unto him, What is this dream that thou hast dreamed? Shall I and thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow down ourselves to thee to the earth? And his brethren envied him; but his father observed the saying.And his brethren went to feed their father’s flock in Shechem.And Israel said unto Joseph, Do not thy brethren feed the flockin Shechem? come, and I will send thee unto them. And he said to him, Here am I. And he said to him, Go, I pray thee, see whether it be well with thy brethren, and well with the flocks; and bring me word again. So he sent him out of the vale of Hebron, and he came to Shechem. And a certain man found him, and, behold, he was wandering in the field: and the man asked him, saying, What seekest thou? And he said, I seek my brethren: tell me, I pray thee, where they feed their flocks. And the man said, They are departed hence; for I heard them say, Let us go to Dothan. And Joseph went after his brethren, and found them in Dothan. And when they saw him afar off, even before he came near unto them, they conspired against him to slay him. And they said to one another, Behold, this dreamer cometh. Come now therefore, and let us slay him, and cast him into some pit, and we will say, Some evil beast hath devoured him: and we shall see what will become of his dreams. And Reuben heard it, and he delivered him out of their hands; and said, Let us not kill him. And Reuben said unto them, Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit that is in the wilderness, and lay no hand upon him; that he might rid him out of their hands, to deliver him to his father again. And it came to pass, when Joseph was come unto his brethren, that they stript Joseph out of his coat, his coat of many colours that was on him; And they took him, and cast him into a pit: and the pit was empty, there was no water in it.”

As with the preceding Annotation on this page, this excerpt is in the hand of Elizabeth Hoar, who quotes a portion of a letter to her from Charles Chauncy Emerson, dated 1833-11-2020 November 1833.

MME quotes from a review of Orestes Brownson’s Charles Elwood: or the Infidel Converted (18401840), which appeared in the Boston Quarterly Review in 1842-04April 1842: “The highest virtue consists in the fact, that the soul is in such a state that its natural aspirations, its spontaneous emotions, are in harmony with the will of God; so that it obeys God without deliberation, without reflection, from its own natural promptings. It is then sanctified” (“Art. I.--Charles Elwood”).

MME laments the loss of her beloved nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson, who died at age 27 in 18361836 from tuberculosis. As with his older brother, Waldo, MME’s relationship with Charles included lively epistolary exchanges on all manner of theological, philosophical, literary, and historical subjects. Her bond with Charles, though, was more intimate and emotionally intense than with his four brothers.

Written in green pencil in top left corner, likely in non-authorial hand.

The remainder of the page is blank, with the exception of “Ezra Ripley,” which is written upside down from the rest of the text and at the bottom of the page; and the lines “MM Emerson 1844,” which are written vertically in the middle of the page in a non-authorial hand, which the editors believe is likely that of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The editors also believe that the date of “1844” is almost certainly erroneous, given that this Almanack is otherwise dated 1855 and 1858.

The words “Tues. July 27” are indented.

This quotation is partially encircled and demarcated from the remaining lines on this page.

The date line is positioned flush right.

MME quotes from John David Morell’s Philosophy of Religion, in which Morell quotes Friedrich Schleiermacher: “Christianity is a monotheistic belief, belonging to the practical form of piety, which distinguishes itself essentially from all others by the fact, that everything in it is referred to the redemption completed by Jesus of Nazareth.” (Morell, Philosophy of Religion, 115)

MME quotes from Frederika Bremer’s Hertha: “From to-day dates not, nor yet from yesterday; but / From eternity, the moment known to no man” (Bremer, Hertha, 308), which derive from the protagonist’s well-known defense of divine eternal laws in Sophocles’s Antigone: “For their life is not of today or yesterday, but for all time, and no man knows when they were first put forth” (Sophocles, Antigone). Whether the lines in Hertha are Bremer’s translation from the original Greek or whether they are the work of Bremer’s translator, Mary Howitt, is not known. Clearly, this was an important passage to MME, since she also quotes it in a letter written to Waldo Emerson on her 84th birthday, 25 August 1858, in which missive she attributes the lines to Sophocles. For a discussion of this letter and suggestive context for MME’s regard for both Bremer and Hertha, see the Introduction to this Almanack folder.

MME alludes to John 1:5: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

Written in green pencil, likely in non-authorial hand and positioned in top left corner.

RWE’s transcription of this entry in his MME Notebook 2 confirms that it continues, uninterrupted, on page 3 in MME’s Almanack, folder 32.

The dateline “Vale Dec. 6 ’46” is positioned flush right.

George Tolman transcribes this word in square brackets, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this damaged text.

George Tolman transcribes this word in square brackets, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this damaged text.

George Tolman transcribes this word in square brackets, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this damaged text.

RWE transcribed these words in his MME Notebook 2, but George Tolman leaves these lines blank, which almost certainly evidences that RWE was reading a less damaged Almanack than the one Tolman transcribed in 1906. As explained in the Introduction for this Almanack, RWE’s transcription of this page continues on to Almanack, folder 32. This sentence continues as follows: “the good P—s were journeying, for sickness of the old irrisippalas invaded—but irritated not the soul. “The good P—s” are likely her niece Hannah Parsons and her husband, Augustus.

MME added an elaborate final flourish to the “y” in “ab[str]actedly” on the preceding line, which may serve as a close parenthesis here.

In this passage, MME is distilling widely and actively repurposing or mistakenly interpreting commentary from Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s Destination of Man: “I need fear no contradiction when I say, that our consciousness of external existence is absolutely nothing but the product of our own faculty of presentation, and that we know nothing more of external objects than that we have a certain determinate consciousness of them subject to certain laws. . . . that in that which we call intuitive knowledge or contemplation of the external world, we contemplate only ourselves . . . that if the external world generally arises for us only through our own consciousness, what is individual and particular in this external world can arise in no other manner; and if the connection between what is external to us and ourselves is merely a connection in our own thought, then is the connection of manifold objects of the external world, this and no other”; “It is not therefore the operation of what we regard as things external, which do indeed exist for us only inasmuch as we know of them, and just as little the play of imagination and thought, whose products as such are no more than empty pictures, but the necessary faith in our own freedom and energy, and in the reality of our actions, and of certain laws of human action, which lie at the root of all our consciousness of external reality, a consciousness which is itself only belief, founded on another unavoidable belief. We are compelled to admit that we act, and that we ought to act, in a certain manner; we are compelled to assume a certain sphere for this action—this sphere is the actual world as we find it. From the necessity of action proceeds the consciousness of the external world, and not the reverse way, from the consciousness of the external world the necessity of action. From the latter is the former deduced. We do not act because we know, but we know because we are destined to act; practical reason is the root of all reason. The laws of action for rational creatures are of immediate certainty; and their world is only certain so far as these are so. We cannot deny them without annihilating the world, and ourselves with it. We raise ourselves from nothing, and maintain ourselves above it solely by our moral agency. I am required to act, but can I act without having in view something beyond the action itself, without directing my intentions to something which could only be attained by my action? Can I will, without willing some particular thing? To every action is united in thought, immediately and by the laws of thought itself, some future existence—a state of being related to my action as effect to cause. This object of my action is not, however, to determine my mode of action—I am not to place the object before me, and then determine how I am to act that I may attain it—my action is not to be dependent on the object, but I am to act in a certain manner, merely because it is my duty so to act; this is the first point. That some consequence will follow this action I know, and this consequence necessarily becomes an object to me, since I am bound to perform the action which must bring it to pass. I will that something shall happen, because I am to act so that it may happen. As I do not hunger because food is present, but a thing becomes food for me because I hunger, so I do not act thus, or thus, because a certain end is to be attained, but the end is to be attained since I must act in the manner to attain it. I do not observe a certain point, and allow its position to determine the direction of my line, and the angle that it shall make; but I draw simply a right angle, and by that determine the points through which my line must pass. The end does not determine the commandment, but the commandment the end”; and “Am I a free agent, or am I merely the manifestation of a foreign power? Neither appear sufficiently well founded. For the first there is nothing more to be said than that it is conceivable. In the latter I extend a proposition perfectly valid on its own ground, further than it can properly reach. If intelligences are indeed merely manifestations of a certain power of Nature, I do quite right to extend this proposition to them. The question is only whether they really are such, and it shall be solved by reasoning from other premises, not however from a one-sided answer assumed at the very commencement of the inquiry, in which I deduce no more from the proposition than I have previously placed in it. There does not seem to be sufficient proof of either of these two positions. The case cannot be decided by immediate consciousness; I can never become conscious either of the external forces which in the system of universal necessity determine my actions, nor of my own individual power, by which, under the supposition of free agency, I determine myself. Whichever of the two systems I shall adopt, it appears I must do so without sufficient proof. The system of freedom satisfies—the opposite one kills,―annihilates the feelings of my heart. To stand by, cold and passive, amidst the vicissitudes of events, a mere mirror to reflect the fugitive forms of objects floating by, such an existence as this is insupportable to me; I despise and renounce it. I will love!—I will lose myself in sympathy for another! I am to myself, even, an object of the highest sympathy, which can be satisfied only by my actions. I will rejoice and I will mourn. I will rejoice when I have done what I call right, I will lament when I have done wrong, and even this sorrow shall be dear to me, for it will be a pledge of future amendment” (Fichte, Destination, 62, 81–82, 24–25). She also discusses this work and praises Fichte in a March 1847 letter to RWE: “Waldo dear pardon my persumption in penciling the ‘Destination’ now & then a sentence of Fitche’s. . . . Many thanks for the two smale books of his Much excitment at some great tho’ts tho’ mystically expressed the meaning applies to the simpel. And his faith (from idealism?) is good. if I comprehend it with my incapasity of head to apply. Happy soul to have escaped & gone where he will find something to rely on & derive from beside poor ‘one sided human nature’” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 495). By “[ab]solute invalid,” Emerson likely refers to a severe and disfiguring recurrence of erysipelas, a painful and chronic skin disease from which she suffers throughout her life. Above on this page, she describes that “cold rides have aided health”; on page three, she describes being ill with erysipelas.” See this Almanack’s introduction for more information about her physical and emotional health over these winter months.

Written in green pencil, likely in non-authorial hand.

This dateline is positioned right flush on the line.

This dateline is positioned right flush on the line.

These lines are written vertically in the left center of the page, likely in non-authorial, possibly RWE’s, hand.

This line beginning with “This 7t[h] lecture” is indented in the manuscript.

This Almanack features several corrections written in lighter ink than the original hand, suggesting that they may have been made at a later time. In this first such instance, MME revises the original “derected” to “directed” by writing an “i” above the first “e,” which she cancels, in this word.

The two final letters of this word are cancelled in blue ink, the only instance of this ink color in this Almanack. Whether MME or another hand later cancelled these letters is not clear, nor is the resulting change in interpretation.

MME’s reference to “This 7th lect” may refer to two different lectures in Friedrich von Schlegel’s Philosophy of Life, and Philosophy of Language. First, “Lecture VII. Of the Divine Wisdom as Manifested in the Realm of Truth, and of the Conflict of the Age with Error,” which opens with the declaration and ensuing discussion of the unknowable apprehension of divine truth: “God is a spirit of truth; and in the realm of truth, therefore, the divine order, and the law of wisdom which reigns therein, shines forth with an especial clearness—with a higher degree of evidence or greater perspicuity than even in the region of nature, which for us is for the most part half-dark, or at the very best but a chiaro-oscuro—a mixture of light and darkness. . . . Even in education there reigns a similar law of gradual development according to the natural progression of the different ages of life. With the boy of good and natural abilities, who shows an aptness and willingness to learn when knowledge is presented to his mind, and implanted in a true and living form, the teacher’s first care is to improve this disposition, and to strengthen and foster it, and by furnishing it with the due measure and the right quality of intellectual culture, gradually to develope its powers. At this age the moral part of education will wisely confine itself to laying a foundation of good habits, to the careful exclusion of all evil communication and the deadly contagion of wicked example. In the soft and yielding character of the child there can scarcely be as yet any question about principles or sentiments. But the case is very different with youth. If at this time of life the moral character be not carefully formed simultaneously with its scientific cultivation, then is the good season irreparably lost, and rarely, if ever, can the deficiency be afterwards supplied. For when this stage of intellectual and moral culture is once passed, when the mind has begun at last to move with greater freedom and to mature itself, the young man is at once admitted to the full light of science, or enters into the busy course of active life, to be there brought to the touchstone of experience.” On the nature of Providence and revelation, Schlegel asserts: “The theme of this Lecture is the course observed by eternal wisdom, or the divine order in the realm of truth. My object is to call your attention to the care with which Providence observes a gradual progression in its mental development of the human race, lovingly suiting and adapting itself to the weakness and finiteness of humanity, and to the imperfection of earthly creatures, according to that principle of divine condescension, so often mentioned already, which, throughout the divine operations in the world, and His influence on man, is distinctly visible. Thus, then, in the knowledge immediately imparted to man by a higher providence we may discern a preliminary period—a previous illumination, in order to re-open the eye of man, which heathenism had blinded to the truth, that it might be able to see and discern God. This first step of revelation was little more than a preparation for the future; but the second was, or has been, an illumination of the soul—a vital renewal of it—a total conversion of it from the state of darkness to the Everlasting Light and the Sun of Righteousness. But in this living development of the highest life, which is even the divine light of the Spirit, the third and last step (which indeed commences in and is involved in the second, even as it also had its germ in the first) is the full enlightenment of the spirit or mind. And accordingly this full revelation is in Scripture itself, as being the close and completion of the whole, expressly described, and named the last time. . . . It were not difficult to show how through the first two millenniums and a half, or five-and-twenty centuries, a higher providence and divine guidance was ever quietly carrying on these luminous threads of original truth, and from time to time renewing them. But this history of the human mind in the primeval world, however highly attractive, would take us out of our proper limits. Upon the eclipse of man’s soul, when spiritual darkness universally prevailed, the senses originally open to a higher light were closed against it. His better perceptions were overwhelmed or buried beneath a chaos of true and false or half-true images and symbols. Then it was that the natural law of spiritual development commenced in its full force. It followed the progression already described. In the first term the numbed and deadened sense had to be awakened and quickened again, and in its second the soul renewed, purified, and converted, before either could become susceptible of the full and perfect illumination of the Spirit. To trace this natural law in the human consciousness and in the divine education of mankind, and to ascertain the progressive steps in the divine revelations, expressly given and designed to effect that gradual development, is the object of the present Lecture.” Finally, his parsing of the nature of truth seems resonant with MME’s understanding of “truths coeval with & developing the intuiteons of the heart”: “An intellectual conflict about truth, and indeed about divine truth, is the struggle of our age. This fact is already seen and admitted by a few, but ere long it will be still more generally acknowledged. God is a spirit of truth; and even on this account is His adversary, the spirit of contradiction, termed “a liar from the beginning;” and, of all the powerful instruments and wicked devices of that evil one, the lie is the first and chiefest. . . . My heart’s wish, therefore, is that all the truly pious and well-wishers of truth, on whichever side of the two sides of the now divided faith they may stand, would unite together without sacrificing those more intimate differences which cannot at present be got rid of or reconciled, and, making a righteous peace of mutual forbearance, join together in a firm alliance against the common enemy of all truth and all faith.” Perhaps giving rise to MME’s admiration for the “true and ever honored genius like Dante Columbus,” in other lectures in this volume, Schlegel praises Dante as a “poet . . . deeply versed in theology” and admires Christopher Columbus for his “bold conception” and for the “faith” that inspired Columbus to embark on the voyage that led to the Americas and “thereby opened a new era in the history of science and man.” From “Lecture VII” in the “Philosophy of Language,” several passages resonate with MME’s commentary. In respect to MME’s enthusiasm about the powerful rhetoric of the “7th lecture,” the “intuiteons of the heart,” Schlegel points to the importance of “man’s inmost feelings and experiences” to infuse language with truth: “In this, as in every other case of profound internal emotion, it is extremely difficult to find the right word for it, the exact appropriate term which happily seizes and vividly expresses its essential character. Accordingly, in philosophy—so long, at least, as it proceeds from this fundamental principle of life and a living feeling—I think it best not to shackle our thoughts and notions by the fetters of a rigidly fixed and unchangeable terminology. . . . We must seek . . . the greatest possible variety of expression, availing ourselves of all the riches of language in the copious diversity of scientific, and even of poetical and figurative diction, and not refusing to borrow the terms of society or any sphere of life. For our first endeavour must be to keep our exposition vivid throughout. . . For as the living philosophy is a higher and clearer consciousness, or a self-conscious knowledge—a sort of second consciousness within the ordinary one—it requires for its indication and exposition, as it were, a language within language; only the latter can never be a system of lifeless formulas, but must even be in the highest degree vivid and flexible. . . . This is a point which appears to me to be most intimately connected and mixed up with the very essence and spirit of scientific truth. . . . The test of the scientific correctness of a true method of thought, which must ever be living and vivid, is an internal one. It is independent of all such little and external matters, and it can even exist unimpaired alongside of many apparent irregularities. Here the case is nearly the same as with actual conversation. In both alike, when we would express ourselves on any grave point of feeling, and clothe it in such language as is likely to gain the concurrence of others, or by making it clear, to enforce it upon the general conviction, we feel it perfectly allowable to follow whatever course may seem most convenient. . . . I shall therefore, I think, be justified if I follow the same course in these Lectures, which it is may wish should leave on your minds the impression of an internal dialogue. . . . The most vivid diction, even the best and most felicitous, falls always far short of feeling. ‘Feeling is everything’—the full centre of the inner life, the point from which philosophy sets out, and to which it invariably returns. We might call it, if such an every-day expression would not sound and strike us as strange, the quintessence of the consciousness.” In addition are the lecture’s discussion of “faith, hope, and love or charity . . . [which] constitute the grand harmony of that higher intelligent feeling which leads to science and also to religion . . . That in which all these three grades of feeling are most perfectly united, blended and fused together, is enthusiasm. All genuine enthusiasm is based on some exalted and elevating faith: it is a form and species of the higher love, and involves in itself a grand and divine hope. And this is true of genuine patriotism, and of artistic enthusiasm, no less than of the religious, which is most akin to scientific.” Finally, Schlegel parses the uncertainty of the scientific method: “Now the next problem which properly comes before us in this place of our exposition of the human mind, and of the degree of certainty which is attainable by it, is accurately to determine and to indicate the true intrinsic essence of science. What, then, is it to know? How is it brought about and accomplished? In the next place, it will be necessary to explain the origin of error, which is ever opposing science, often imperceptibly deluding or undermining and destroying our convictions. This will then enable us to solve the questions and difficulties suggested by doubt in general, after we have once ascertained the place which is to be assigned to it in the human mind. And thus we shall at last be able to determine completely, precisely, and satisfactorily, the relation in which faith and enthusiasm, love and revelation, stand to science.” MME is likely also to have shared Schlegel’s view as to the purpose of education: “All teaching, therefore, or communication of philosophy, has properly no other end and aim than to furnish a vivid impulse to self-reflection” (Schlegel, Philosophy of Life and Language, 141-42, 143-44, 146, 158-59, 161-62, 34, 513, 483, 484, 485, 486, 487, 489, 492, 494, 500). For MME, Schlegel’s lectures seem to supersede John Morell’s conclusion in “On Certitude,” chapter 10 in The Philosophy of Religion, in which he lays out his epistemological theory that “there are two forms of knowing proper to man . . . these are denoted by what we have termed the logical and the intuitional faculties. . . . Certitude, therefore, as arising from the legitimate action of the faculties, may be of three kinds; it may be purely logical, or purely intuitional, or a mixed result of both” (Morell, Philosophy of Religion, 299). A few years before the date of this Almanack, MME discusses reading Morell’s On the Philosophical Tendencies of the Age to her friend Sarah Alden Bradford Ripley: “Much as I like Morrell want no ‘scientific’ grounds of the certitude of my knowledge—better like his views of the ‘intuitions’” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 512). Here she may have in mind Morell’s assertion that “the principle of certitude, is by no means objective, but is strictly subjective; it is a test residing in human nature itself, and not in the outward validity of any supernatural communications. In a word, in whatever way you seek to verify your traditions, in whatever way you attempt to separate the true from the false, it always turns out that the final principle of evidence is of a rational nature; that the verity of the tradition, therefore, necessarily reposes in some sense of other upon the authority of the human reason” (Morell, Philosophical Tendencies, 134).

MME quotes from John Morell’s Philosophy of Religion: “The great spheres to which our intuitions are directed, are those of the beautiful, the good, and the true,—and corresponding to these are three classes of emotions, the aesthetical, the moral, and those hitherto unnamed heavings of the spirit, when it contemplates the awful majesty and immensity of Being—pure eternal Being” (Morell, Philosophy of Religion, 100).

MME boarded in Charlemont, Massachusetts during the summer of 18541854; presumably she did so at the home of Luther and Rosaline Keys. In a letter to Ann Sargent Gage in October of that year, MME describes her living situation in Charlemont among other recent boarding locales during what was a time of fluctuating lodging arrangements in her elderly years (Simmons, Selected Letters, 566). MME mistakenly dates this entry as a “Sabbath,” since 1854-09-1212 September 1854 was a Tuesday.

The editors think it likely that MME refers to reading two different works in this passage, Horace Bushnell’s God in Christ and William Ellery Channing’s Memoirs, the latter of which she also describes reading in Almanack, folder 30, p. 17 (not yet published), in terms similar to this passage. Folder 30 is composed of several dates, including entries dated 18541854; its manuscript leaf that includes p. 17 is quite similar in hand writing and paper color to this folder 29 page, suggesting that they could originally have been part of the same Almanack. Further evidence for this possibility is provided by Ralph Waldo Emerson, who when transcribing the folder 30 entry in his MME Notebook 3, supplies “Charlemont 1854” (p. 51), the same date and location of this folder 29 entry. The folder 30 entry reads partially as follows: “In reading dear Channing’s memoirs now & then . . . with ill health . . . renders humanity, { w’h | which } is h[is,] worthy to mingle with it by adoration & praise and perfect love an[d] obedience.” A few weeks after the date of this folder 29 passage, Emerson relates to a friend that she has been reading Channing’s Memoirs, about which she “found full cause for my confessial when I compared his deep humility & fervent charity. . . I have been wholly taken with a smale portion of “his works” since I found them here almost a fortnight since.” In this letter, she also describes reading Bushnell and “his ‘God in Christ,’” which “rather disturbs my old intuition of the Absolute necessary Being whose idea is an element of the soul?” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 566-67). Emerson seems in this Almanack passage to refer to Bushnell’s parsing of theology and science: “If there is ever to be anything produced here that can reasonably be called a science, it will more resemble an experience than the dry judgments and barren generalizations hitherto called theology. To have science of a matter is to know it, and there are many of the humblest babes of faith, in corners of obscurity here and there, who really know more, and have a truer science of God, than some who are most distinguished among the Christian doctors. Besides, if we are ever to have any sufficient or tolerably comprehensive theology, it can never be matured, save through the medium of an esthetic elevation in the sensibilities of our souls, which only the closest possible union of the life to God can produce. For the scriptures offer us the great truths of religion, not in propositions, and articles of systematic divinity. . . . So that, after all, our ripe comprehensive theology, when we find it, will be so convoluted with spirit, and so mixed with faith, that it will be as much a life, a holy breadth and catholicity of spirit, as a theory. It will be as far from possible representation, in any of the niggard forms of abstract science, or the debated articles of school divinity, as can be conceived” (Bushnell, God in Christ, 308-9).

MME boards for several weeks in August and September 18551855 with farmers Charles and Roxana Parker in Montague, Massachusetts (Simmons, Selected Letters, 542, 571). In correspondence written over these and later months, she describes this town as “an uncommon pleasant thickly settled Villige” [sic]. Relating her various boarding locales here and in nearby environs at this time, MME also mentions her preference for “obscure places,” as well as her difficulty in obtaining affordable lodging that provides basic comforts and her desire to revisit cherished objects stored in Waterford, Maine, such as her books, bookshelf, blankets, and a memorial medallion of Charles Chauncy Emerson (Emerson to Gage, “17 August 1855”); (Emerson to Gage, “26 November 1855”).

For a portion of her lengthy stay in Ashfield, Massachusetts in 18531853 and 18541854, MME boards with the family of Samuel and Pamela Howes (Simmons, Selected Letters, 542, 555).

MME may refer to Paul’s exhortation to the Christians in Ephesus in Ephesians 3: “For this cause I Paul, the prisoner of Jesus Christ for you Gentiles, If ye have heard of the dispensation of the grace of God which is given me to you-ward: How that by revelation he made known unto me the mystery; (as I wrote afore in few words, Whereby, when ye read, ye may understand my knowledge in the mystery of Christ) Which in other ages was not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed unto his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit; That the Gentiles should be fellow heirs, and of the same body, and partakers of his promise in Christ by the gospel: Whereof I was made a minister, according to the gift of the grace of God given unto me by the effectual working of his power. Unto me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ; And to make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery, which from the beginning of the world hath been hid in God, who created all things by Jesus Christ: To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places might be known by the church the manifold wisdom of God, According to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord: In whom we have boldness and access with confidence by the faith of him. Wherefore I desire that ye faint not at my tribulations for you, which is your glory. For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, That he would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man; That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.”

Written in green pencil in left corner of top margin, likely in non-authorial hand.

Written above the second “e” in this word are two parallel marks that seem to be functioning as a diaresis. While MME does not commonly use this mark in her Almanacks, the editors have determined that it does not result from bleedthrough, nor does it seem to be a stray mark or splay from her pen.

This date is indented on a line by itself at the top of this page.

MME refers to her recent conversation with a Rev. Peters, an unidentified clergyman whom she had met while traveling. In letters to her nephews William Emerson and Ralph Waldo Emerson, she provides additional details about their discussion: “I was much interested in talk with the bearer of this letter in the course of a whole day. He seems not bigoted nor unwise. In speaking of the results of unitarianism (which of the old school I was vindicating) he bro’t proof that the tendency of the new was to doubt of the immortality of the soul. It was a proof w’h tho’ it did not weaken my faith, shocked me—but a dark & frightfull moment passed” (Emerson to William Emerson, “5 November 1826”); and “I would tell you of a conversation I had with a cal. clergy man from N Y in the stage. I would not have missed it. I have made some scrawls of it in my day book w’h I inclose” (Emerson to RW Emerson, “12 and 19 November c. 1826”).

Research has not yet located the source of this apparent gathering of “fanatics” on 5 November 1826.

MME likely refers to her “beloved” friend Sarah Alden Bradford Ripley (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 86). Aptly describing her unique intellectual and emotional bonds with the younger woman, in a letter to Bradford approximately dated 1815, MME characterized herself as “Yours head & heart” (Emerson to SA Bradford, “c. 1815”). Although Bradford’s tenuous Christian faith had reached, from MME’s perspective, a crisis point by the 1826 date of this Almanack, from the earliest days of their friendship in 1812, the influence of deism on Bradford’s incipient steps in what would become a lifelong engagement with scientific and botanical research prompted her to express amazement that MME could seek friendship from one who was, in her own words, “without the pale of Christianity” (qtd. in Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 155). By the early 1820s, however, Bradford’s exploration of German philosophy and her cynicism about Unitarian history and its unsavory politics led to her active intellectual questioning of what she considered unrealistic Unitarian notions about a benevolent divinity and the inevitability of human progress and perfectibility. Biographer Joan Goodwin suggests that Bradford’s increasing skepticism about both Christianity and Unitarian theology was compounded by the depressing constrictions common to many married women in the nineteenth-century—frequent childbearing, onerous household responsibilities, and a curtailed life of the mind. Bradford also held a “naturalistic view of death, refusing either to sentimentalize it with heavenly visions or to make scientifically unsupported assumptions about an afterlife,” adds Goodwin; by 1826, Bradford had lost her mother, father, “favorite brother Daniel,” and other close family members (Goodwin, Remarkable, 115). Despite her antipathy toward Bradford’s religious cynicism, however, MME always valued their friendship and admired Bradford’s spirited intellect.

The first two pages of this Almanack are also published as Almanack, folder 26. RWE’s transcription of a portion of page 2 in his MME Notebook 2 continues without interruption on to page 3 of folder 32, and thus provides evidence that these pages were originally part of this Almanack. Because the holograph manuscript of folder 26 is now housed as a separate folder at the Houghton Library, however, the editors have decided to publish these two pages in their entirety, as pages 1 and 2 in folder 26 and as pages 1 and 2 in this Almanack, folder 32.

The dateline “Vale Dec. 6 ’46” is positioned flush right.

George Tolman transcribes this word in square brackets, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this damaged text.

MME added an elaborate final flourish to the “y” in “ab[str]actedly” on the preceding line, which may serve as a close parenthesis here.

George Tolman transcribes this character in square brackets, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this damaged text.

Written in green pencil, likely in non-authorial hand and positioned in top left corner.

George Tolman transcribes this word in square brackets, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this damaged text.

RWE transcribed these words in his MME Notebook 2, but George Tolman leaves these lines blank, which almost certainly evidences that RWE was reading a less damaged Almanack than the one Tolman transcribed in 1906. RWE continues his transcription on to the top of page 3, indicating that these pages 1 and 2 were originally placed with this Almanack rather than as a separate Almanack as they are now housed (as Almanack, folder 26) at the Houghton library.

In his transcription, RWE dates this passage as 14 February 1847; if he is correct, then MME is likely mistaken with either this date of “14” or the one that follows it, “11,” on the next page, both of which are presumably still February dates, since the date of 1 March does not appear until page 8 of this Almanack.

As described in the textual note pertaining to the speculative date of February 14 on the preceding page, MME may be mistaken with this date.

In his transcription, RWE dates this entry 27 February 1847, possibly based on a letter from MME he received on this date, which like this Almanack entry mentions the passing of winter.

Below this line, MME drew a horizontal line across most of the page, spanning approximately one inch from the left edge of the page through the right gutter, at which right page edge she also penned a series of loops that cross and extend above the horizontal line. The purpose of these marks is not clear, although they may function to demarcate the foregoing text from the quotation that begins on the next line.

Two instances of MME’s interlining appear on this line: “(in nature & origin)” and “created in creatures.” That these phrases are written in a slightly lighter ink color and in a formatively different authorial hand from the other writing on this page suggests that MME added them at a later time.

George Tolman transcribes this text in square brackets and with a question mark, presumably to indicate his uncertainty about this reading.

This dateline is positioned flush right on the line.

The second iteration of this word is interlined above, seemingly to clarify the first word, which is poorly formed.

Tolman’s transcription of the initial letter for this word is accepted, but since the manuscript clearly shows a t-cross indicative of a lower-case “t,” the editors have revised Tolman’s transcription of “The” to “the.”

In the MS, following damage at the beginning of this line, the editors can see a letter that most appears to be an “h” or a cancelled “h.” Since the source text that MME is quoting here, however, does not include any word between MME’s “which is perfect,” we are not reporting any possibilities for this letter.

Interlined below “cause,” MME wrote a “2”; interlined below “effect,” she wrote a “1,” thus transposing these words to “effect and cause,” which corresponds to Ralph Waldo Emerson’s transcription of this Almanack passage in his “MME Notebook 2.”

In this passage, MME is widely and actively repurposing or mistakenly interpreting commentary from from Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s Destination of Man: “I need fear no contradiction when I say, that our consciousness of external existence is absolutely nothing but the product of our own faculty of presentation, and that we know nothing more of external objects that that we have a certain determinate consciousness of them subject to certain laws. . . . that in that which we call intuitive knowledge or contemplation of the external world, we contemplate only ourselves . . . that if the external world generally arises for us only through our own consciousness, what is individual and particular in this external world can arise in no other manner; and if the connection between what is external to us and ourselves is merely a connection in our own thought, then is the connection of manifold objects of the external world, this and no other”; “It is not therefore the operation of what we regard as things external, which do indeed exist for us only inasmuch as we know of them, and just as little the play of imagination and thought, whose products as such are no more than empty pictures, but the necessary faith in our own freedom and energy, and in the reality of our actions, and of certain laws of human action, which lie at the root of all our consciousness of external reality, a consciousness which is itself only belief, founded on another unavoidable belief. We are compelled to admit that we act, and that we ought to act, in a certain manner; we are compelled to assume a certain sphere for this action—this sphere is the actual world as we find it. From the necessity of action proceeds the consciousness of the external world, and not the reverse way, from the consciousness of the external world the necessity of action. From the latter is the former deduced. We do not act because we know, but we know because we are destined to act; practical reason is the root of all reason. The laws of action for rational creatures are of immediate certainty; and their world is only certain so far as these are so. We cannot deny them without annihilating the world, and ourselves with it. We raise ourselves from nothing, and maintain ourselves above it solely by our moral agency. I am required to act, but can I act without having in view something beyond the action itself, without directing my intentions to something which could only be attained by my action? Can I will, without willing some particular thing? To every action is united in thought, immediately and by the laws of thought itself, some future existence—a state of being related to my action as effect to cause. This object of my action is not, however, to determine my mode of action—I am not to place the object before me, and then determine how I am to act that I may attain it—my action is not to be dependent on the object, but I am to act in a certain manner, merely because it is my duty so to act; this is the first point. That some consequence will follow this action I know, and this consequence necessarily becomes an object to me, since I am bound to perform the action which must bring it to pass. I will that something shall happen, because I am to act so that it may happen. As I do not hunger because food is present, but a thing becomes food for me because I hunger, so I do not act thus, or thus, because a certain end is to be attained, but the end is to be attained since I must act in the manner to attain it. I do not observe a certain point, and allow its position to determine the direction of my line, and the angle that it shall make; but I draw simply a right angle, and by that determine the points through which my line must pass. The end does not determine the commandment, but the commandment the end”; and “Am I a free agent, or am I merely the manifestation of a foreign power? Neither appear sufficiently well founded. For the first there is nothing more to be said than that it is conceivable. In the latter I extend a proposition perfectly valid on its own ground, further than it can properly reach. If intelligences are indeed merely manifestations of a certain power of Nature, I do quite right to extend this proposition to them. The question is only whether they really are such, and it shall be solved by reasoning from other premises, not however from a one-sided answer assumed at the very commencement of the inquiry, in which I deduce no more from the proposition than I have previously placed in it. There does not seem to be sufficient proof of either of these two positions. The case cannot be decided by immediate consciousness; I can never become conscious either of the external forces which in the system of universal necessity determine my actions, nor of my own individual power, by which, under the supposition of free agency, I determine myself. Whichever of the two systems I shall adopt, it appears I must do so without sufficient proof. The system of freedom satisfies—the opposite one kills,—annihilates the feelings of my heart. To stand by, cold and passive, amidst the vicissitudes of events, a mere mirror to reflect the fugitive forms of objects floating by, such an existence as this is insupportable to me; I despise and renounce it. I will love!—I will lose myself in sympathy for another! I am to myself, even, an object of the highest sympathy, which can be satisfied only by my actions. I will rejoice and I will mourn. I will rejoice when I have done what I call right, I will lament when I have done wrong, and even this sorrow shall be dear to me, for it will be a pledge of future amendment” (Fichte, Destination, 62, 81-82, 24-25). She also discusses this work and praises Fichte in a 1847-03March 1847 letter to RWE: “Waldo dear pardon my persumption in penciling the Destination now & then a sentence of Fitche’s. . . . Many thanks for the two smale books of his Much excitment at some great tho’ts tho’ mystically expressed the meaning applies to the simpel. And his faith (from idealism?) is good. if I comprehend it with my incapasity of head to apply. Happy soul to have escaped & gone where he will find something to rely on & derive from beside poor ‘one sided human nature’” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 495). As discussed in greater detail in this Almanack’s Introduction, MME is at this time ill due to a significant and disfiguring recurrence of erysipelas, a chronic condition from which she suffered throughout her adult life. Her reference in this passage to “the [ab]solute invalid” should therefore almost certainly be understood in this context. By “[ab]solute invalid,” Emerson likely refers to a severe and disfiguring recurrence of erysipelas, a painful and chronic skin disease from which she suffers throughout her life. Above on this page, she describes that “cold rides have aided health”; on page three, she describes being ill with erysipelas.” See this Almanack’s introduction for more information about her physical and emotional health over these winter months.

MME refers to the Select Works of Plotinus, the Great Restorer of the Philosophy of Plato, translated by Thomas Taylor (18171817): “. . . he, I say, will not behold this light, who attempts to ascend to the vision of the supreme while he is drawn downwards by those things which are an impediment to the vision”; “For the one is not absent from any thing, and yet is separated from all things; so that it is present with those things that are able, and are prepared to receive it, so that they become congruous, and as it were pass into contact with it, though similitude and a certain inherent power allied to that which imparted by the one”; “For God is not in a certain place, so as to desert other things; but wherever any thing is able to come into contact with him, there is present”; “Cause, however, is not the same with the thing caused. But the cause of all things is not any one of them. Hence neither must it be dominated that good which it imparts to others; but it is after another manner the good, in a way transcending other goods”; “Or may we not say that the soul, if she wishes to abide on high, will consider political concerns as unworthy to be the subject of conference with deity? For this indeed will be the language of him who has seen much of divinity. For as it is said, God is not external to anyone, but it is present with all things, though they are ignorant that he is so. For they fly from him, or rather from themselves” (Plotinus, Select Works, 480, 481, 490, 492).

MME references the title of Plotinus’s essay “On the Good, or the One,” which is included in Thomas Taylor’s translation of several works by Plotinus, which she references extensively in this Almanack. Other essays from this edition to which MME may allude discuss whether the intellect “contains the nature of forms . . . that all the things which are said to exist are composites . . . whether they are fashioned by art, or constituted by nature. For artificial substances consist of brass, or wood, or stone, and do not yet obtain perfection from these, till they are elaborated by the several arts, one of which produces a statue, another a bed, and another a house, and each effects this by the insertion of the form which it contains. Moreover, with respect to the things which are constituted by nature, such of them as are composed of many particulars, and which are said to be co-mingled, may be analyzed into the form which is inherent in all substances that are mingled together. Thus man may be analyzed into soul and body; and body into the four elements. . . . that soul imparts morphe to the four elements of the world; but that intellect becomes the supplier of productive principles to soul just as productive principles being inserted from the arts in the souls of artists enable them to energize [according to art]. With respect to intellect, also, one which is as the form of the soul is analogous to morphe, but another which imparts this form, is analogous to the maker of the statue, in whom all things are inherent which he imparts. The things, however, which body receives, are now nothing more than images and imitations” (Plotinus, Select Works, 288-90). Interestingly, in Almanack, folder 15 (tentatively dated over a decade prior to this Almanack, folder 32), MME similarly deliberates on the artist’s creative process as she quotes from Thomas Brown’s Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind: “The sculptor at every stroke of his chisel, alters the form of the block of marble on which he works, not by communicating to it any new qualities, but merely by separating from it a number of the corpuscles, which were formerly included by us, in our conception of the continuous whole; and when he has given the last delicate touches that finish the Jupiter, or the Venus, or Apollo, the divine form which we admire, as if it had assumed a new existence beneath the artist’s hand, is still in itself unaltered,— the same quiescent mass, that slumbered for ages in the quarry of which it was a part . . . If the philosophy, not of mind only, but of the universe, is to be found, as Hobbes boldly said, within ourselves,—in the same manner as the perfect statue is to be found in the rude block of the quarry, when all the superfluous mass, that adheres to it, has been removed,—in no respect can it more justly be said to be in our minds than in this, that is only by knowing the true extent, and consequently the limits of our intellectual powers, that we can form any rational system of philosophic investigation” (Brown, Lectures, 98-99, 166).

MME refers to Plotinus’s “A Discussion of Doubts Relating to the Soul”: “But it must be said, indeed, that some things end in the soul; and these are such as enter through the body; but that others pertain to the soul alone, if it is necessary that the soul should be something, and that there is a certain nature and work of it. If, however, this be the case, and it desires, and remembers its desire, it will also remember the attainment, or non-attainment of the object of its desire, since its nature does not rank among things of a flowing condition. For if this is not admitted, we must neither grant that it has a co-sensation, not a power of following the conceptions of intellect, nor a certain conspiration, and as it were consciousness of itself. For unless the soul naturally possessed these things, it would not obtain them through its union with the body; but it would indeed have certain energies, the works of which would require the assistance of corporeal organs; and of some things it would bring with itself the powers; but of others it would also bring the energies.” MME seems to relate this notion to Christians’ view of the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth and to those who “hesitate” to believe in this possibility. According to Plotinus, the soul is placed after death in another corporeal body: “In the course of time, however, after death, the recollection of other things also from former lives will arise, so that some of these will be dismissed and despised. For the soul becoming in a greater degree purified from the body, will recollect those things, the remembrance of which she had lost in the present life. But when she becomes situated in another body, she will then indeed departing [from an intellectual] speak of the concerns of an external life” (Plotinus, Select Works, 384-7).

MME quotes from Plotinus’s “On the Good, Or the One”: “Hence, it is necessary to hasten our departure from hence, and to be indignant that we are bound in one part of our nature, in order that with the whole of our true selves, we may fold ourselves about divinity, and have no part void of contact with him. When this takes place therefore, the soul will both see divinity and herself, as far as it is lawful for her to see him” (Plotinus, Select Works, 500).

MME is quoting from and paraphrasing Plotinus’s “On the Good, Or the One”: “Perhaps, however, this was not a spectacle, but there was another mode of vision, viz. ecstacy, and an expansion and accession of himself, a desire of contact, rest, and a striving after conjunction, in order to behold what the adytum contains. But nothing will be present with him who beholds in any other way. The wise prophets, therefore, obscurely signified by these imitations how this [highest] God is seen. But the wise priest understanding the enigma, and having entered into the adytum, obtains a true vision of what is there. If, however, he has not entered, he will conceive this adytum to be a certain invisible thing and will have a knowledge of the fountain and principle, as the principle of things. But when situated there, he will see the principle, and will be conjoined with it, by a union of like with like, neglecting nothing divine which the soul is able to possess. Prior to the vision also it requires that which remains from the vision. But that which remains to him who passes beyond all things, is that which is prior to all things. For the nature of the soul will never accede to that which is entirely non-being. But proceeding indeed downwards it will fall into evil; and thus into non-being, yet not into that which is non-entity. Running, however, in a contrary direction, it will arrive not at another thing, but at itself. And thus not being in another thing, it is not on that account in nothing, but is in itself. To be in itself alone, however, and not in being, is to be in God. For God also is something which is not essence, but beyond essence. Hence the soul when in this condition associates with him. He, therefore, who perceives himself to associate with God, will have himself the similitude of him. And if he passes from himself as an image to the archetype, he will then have the end of his progression. But when he falls from the vision of God, if he again excites the virtue which is in himself, and perceives himself to be perfectly adorned; he will again be elevated through virtue, proceeding to intellect and wisdom and afterwards to the principle of all things” (Plotinus, Select Works, 504-6).

MME quotes from Plotinus’s “On the Virtues”: “If any one, however, calls this disposition of the soul, according to which it perceives intellectually, and is thus impassive, a resemblance of God, he will not err” (Plotinus, Select Works, 7-8).

MME may allude to and selectively quote from an article published in The Monthly Chronicle in 18391839, which in praising the writings of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and George Gordon, Lord Byron, explains how Byron’s dramas Manfred (18171817) and Cain (18211821) contain imagery of the abyss: “Free they are: iron souls in iron frames, they climb the Alps of the physical world as well as the Alps of thought; still their visage is stamped with gloomy and ineffaceable sadness—still their thoughts, whether with Cain and Manfred they plunge into the abyss of the infinite, ‘intoxicated with eternity,’ or whether with the Corsair and the Giaour they scour the vast desert or the boundless ocean, still are they followed by a certain secret and ever-wakeful terror. We would say they drag rivetted to their feet the chains they have broken. Their souls feel ill at ease not only in the petty societies with whom is their struggle, but also in the world of spirit” (“Byron and Göthe,” 245). The phrase “plunge into the abyss” also appears in several other works, including those with which MME was very familiar, such as Germaine de Staël’s Germany (18131813): “He saw her and descended the cliff towards her so swiftly and recklessly that she covered her eyes in terror, lest she should see him plunge into the abyss” (De Staël, Germany, 211). Other examples include John Tregortha’s News from the Invisible World (18131813): “How did they stand shuddering and aghast upon the tremendous precipice; excessively afraid to plunge into the abyss of eternity, yet utterly unable to maintain their standing on the verge of hell” (Tregortha, Invisible World, 209); and Edgar Allan Poe’s “MS Found in a Bottle” (18331833): “We are surely doomed to hover continually upon the brink of Eternity, without taking a final plunge into the abyss” (Poe, “MS Found in a Bottle,” 123).

MME quotes from Plotinus’s “On the Three Hypostases, that Rank as the Principles of Things”: “For by a thing of this kind which is in us, we also touch, associate with, and are suspended from deity.” A footnote in this sentence offers that “This is called by Proclus, the one, flower and summit of the soul, and is that in which our truest being consists” (Plotinus, Select Works, 282).

MME distills from several pages in Plotinus’s “On Eternity and Time”, which surveys the ranging opinions of ancient philosophers on these subjects, including the assessment of the understanding of time as either an eternal order of events; or an arbitrary system of measuring the motion and distance between these events. Plotinus does not think that time and eternity are the same. Following most Platonists, he deems eternity to be “perpetual nature,” and in many ways more real than time that is generated by the ordering mind attempting to describe human perspective: “With respect to eternity and time, we say that each of these is different from the other, and that one of them indeed is conversant with a perpetual nature, but the other about, that which is generated. We also think that we have a certain clear perception of these in our souls spontaneously, and, as it were, from the more collected projections of intellectual conception; always and every where calling these by the same appellations. When, however, we endeavour to accede to the inspection of these, and to approach as it were nearer to them, again we are involved in doubt, admitting some of the decisions of the ancients about these, and rejecting others, and perhaps receiving differently the same decisions. Resting also in these, and thinking it sufficient if when interrogated we are able to relate the opinion of the ancients concerning time and eternity, we are liberated from any farther investigation about them . . . In the first place, however, it is requisite to investigate what those conceive eternity to be, who admit that it is different from time. For that which is established as the paradigm being known, that also which is the image of it, and which they say is time, will perhaps become manifest. But if some one, prior to the survey of eternity, should imagine what time is, it will happen to him, proceeding from hence thither by reminiscence, that he will behold the nature to which time is assimilated, if the latter has a similitude to the former.” We must remember that Plotinus defines “time” in opposition to “eternity”: “Now, however, it is necessary first to assume those assertions which especially deserve attention, and to consider if what we say is concordant with some one of them. But perhaps the assertions concerning time, ought in the first place to receive a threefold division. For time may be said to be either motion, or that which is moved, or something pertaining to motion. For to say that it is either permanency, or that which is stable, or something pertaining to permanency, will be perfectly remote from the conception of time, since it is in no respect the same, [and therefore, can never accord with that which is stable.] Of those, however, who say that time is motion, some indeed assert that it is every motion; but others, that it is the motion of the universe. But those who say it is that which is moved, assert it to be the sphere of the universe. And of those who say it is some thing pertaining to motion, or the interval of motion; some assert that it is the measure of motion, but others that it is an attendant on it, and either in every motion, or on that which is arranged . . . But if some one should say that the motion of the universe is not interrupted, yet this motion, if it is admitted that the circulation [of the world] is in a certain time, will itself be carried round to the same point from whence it began; and not to that point in which the half of it only is accomplished. And this motion, indeed, will be the half, but the other will be double, each being the motion of the universe, both that which proceeds from the same to the same, and that which arrives only at the half. The assertion, also, that the motion of the outermost sphere is most vehement and rapid, bears witness to what we say; so that the motion of. [sic] it is one thing, and time another. For that motion is the most rapid of all, which in the least time passes through the greatest interval. But other motions are slower, which are performed in a longer time, and pass through a part only of the same space”; and “It is necessary, however, to doubt what this number is, whether it is monadic, and how it measures? For though some one should discover how it measures, yet he would not find time measuring, but a certain quantity of time. This, however, is not the same with time [simply considered] For it is one thing to speak of time, and another, of so much time. For prior to the so much, it is necessary to say what that is which is so much. Is time, therefore, the number which measures motion externally? Such as the decad in horses, and not that which is assumed together with horses. What this number, therefore, is, has not been shown, which prior to measuring, is what it is, in the same manner as the decad. Shall we say it is that number which measures by running according to the prior and posterior of motion? But it is not yet manifest what this number is which measures according to prior and posterior. That, however, which measures according to prior and posterior, whether by a point, or by any thing else, entirely measures according to time. This number, therefore, which measures motion by prior and posterior, will be successive to, and in contact with time, in order that it may measure it. For prior and posterior, must either be assumed locally, as the beginning [and end] of a stadium, or temporally. For in short, with respect to prior and posterior, the former indeed is time ending in the now; but the latter is time beginning from the now. Time, therefore, is different from the number which measures motion according to prior and posterior, not only motion of any kind, but also that which is orderly” (Plotinus, Select Works, 177-8, 194-6, 202-4). See Leviticus 18:21 and 2 Kings 23:10 for reference to the pagan idol Moloch (also known by the name Baal), who also figures in John Milton’s Paradise Lost (Milton, Paradise Lost, 13, 14, 28, 150).

In these references to Plato’s cycles and Platonic cycles, MME seems to refer to Plato’s notion of the soul’s immortality as it both cycles through various mortal lives and as it transcends them to other states of being, a process known as transmigration (Annas, “Plato”; Frede, “Plato’s Ethics”). She may also have in mind Plato’s understanding of seasonal cycles, “the law of contraries” and its corresponding “ceaseless flow and change.” These cycles as well as Plato’s “moral cycle of the world [that] corresponds to the motions of the planets” are discussed in an article on “Plato’s Views of Immorality” published at the time of this Almanack that MME also may have been reading (TSK, “Article V: Plato’s Views,” 85, 105).

MME refers to two works of Plotinus and also to William Wordsworth’s Excursion. From Plotinus’s “On Eternity and Time,” she loosely quotes from and alludes to the following passages: “For if eternity is life consisting in permanency, and in an invariable sameness of subsistence, and which is now infinite, but it is necessary that time should be the image of eternity, just as this universe is the image of the intelligible world; if this be the case, instead of the life which is there, it is necessary there should be another life of the discursive power of the mundane soul, homonymous as it were to the life of eternity; and instead of intellectual motion, that there should be the motion of a certain part of the soul”; and “For since it was not possible for time itself to be bounded by soul, nor for each part of it to be measured by us, since it is invisible and incomprehensible, and especially since this is impossible to those who do not know how to numerate,—hence the Demiurgus made day and night, through which mankind were enabled to apprehend two things by their difference; from which, as Plato says, they arrived at the conception of number.” From “On the Good, Or the One,” MME quotes as follows: “Whoever fancies that beings are governed by fortune and chance, and are held together by corporeal causes, is very remote from God, and the conception of the one” (Plotinus, Select Works, 209-10, 213, 481-2). An ongoing synthesis of god, nature, eternity, and soul in this Almanack entry, MME’s reference to “wilderness where God hath built” is found in this verse from Wordsworth’s The Excursion: How beautiful this dome of sky; And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed At thy command, how awful! . . . My lips, that may forget thee in the crowd, Cannot forget thee here; where thou has built, For thy own glory, in the wilderness! Me didst thou constitute a Priest of thine, In such a Temple as we now behold Reared for thy presence (Wordsworth, “Wanderer,” 143).

MME may have in mind an article she references on page 11 in this Almanack, which is published in the North American Review. In discussing the moral philosophy of Dugald Stewart, the article also relies on Ralph Cudworth’s views as to the characteristics of virtue: “The nature of the motive that operated in this instance upon the minds of Stewart and Cudworth, is apparent. . . . They were apprehensive, that if we consider moral distinctions as ‘results of the will of God,’ we shall be obliged to withdraw from our ideas of the divine nature, the moral attributes which we generally consider as belonging to it. ‘Such authors certainly do not recollect,’ says Stewart, ‘that what they add to the divine power and majesty, they take away from his moral attributes; for if moral distinctions be not immutable and eternal, it is absurd to speak of the goodness or of the justice of God.’ ‘If we suppose,’ says Cudworth, ‘that the arbitrary will and pleasure of God—that is, an omnipotent Being, devoid of all essential and immutable justice—by its commands and prohibitions is the first and only rule and measure of right and wrong, it would follow unavoidably, that nothing could be imagined so grossly wicked or so foully unjust or dishonest, but if it were supposed to be commanded by this omnipotent Deity, must needs upon that hypothesis become holy, just, and righteous.’ ‘Whoever thinks,’ says Shaftesbury, ‘that there is a God, and pretends firmly to believe that he is just and good, must suppose that there is independently such a thing as Justice and Injustice, Truth and Falsehood, Right and Wrong, according to which eternal and immutable standards, he pronounces that God is just, righteous, and true. If the mere will, decree, or law of God be said absolutely to constitute right and wrong, then are these latter words of no signification at all.’ In all this there is much confusion of ideas, which obviously results from the implied supposition, that the moral attributes of God, if real, must be of the same nature with ours” (Everett, “Review,” 255).

MME alludes to both Plotinus’s “On Eternity and Time” and to Samuel Clarke’s Sermons on Several Subjects (17381738). From Plotinus, she references and selectively quotes from the following note: “Time, however, according to Proclus, is a medium between that which is alone the cause of motion, as soul, and that which is alone immoveable, as intellect. Hence time is truly, so far as it is considered in itself, immoveable, but so far as it is in its participants, it is moveable, and subsists together with them, unfolding itself into them. He adds, hence it is a certain proceeding intellect, established indeed in eternity, but proceeding and abundantly flowing into the things which are guarded by it” (Plotinus, Select Works, 209). From Clarke, she draws on but repurposes this passage: “All other substances are IN Space, and are penetrated by it; but the self-existent Substance is not IN Space, nor penetrated by it, but is itself (if I may so speak) the Substratum of Space, the Ground of the existence of Space and Duration itself. Which [Space and Duration] being evidently necessary, and yet Themselves not Substances, but Properties or Modes; show evidently that the Substance, without which these Modes could not subsist, is itself much more (if that were possible) Necessary. And as Space and Duration are needful, (i.e., sine qua non,) to the Existence of every thing else; so consequently is the Substance, to which These Modes belong in that peculiar manner which I before mentioned” (Clarke, “Answer,” 745-6).

MME refers to two biblical terms for idolatry and greed, both of which are referred to in several biblical verses, such as Matthew 6:24: “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon”; Luke 16:9: “And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when ye fail, they may receive you into everlasting habitations”; Jeremiah 23:13: “And I have seen folly in the prophets of Samaria; they prophesied in Baal, and caused my people Israel to err”; and 2 Kings 21:3: “For he built up again the high places which Hezekiah his father had destroyed; and he reared up altars for Baal, and made a grove, as did Ahab king of Israel; and worshipped all the host of heaven, and served them.”

MME refers to a discourse given by Sir Humphrey Davy, president of the Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge, at a ceremony in 18271827, in which British mathematician James Ivory was awarded with the Society’s Royal Medal: “Whether we consider the nature of mathematical science or its results, it appears equally amongst the noblest of human pursuit and ambition. Arising a work of intellectual creation from a few self-evident propositions on the nature of magnitudes and numbers, it is gradually formed into an instrument of pure reason of the most refined kind, applying to and illustrating all the phenomena of nature and art, and embracing the whole system of the visible universe; and the same calculus measures and points out the application of labour, whether by animals or machines, determines the force of vapour, and confines the power of the most explosive agents in the steam-engine,—regulates the forms and structures best fitted to move through the waves—ascertains the strength of the chain-bridge necessary to pass across arms of the ocean—fixes the principles of permanent foundations in the most rapid torrents, and leaving the earth filled with monuments of its power, ascends to the stars, measures and weighs the sun and the planets, and determines the laws of their motions, and can bring under its dominion those cometary masses that are, as it were, strangers to us, wanderers in the immensity of space; and applies data gained from contemplation of the sidereal heavens to measure and establish time, and movement, and magnitudes below” (“Discourses,” 365). Although in fact Coleridge significantly influenced Davy’s thinking, MME seems to find Davy’s theory lacking in that it doesn’t allow adequately for Coleridge’s distinction between reason and understanding, a “scientific method” that as Laura Dassow Walls explains “comprehended nature by replacing the creative mind of God with the creative mind of man” (Walls, Science, 59). As Eric Wilson proposes, in Davy’s application of Coleridgean thought, “the common law of nature, coursing from the ‘deep centre to the unknown circumference’ is to be revealed . . . by the science of electricity” (Wilson, Sublime, 79, 89).

MME quotes selectively from an article that she also references on page 9 in this Almanack, which is published in the North American Review: “We do not say, as Mr. Stewart intimates, that we are bound to obey the will of God because there is a moral ‘fitness’ in so doing—that is, because in so doing we should act in conformity to that higher rule of right which he supposes to exist independently of the power and will of God himself, and which, as we have shown already, is a vain and baseless fiction. Necessity and not fitness is the sense conveyed by the term obligation. We are obliged to obey the will of God because we cannot avoid it—because his will is the principle of our existence and the law of our nature. We must exist and act in the way that he has prescribed for us in all our relations, physical and moral, and we cannot exist and act, or even conceive the possibility of existing and acting in a different one. Within the sphere of activity, that belongs to our nature, there is no doubt, a certain latitude allowed to individuals by the freedom of the will, but even in the exercise of this freedom they are, as we remarked above, subject to the same divine law, and have no choice but that of submitting to its operation in one way or another” (Everett, “Review,” 265). She also seems to be comparing Stewart’s ideas to Samuel Clarke’s theory on moral philosophy, from whose Obligations of Natural Religion and the Truth and Certainty of the Christian Revelation she misquotes and paraphrases: “To this Law, the infinite Perfections of his Divine Nature make it necessary for him (as has been before proved) to have constant Regard: And (as a learned Prelate of our own has excellently shewn, not barely his infinite Power, but the Rules of this eternal Law, are the true Foundation and the Measure of his Dominion over his Creatures. Now for the same Reason that God who hath no Superior to determine him, yet constantly directs all his own Actions by the eternal Rule of Justice and Goodness, ’tis evident all Intelligent Creatures in their several Spheres and Proportions, ought to obey the same Rule according to the Law of their Nature, even though it could be supposed separate from that additional Obligation, of its being the positive Will and Command of God. And doubtless there have been many Men in all Ages in many Parts of the heathen World, who not having Philosophy enough to collect from mere Nature any tolerably just and explicit Apprehensions concerning the Attributes of God, much less having been able to deduce from thence any clear and certain Knowledge of his Will, have yet had a very great Sense of Right and Truth, and been fully persuaded in their own Minds, of many unalterable Obligations of Morality. But this Speculation, though necessary to be taken Notice of in the distinct Order and Method of Discourse, is in itself too dry, and not of great Use to Us, who are abundantly assured that all moral Obligations are moreover the plain and declared Will of God; As shall be shewn particularly in its proper Place” (Clarke, Discourse, 68-71).

We have not yet located the source of MME’s quotations, nor have we yet identified her reference to “thy venerable head.” Although MME refers to Samuel Clarke as “venerable” on pages 10 and 11 of this Almanack, he does not appear to be her subject in this passage. Other suggestive possibilities are as follows. MME may have in mind the recently published writings of abolitionist and Unitarian minister Charles Follen, whom she mentions on page seven of this Almanack: “The idea of God is a true one; because it can be clearly conceived in the mind, without contradicting any other truth. God is the one only substance of all that is, or, he is the only self-existent being; while all other things and qualities in the world are only attributes, or modifications of his being” (Follen, Works, 3:75). Her comments also seem resonant with the sense of Transcendentalist George Ripley’s consideration of Andrews Norton’s Discourse on the Latest Form of Infidelity (18391839), including Norton’s notion of the nature of presumptuous reason: “‘According to Spinoza,’ you assert, ‘there is but one substance existing. This is possessed of infinite attributes. All the phenomena of what we call the created universe, that is, all finite beings, with their properties, acts, and affections; with their moral qualities, good or bad; with their joys and sufferings, are but modifications of the attributes of this sole substance, or, in other words, of this substance itself. This substance has existed from eternity. It could be produced by no other; for one substance cannot produce another; — creation is impossible’”; and “By an attribute of God, Spinoza understands, any thing which expresses the eternal essence of God, and by the affection or mode of an attribute, that which depends upon the attribute, for its existence and conception. Thought and extension, therefore, or mind and matter, are both manifestations of the eternal essence of God; the reflection of the invisible, infinite nature”; and “Since men regarded and treated the Bible and the Christian history in a natural light, and destroyed the miraculous brightness which had hitherto surrounded them; since they saw many prejudices disappear, found many points of the doctrine of the Church untenable, discovered human and temporal elements in what had claimed to be divine, and in this process of examination were not elevated by a firm faith, nor guided by a comprehensive idea, it followed that scarcely any thing was protected from doubt, and the whole fabric of Christianity tottered. The finishing stroke was put to this movement by the philosophy of Kant, which subjected the whole system of human knowledge to a rigid criticism, established human reason on itself alone, made it the supreme judge in matters of faith, and thus favored presumption, but, at the same time, by its speculative direction prepared the way for truth. Under its influence, a kind of philosophic theology was formed, which regarded the Christian religion as a human and natural phenomenon, although the best means for the education of humanity, submitted its truth to the decision of reason, and undertook to purify it from all the local and temporary opinions, with which it had been combined. As the Kantian philosophy directed the attention especially to morality, this theological Rationalism regarded the moral element in Christianity as every thing,— the rest merely as an external support. Much as this theology was employed with the interpretation of Scripture and the history of the Church, it never obtained a living conception of history, nor did it deserve the noble name of Rationalism. The view, that Christ was to be regarded only as a teacher, not as a Redeemer, that it was to be wished that his person might have remained unknown to us, designates the spirit of this theology, and its monstrous confusion. This Rationalism was a necessary phenomenon; it manifested the extreme of the one-sided direction to speculative knowledge, which hitherto had often changed its forms, but was still essentially the old Scholasticism” (Ripley, Infidelity, 2:13, 2:22, 3:138-9). Finally, a brief article on “Spinoza” published in the Boston Investigator at the time of this Almanack is also suggestive, especially in its criticism of MME’s nephew, Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Our readers may be pleased with the following abstract of the opinions of Spinoza, whom Mr. Emerson ranks among those philosophers, who, like Jesus, speak ‘from within,’ and who, if we do not misunderstand, are according to Mr. Emerson the inspired writers, as distinguished from writers of practical morality, like Paley and Locke. We admire Mr. Emerson’s liberality, but how can he reconcile such liberality with a belief in the divine authenticity of the Bible? According to Spinoza, all religions are only political engines, calculated for the public good, to render the people obedient to magistrates, and to make them practice virtue and morality. He maintains that God is not, as we imagine him, an infinite, intelligent, happy, and perfect Being; nor any thing but that natural virtue or faculty which is diffused throughout all creatures. . . . The system of Spinoza may be reducible to the following doctrines:—that there is but one substance in nature, and that there is no other God but nature, or the universe. . . . This only substance existing in nature is endued with an infinite number of attributes, among which are extension and cogitation. All the bodies in the universe are modifications of this same substance considered as cogitative. God is the cause of all things that exist, but is not a different being from them. There is but one being and one nature, and this nature produces within itself by an inherent act, all those which we call creatures. This Being is at the same time both agent and patient, efficient cause and subject, and he produces nothing but modifications of himself” (“Boston Investigator 1842,” 1842).

MME likely refers to Dr. Charles Follen, whose lectures in Boston on moral philosophy figure in her correspondence with nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson in 1831. In reference to his authorship of a book she wishes to borrow in March 1833, MME refers to Follen as her “new friend” in a letter to a friend, although it is not clear whether she has met him personally by this time. In 1835, the two did meet at a gathering for English author Harriet Martineau hosted by MME’s close friend Sarah Alden Bradford Ripley (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 235). Follen’s tragic early death spurred many tributes lauding his consistent fight for human liberty. One of these by abolitionist Samuel Joseph May refers repeatedly to Follen’s “sacrifices,” both in Germany and in the U.S., “for liberty” and “in the cause of liberty” (May, Discourse, 11, 26). By “inestimable sacrifices,” MME may have May’s article in mind as well as her own regard for his abolitionism and untimely death. In referencing “the rapture of giving mites,” MME may allude to Mark 12:42: “And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing,” and/or to Luke 21:2: “And he saw also a certain poor widow casting in thither two mites.”

MME quotes from Edward Young’s Complaint. Or, Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality: …Time, and he Who murder’d all Time’s offspring, Death, expire (Young, Complaint, 250). In referring to Ralph Cudworth, MME may have in mind an article she also references on page 9 in this Almanack, which is published in the North American Review. In discussing the moral philosophy of Dugald Stewart, the article also relies on Cudworth’s views as to the characteristics of virtue: “The nature of the motive that operated in this instance upon the minds of Stewart and Cudworth, is apparent. . . . They were apprehensive, that if we consider moral distinctions as ‘results of the will of God,’ we shall be obliged to withdraw from our ideas of the divine nature, the moral attributes which we generally consider as belonging to it. ‘Such authors certainly do not recollect,’ says Stewart, ‘that what they add to the divine power and majesty, they take away from his moral attributes; for if moral distinctions be not immutable and eternal, it is absurd to speak of the goodness or of the justice of God.’ ‘If we suppose,’ says Cudworth, ‘that the arbitrary will and pleasure of God—that is, an omnipotent Being, devoid of all essential and immutable justice—by its commands and prohibitions is the first and only rule and measure of right and wrong, it would follow unavoidably, that nothing could be imagined so grossly wicked or so foully unjust or dishonest, but if it were supposed to be commanded by this omnipotent Deity, must needs upon that hypothesis become holy, just, and righteous’” (Everett, “Review,” 255).

In this Almanack, MME is reading several philosophers who debate the origins of human morality; in this passage she appears to be distilling and choosing among the conflicting ideas presented by eighteenth-century philosophers Henry Grove; Dugald Stewart; and (via Stewart) Francis Hutcheson and Anthony Ashley Cooper, third earl of Shaftesbury. In System of Moral Philosophy (1749), chapter one of which is “Of the Importance and Certainty of Morality,” Grove contends (in a sense that MME also honors in this passage) that God bestows upon humanity a “moral sense”; similar to the perception of beauty and “antecedently to any reasonings of ours, on the superior convenience, or healthfulness of the beautiful; we are alike formed with regard to moral characters.” She appears to reject, however, Grove’s notion that human morality derives from a sense perception, a response that may reflect her reading of Stewart’s critique of “moral sense” perception, particularly in regard to Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, both of whom, in his estimation, erred ironically in the manner of John Locke: “notwithstanding his [Hutcheson’s] hostility to Locke’s conclusions concerning innate practical principles, he adopted his opinions, and the peculiarities of his phraseology, with respect to the origin of our ideas in general. I already observed, that, according to both these writers, ‘it is the province of sense to introduce ideas into the mind; and of reason, to compare them together, and to trace their relations;’—a very arbitrary and unfounded assumption, undoubtedly, as I trust has been sufficiently proved in a former part of this argument; but from which it followed as a necessary consequence, that, if the words right and wrong express simple ideas, the origin of these ideas must be referred, not to reason, but to some appropriate power of perception. To this power Hutcheson, after the example of Shaftesbury, gave the name of the moral sense; a phrase which has now grown into such familiar use, that it is occasionally employed by many who never think of connecting it with any particular philosophical theory.” Stewart closes his critique by quoting Plato: “‘It seems to me, that for acquiring these notions, there is not appointed any distinct or appropriate organ; but that the mind derives them from the same powers by which it is enabled to contemplate and to investigate truth’” (Grove, System, 2:448); (Stewart, Philosophical Essays, 43-44, 49).

MME may abbreviate an internal note regarding her physical health at this time.

Annotation in progress.

MME refers to the fear of Boston residents that the city would be invaded as the War of 1812 continued. During the fall of 1814, British troops in Maine and Connecticut had ravaged homes and businesses, causing many residents to flee. In the following weeks, Boston officials held meetings to discuss preparations for defending the city, with local troops parading through city streets to demonstrate their readiness. Despite such preparations, the city of Boston was never attacked. MME’s correspondence at this time also reflects these concerns as well as her characterization of “the garrison like appearance of this Town, the incessant echo of martial musick” (“Defence”); (“Invasion of Connecticut”); (“Penobscot”); (Ellis, Ruinous, 225); (Simmons, Selected Letters, 79).

MME quotes from Dugald Stewart’s “Essay First: On Locke’s Account of the Sources of Human Knowledge.” Contending that philosophers err in attempting to explain phenomena inaccessible to empirical observation, Stewart argues that human experience can only account for aspects of the universe, the human mind, and their operations: “I can see no good reason for supposing that Locke did not believe that our ideas of primary qualities are really resemblances or copies of these qualities, when we know for certain that, till our own times, this has been the universal doctrine of the schools, from Aristotle downwards . . . . Even Leibnitz himself, while he rejected the supposition of these ideas coming into the mind from without, expresses no doubt of their resemblance to the archetypes which they enable us to think of . . . . [T]hat is to say, he retained that part of the scholastic doctrine which is the most palpably absurd and unintelligible; the supposition, that we can think of nothing, unless either the original or the copy be actually in the mind, and the immediate subject of consciousness. The truth is, that all these philosophers have been misled by a vain anxiety to explain the incomprehensible causes of the phenomena of which we are conscious, in the simple acts of thinking, perceiving, and knowing; and they seem all to have imagined that they had advanced a certain length in solving these problems, when they conjectured, that in every act of thought there exists some image or idea in the mind, distinct from the mind itself; by the intermediation of which its intercourse is carried on with things remote or absent. The chief difference among their systems has turned on this, that whereas many have supposed the mind to have been originally provided with a certain portion of its destined furniture, independently of any intercourse with the material world; the prevailing opinion, since Locke’s time has been, that all our simple ideas, excepting those which the power of reflection collects from the phenomena of thought, are images or representations of certain external archetypes with which our different organs of sense are conversant; and that, out of these materials, thus treasured up in the repository of the understanding, all the possible objects of human knowledge are manufactured. ‘What inconsistency!’ (might Voltaire well exclaim)” (Stewart, Philosophical Essays, 23-24). Although MME approves of the focus on faith and values Stewart’s “sublime incomprehensibility,” she rejects Stewart and Locke’s insistence that knowledge arises only from human experience

The Boston Female Asylum, one of the earliest examples in that city of the “first wave” of early American women’s benevolent reform efforts, was established in 1800 to care for orphaned and destitute girls; notably, women served as its its board of managers, director, and governess. The anniversary sermon, characteristically delivered the Friday before the last Tuesday of September, functioned as a fundraising event, raising $212.45 in 1814; the Reverend Joshua Huntington of Boston’s Old South Church delivered that year’s anniversary sermon. MME’s remarks suggest that she was unable to contribute as significantly as she might have done in previous years, but her fond hope for the Asylum’s future came to pass. Beginning as an institution that offered basic educational, domestic, and religious instruction for girls while placing them in domestic service positions until the age of 18, over time it reinforced its benevolent mission. After name changes and mergers in 1910 and 1923, in 1960 its institutional descendant, the Boston Children’s Aid Society, and the Boston Children’s Friend Society merged to form Boston Children’s Services, an organization that now figures as a component of The Home for Little Wanderers, an agency supporting diverse and robust services for young people in the city up to the age of 22 as well as their families (Reminiscences of Boston Female Asylum, 9010, 18-24, 71; Boylan, Origins, 17-24, 19; Hart, Preventive, 163; Home).

MME alludes to a common parable, delivered by Jesus, in Matthew 7:3-5: “And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye”; and in Luke 6:41-42: “And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Either how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, let me pull out the mote that is in thine eye, when thou thyself beholdest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy brother’s eye.”

After the death of her husband William in 1811, Boston’s First Church granted Ruth Haskins Emerson the use of its parish house for several years and $500 annually for a period of seven years to support herself and her six children (Cabot, Memoir, 1:28-29). Nonetheless, the family was in straitened financial circumstances. Ruth Emerson auctioned her husband’s books (Rusk, Life, 30), and Waldo and Bulkeley Emerson were required to share an overcoat in cold weather (Cabot, Memoir, 1:29). Moreover, the war-time blockade in Boston and the influx of quartered troops further inflated the price of food and other staples. After leaving the parish house, the Emersons “lived for a while in Bennet Street” (Rusk, Life, 40), “perhaps staying for a time with the Haskinses on Rainsford Lane; in November 1814, when war approached, they moved to Concord, where RHE remained until March 1815” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 93 n1).

MME likely refers to one of several Baptist Society churches that existed in Boston at this time and that had appointed September 29, 1814 “as a day of FASTING, HUMILIATION, and PRAYER . . . to seek the Divine interposition in favor of our country at this alarming crisis,” a reference to ongoing hostilities during the War of 1812 (Columbian Centinel).

Infantry, artillery, and rifle regiments from neighboring cities gathered in Boston at this time; MME and Ruth Haskins Emerson were advised that the city would shortly be invaded. Because of imminent danger and inflation in expenses associated with a town quartering soldiers, they moved to Concord, at the invitation of Ezra Ripley, in November 1814, where Ruth remained until March 1815 and MME a little longer. Before their departure, however, MME wrote both Ann Brewer and Phebe Emerson Ripley in hopes that she and the young Emerson brothers might reside in Waterford, rather than removing to Concord, as Ruth preferred. In Malden, MME’s Aunt Rebecca Emerson Parker Brintnall Waite may have needed assistance due to her ongoing mental instability, the condition of her husband Samuel Waite (who died in January 1814), or a hip condition, which MME describes at the time of her uncle’s funeral (Rusk, Life, 39) (Simmons, Selected Letters, 80-81, 82 n2, 90 n2, 91, 93 n1).

MME may intend this letter to be a symbol or an abbreviation, but since it does not resemble her common symbol of a large circle with an inside mark resembling a period (⨀), the editors have transcribed the letter as it appears.

Sarah Alden Bradford and Samuel Ripley married in October 1818 (Simmons, Selected Letters, 117 n1).

Prayer concerts dated back at least to the eighteenth century in Europe and Great Britain, where they generally accompanied religious revivals and other missionary efforts. In the early republic, American churches held such services in times of great deliberation over a national or spiritual crisis. Given the ongoing state of war with England during the fall of 1814, MME could refer to a number of prayer concerts held in Boston at this time. See, for example, “A Word in Season to the Christian Public,” in the Boston Daily Advertiser for 29 November 1814, which announces a “special concert in prayer” to seek divine guidance for the nation’s leaders (“Word in Season”; Hamilton, Old South, 261, 411).

A portion of the top of this page has been excised, and little discernible text remains on these lines; no Tolman transcription is extant for the excised lines of this page.

If the editors are correct in speculatively dating this Almanack page as 18121812, then this reference to “sabbath” falls on a Saturday rather than a Sunday. Either MME is mistaken about the date, or her use of “sabbath evening” may refer to the day prior to as well as Sunday itself.

A portion of top of page has been excised; little discernible text remains; no Tolman transcription is extant for the excised lines of this page.

MME may intend this letter to be a symbol or an abbreviation, but since it does not resemble her common symbol of a large circle with an inside mark resembling a period (ʘ) and typically abbreviating the word “world,” the editors offer the possibility that this letter may instead abbreviate an unknown word.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text; a portion of the bottom of page has been torn and is no longer extant.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the right side of the page, with little discernible text; a portion of the bottom of page has been torn and is no longer extant.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text.

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Written in green pencil in left corner of top margin, likely in non-authorial hand.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text.

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MME may have written “18” or “28” to date this entry, but with no additional context on this line to validate whether this numeral is indeed a date, and with no certainty as to this page’s original placement in this Almanack, we cannot offer more than the speculation that this numeral may be a date, and if so that it is possibly some time in 1812-11November 1812.

These lines are written on the left side of the page.

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An indeterminate number of lines have been excised from the top of this manuscript page.

An indeterminate number of lines have been excised from the top of this manuscript page.

This word is written in large letters horizontally across the middle of the page in what appears to be MME’s hand. However, this page reflects no burned edges or other damage seemingly due to burning.

This leaf is a complete vertical fragment on the right side of the page, with little discernible text.

This leaf is both a vertical fragment on the right side of the page and a vertical fragment on the left side of the next page; the editors have not transcribed the latter, due to minimal discernible text.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the right side of the page, with little discernible text.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text.

With no additional context on this line to validate whether this numeral is indeed a date, and with no certainty as to this page’s original placement in this Almanack, we cannot offer more than the speculation that this numeral is a date, and if so that it is possibly some time in 1813-11November 1813.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the right side of the page, with little discernible text; a portion of the top of page has been torn and is no longer extant.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text; a portion of the top of page has been torn and is no longer extant.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text; a portion of the top of page has been torn and is no longer extant.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the right side of the page, with little discernible text; a portion of the top of page has been torn and is no longer extant.

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In response to the U.S. declaration of war against England on 1812-06-18June 18, 1812, governors throughout the country appointed specific days for observance and reflection. In Massachusetts, Governor Caleb Strong proclaimed 1812-07-23July 23, 1812 “a day of Fasting, Humiliation, and Prayer”; many sermons were delivered on this occasion, including that of William Ellery Channing at the Federal Street Church in Boston (“Declaration,” 2-3); (“Miscellany,” 1); (Channing, Sermon).

In her calendar for MME’s whereabouts in 1812, Nancy Craig Simmons suggests that MME spent July through some portion of September in Concord, Massachusetts (Simmons, Selected Letters, 46).

MME refers to Luke 23:46: “And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, he gave up the ghost.”

MME references a tradition dating back to Hippocrates and Galen, the medico-philosophical theory of the humors (the four bodily fluids of blood, phlegm, choler, and melancholy), and their influence on human temperament and physiology. In his popular Natural Theology (1802), William Paley argued that human reason may glean the existence of intelligent divinity via empirical evidence of the earth’s design. Expanding upon the notion that bodily humors govern happiness and melancholy, he proposed that happiness is both divinely granted and grounded in the senses of taste, hearing, and sight; the stomach is the “seat of taste,” and Paley attributed “dullness of the senses” as one of the chief “complaint[s] of old age,” a proposition MME may dispute here (Paley, Works, 1:330, 331). In his Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, Paley notes, “If any positive signification, distinct from what we mean by pleasure, can be affixed to the term ‘happiness,’ I should take it to denote a certain state of the nervous system in that part of the human frame in which we feel joy and grief, passions and affections. Whether this part be in the heart, which the turn of most languages would lead us to believe, or the diaphragm, as Buffon, or the upper orifice of the stomach, as Van Halmont thought. . . it is possible, not only that each painful sensation may violently shake and disturb the fibres at the time, but that a series of such may at length so derange the texture of the system as to produce a perpetual irritation, which will show itself by fretfulness . . . It is possible also, on the other hand, that a succession of pleasurable sensations may have such an effect upon this subtile organization as to cause the fibres to relax, and . . . to preserve that harmonious conformation which gives to the mind its sense of . . . satisfaction” (Paley, Works, 3:24-25).

MME may allude to the wording of popular Christian hymns, including two by John Wesley: “Christ Our Righteousness” includes the lines This all my hope, and all my plea, For me the Saviour died ; and stanza nine of “Invitation of Sinners to Christ” reads Murderers, and all the hellish crew, Blacken’d with lust and pride, Beileve [sic] the Saviour died for you, For you the Saviour died (Wesley, Hymns, 40, 63).

Although we have located news articles mentioning Rev. William Ellery Channing, who may be “Mr C,” and Judge Parker, we have not located any information to help us identify the specific sermon to which MME refers.

MME quotes from Joseph Milner’s A History of the Church of Christ (1794), in which Milner distinguishes between Christian and non-Christian virtue, specifically that of Roman governor Pliny the Younger: “The truth is, virtue in Pliny’s writings, and virtue in St. Paul’s, means not the same thing. For humility, the basis of a Christian’s virtue, the pagan has not even a name in his language. The glory of God is the end of virtue in the one, his own glory is the end of virtue in the other” (Milner, History, 163). Here, Milner echoes 2 Peter 1:3 regarding Christian virtue: “According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue.”

MME may refer to a new friend, eighteen year-old Sarah Alden Bradford, a parishioner in her late brother’s church. In correspondence in the early years of their acquaintance, MME reveals her great fondness and admiration for the young woman, whom she refers to as “my latest freind & sweetest freind” and “thou soother of my dark life.” Soon she would praise Bradford’s devotion, discipline, and erudition, comparing her to the learned Elizabeth Smith (Simmons, Selected Letters, 65, 69, 82-3).

As evidenced in her correspondence and throughout the Almanacks, martyrdom was an important concept to MME throughout her life and one that reflects her Puritan heritage. Here she may refer to two works by Joseph Milner, History of the Church of Christ (1794), which she is reading earlier in this Almanack, and his recent (1807) edition of John Foxe’s Book of Martyrs (1563). Both books describe and denounce the superstitious “idolatrous” nature of the early Christian church and its hierarchy, particularly the beliefs in transubstantiation, purgatory, relics and images of saints, and the divinity of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Milner also describes that “the corruptions of superstition, with respect to the immoderate honours paid to saints and martyrs . . . were afterward improved by Satan into idolatry itself,” and he equates the “loosing of Satan” with the “desolation of the church” (Milner, History, vi, 47, 195, 384, 423; Foxe, Martyrs, 12, 159, 248, 309-10, 313, 346, 350, 439, 739). MME’s concern with religious superstition at this time is also evident in counsel offered to young friends and relatives a few years after this Almanack was written: “Avoid superstition when speaking of religion and conversion,” she advises Ann Sargent; similarly, she reminds her nephew, Edward Bliss Emerson, to be vigilant “against veiwing the holy and sublime duty of prayer with superstition” (Emerson to Gage, “29 January 1816”; Simmons, Selected Letters, 97).

MME may refer to attending the funerals of acquaintances Nathaniel T. Tilden and Judith Cooper Huntington, both of whom had recently died. Tilden’s funeral was held in Boston on 1812-11-1010 November 1812, while Huntington’s took place the next day, on 1812-11-1111 November 1812, also in Boston.

MME may allude to Romans 1:9: “For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of his Son, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers.”

MME quotes a phrase from Seneca’s letter to Lucilius, which appeared frequently in literary works and sermons: “We are not to be solicitous of long Life, but that we may live while we live” (Savage, Collection, 61).

Many biblical verses refer to those who are naked, hungry, and thirsty. MME may allude to 1 Corinthians 4:11: “Even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling place”; or to Matthew 25:34-45: “Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we saw thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and give thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw see thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.”

MME may allude to Luke 10:21: “In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes: even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight.”

In this lengthy discussion, MME apparently commonplaces from what she admits to be potentially a memory—rather than a recent reading—of Joseph Butler’s Sermons. MME’s equation of “feelings” with “frames” does not accord with Butler’s or other philosophers’ use of the latter term, and Butler’s commentary about the dangers of “feelings” such as human passions and emotions, self-interest, self-deceit, and even compassion (when it results from an erroneous pleasure that others’ sorrows are not your own) may have confused MME’s thinking. In his Analogy of Religion, with which MME was familiar, Butler asserts that “veracity, justice and charity, regard to God’s authority, and to our own chief interest, are not only all three coincident; but each of them is, in itself, a just and natural motive or principle of action”; he also argues that although correctly governed self-interest and even anger can lead to virtuous or principled action, “both self-love and particular affections . . . considered only as passive feelings, distort and rend the mind; and therefore stand in need of discipline” (Butler, Analogy, 152, 153). This commentary perhaps added to MME’s sense of the ways in which self-interest and self-deception, when not governed by reason and self-reflection, could interrupt the correct workings of Butler’s theory of “principle[s] of action” that guide or produce virtue for the self and others (“Butler’s Moral”). Adding to the difficulty of understanding this passage is that Butler’s ambiguity on these subjects has led to considerable debate among philosophers and historians; thus, it is understandable that MME too may have been perplexed about the various interpretations of his meaning in these works.

MME likely alludes to Job 9:21: “Though I were perfect, yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life.”

Samuel Tully and John Dalton had been convicted of murder and piracy of the schooner George Washington and were scheduled for execution in Boston in 1812-12December 1812. Tully was duly hung on 1812-12-1010 December 1812, but Dalton received a reprieve at the last minute, while standing on the gallows. His execution was rescheduled multiple times before he was awarded a full pardon on 1813-06-1313 June 1813. Tully was the first person to be executed in Suffolk County in the fifteen years prior (Report on the Trial, 33-34; “Remarkable Incident,” 167).

MME refers to the Napoleonic wars, which had been ongoing in Europe and Russia for several years. In 18121812, Napoleon had invaded Russia; that fall, many news accounts reported on the important and deadly Battle of Borodino, near Moscow, which had occurred in early September and which resulted in thousands of casualties on both sides and ultimately proved disastrous to Napoleon’s army. Various news and historical sources of the time characterized Napoleon as “the enemy of human nature” and “the enemy of the world” (“London, Oct. 3,” 3; Cobbett, Cobbetts, 658).

As Nancy Simmons has noted, throughout her writings, MME denominated money in British terms of pounds and shillings, not dollars and cents; and she typically abbreviates “pound” with the symbol “#” (Simmons, Selected Letters, xlvi-xlvii, 237, 287). This in addition to fluctuating denominations in early American currency make it difficult to speculate with any certainty on the value of MME’s reference here to one hundred pounds. One hundred dollars (versus American or British “pounds”) in 18131812 would have been roughly equivalent to $1,840 in 2014, the most recent year for which data is available (Measuring Worth).

MME may refer to George Campbell and David Hume’s Lectures on Ecclesiastical History (1807), as well as to two new works on Martin Luther that were published in 18131813: Ernest L. Hazelius’s Life of Dr. Martin Luther together with Extracts of His Writings on Various Subjects; and a new edition of the Augsburg Confession, to which was appended Life of Dr. Martin Luther . The Confession lays out several of the Protestant reformers’ concessions to the Roman church, including those on the doctrine of salvation, and it notes Luther’s “courage,” a human attribute that MME also honors in her consideration of the “corporeal” causes and “human methods” underlying Luther’s development as a reformer. Hume and Campbell contended that Luther regarded “the intrepidity, with which he had been enabled to brave so many dangers, and the success with which his enterprise had been crowned . . . as miraculous” (Campbell and Hume, Lectures, 456; original emphasis). Luther’s stance on miracles rejects the belief that Catholic saints could intercede and aid in an individual’s salvation; for Luther, “miracles and natural wonders were a form of divine revelation distinctly inferior to the Word” (Augsburg Confession, 72; Soergel, Miracles, 28).

MME may allude to Sirach 43:30 (The Book of Ecclesiasticus) in the Apocrypha: “When ye glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as ye can; for even yet will he far exceed: and when ye exalt him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary; for ye can never go far enough.”

Established in 18111811 for the purpose of supporting Christian missions and translating the bible, the Foreign Mission Society of Boston held its annual meeting in the great hall of the Massachusetts Bank on 1813-01-01January 1, 1813 at 3 pm. Reverend Abiel Holmes subsequently delivered the Society’s annual sermon at the Old South Church later that evening. Occurrences in December of note and of potential commentary for the society included the recent, devastating $50,000 loss of its East Indian Mission Printing Office due to a fire as well as to the Society’s $1,000 pledge of funds for translations and distribution of the bible in Asia (“Foreign Mission”; Holmes, Discourse).

Research has not yet determined MME’s reference to a fire at this time, which editors speculatively date as 1813-01-022 January 1813.

MME may allude to Colossians 4:12: “Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ, saluteth you, always labouring fervently for you in prayers, that ye may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God”; or to James 1:2-4: “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” Given her admiration for the writings of Samuel Clarke, she may also have in mind his Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God (1704).

MME alludes to Job 36:3: “I will fetch my knowledge from afar, and will ascribe righteousness to my Maker.”

MME alludes to Psalms 119:81: “My soul fainteth for thy salvation: but I hope in thy word.”

MME may allude to “The Tale of the Little Beggar” in One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, in which several members of a community mistakenly think they have killed a beggar, also described as a “humble servant” of Allah, whom they move to various locales in an attempt to hide their perceived crime. By the early nineteenth century, these popular stories had been translated into English and published in several British and American editions.

MME likely refers to Jeremy Taylor’s Rule and Exercises of Holy Living, first published in 16501650.

MME alludes to Psalm 13:1: “How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?”

At the beginning of 18131813, MME was in Boston, staying with and helping Ruth Haskins Emerson with her six children, aged twelve and younger. By the end of February she has returned to South Waterford, Maine and taken Bulkeley Emerson (age six) and Charles Chauncy Emerson (age five) with her. Bulkeley remains only a short time, but Charles’s visit extends through early October. In Maine, Lincoln Ripley and Samuel Moody Haskins had been born in 18121812 and 18131813, respectively (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 141; Simmons, Selected Letters, 50, 77, x). The editors speculatively date this Almanack page as 1813-02-2323 February 1813, in which case the “crying babes” are likely these Haskins children.

Two years prior, in 1811-05May 1811, MME’s brother, William, and her intimate friend, Mary Wilder Van Schalkwyck White, had both died. MME had spent much of the past several months living with William’s widow, her sister-in-law Ruth Haskins Emerson, not only helping care for her six children (all under age 12 years) but also keeping house for the paying boarders whom Ruth had taken in to alleviate her financial situation. At the time of this Almanack passage, MME has returned to South Waterford, Maine, taking two of her nephews there for an extended stay. Although it is likely Ruth to whom she refers as “gloomily situated,” her sister Phebe Emerson Ripley in Waterford was ill at this time (Simmons, Selected Letters, 60, 64-64, 71; Dwight, Memorials, 380-81; Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 134).

MME alludes to a few stanzas, and quotes one line from another stanza, of Edward Young’s lengthy poem, “Resignation”: By Resignation; all in that A double friend may find, A wing to heav’n, and, while on earth, The pillow of mankind. and That peace, which resignation yields, Who feel alone can guess: ’Tis disbeliev’d by murm’ring minds, They must conclude it less. The loss or gain of that alone Have we to hope or fear; That fate controls, and can invert The seasons of the year. O! the dark days, the year around, Of an impatient mind; Thro’ clouds, and storms, a summer breaks, To shine on the resign’d (Young, “Resignation,” 161-62).

MME may quote Gavin Turnbull, whose poem “The Clubs. A Satire” opens as follows: Now jowing bells, with solemn croon, Proclaim another day is done, And fowk wha due decorum keep, Forget their cares in silent sleep; While jovial sauls that fear nae ill, Keep up noise and riot still (Turnbull, Poems, 30).

MME quotes from “Night IV: The Christian Triumph” from Edward Young’s Complaint: As when a wretch, from thick, polluted air, Darkness, and stench, and suffocating damps, And dungeon-horrors, by kind fate, discharg’d, Climbs some fair eminence, where ether pure Surrounds him, and Elysian prospects rise, His heart exults, his spirits cast their load; As if new-born, he triumphs in the change; So joys the soul, when from inglorious aims, And sordid sweets, from feculence and froth Of ties terrestrial, set at large, she mounts To reason’s region, her own element, Breathes hopes immortal, and affects the skies (Young, Complaint, 71).

Annotation in progress.

Annotation in progress.

Written in top right corner in green pencil, likely in non-authorial hand.

MME may quote from Felicia Browne Hemans’s poem “The Song of a Seraph,” whose second stanza begins “Now the angel-songs I hear, / Dying softly on the ear; / Spirit, rise! to thee is given, / The light ethereal wing of heaven” (Hemans, Poems, 58).

MME may allude to various religious works that discuss a christian’s worthiness both to sit at God’s table and to eat the crumbs that fall from it, as reflected in this excerpt from an article published in a New England religious periodical in 1801: “‘Do you think yourself worthy to come to the table of the Lord?’ The answer was, ‘No, I know I am not; but the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters table, and this, sir, is what I wish to be permitted to do. I think it my duty to confess Christ before men; and as unworthy as I am, I have a desire to commune with him at his table’” (Waterman, “Letter II,” 62). Her allusion to eating the crumbs that fall from the table is from Matthew 15:26-27: “But he answered and said, ‘It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it to dogs.’ And she said, ‘Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.’”

Interlined in pencil above { exclarrisement | éclaircissement },” likely in non-authorial hand.

Interlined in pencil above { xeampel | example },” likely in non-authorial hand.

MME alludes to 2 Samuel 12: 1-4: “And the LORD sent Nathan unto David. And he came unto him, and said unto him, ‘There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds: But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man’s lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him.’”

Interlined in pencil above “christaity” likely in non-authorial hand.

MME had returned in early 1813 to her home in Waterford, taking her nephew Charles Chauncy Emerson there for an extended visit; on 3 October [1813], she writes to her brother Samuel Ripley that she has “parted with my idol Charles” (Simmons, Selected Letters, 50, 77).

MME quotes a common phrase found in several literary works at the time, suggesting that it is in common use. For example, in his Miscellanies, Oliver Goldsmith asserts that “though good versification alone will not constitute Poetry, bad versification alone will certainly degrade and render disgustful the sublimest sentiments and finest flowers of imagination” (Goldsmith, Miscellanies, 405); writing about Plato’s “labyrinth of argument,” Henry Kett describes that the philosopher “scatters around us the flowers of imagination” (Kett, Elements, 355).

This and the last page of this Almanack are inscribed in “patchwork” fashion, with triangular-shaped blank spaces in the middle of the text, forming covers for this booklet.

As with the first page of this Almanack, this one is inscribed in “patchwork” fashion, with triangular-shaped blank spaces in the middle of the page.

Written in green pencil in left corner of top margin, likely in non-authorial hand.

MME is quoting Philip Doddridge, Lecture CXCII, in The Works of Rev. P. Doddridge: “The obligation of the precepts contained in New Testament continues so long as the reasons on which they were founded continue, and ceases when the observation of any particular precept is inconsistent with another of a more general nature, or of greater importance for promoting the essential branches of virtue” (Doddridge, Works, 5:286).

MME quotes from Lecture CXCII of Philip Doddridge: “2. Dem. 1. Many precepts are delivered in such manner, that they must necessarily admit of some exception, in order to reconcile them with each other, and with the natural law of God, founded on the mutable and immutable relation of things . . . 2. The law of Moses , which is delivered in as general and universal a stile as the precepts of Christ, was in some instances violated, without any crime, by those who were still in general under the obligations of that law” (Doddridge, Works, 5:286).

No Tolman transcript is extant for this text.

MME is quoting and paraphrasing Friedrich von Schlegel, Lectures on the History of Literature, Ancient and Modern: “The classical period of Roman literature, then, reckoning from the consulate of Cicero till the death of Trajan, included no more than one hundred and eighty years. Within the same period also the science of jurisprudence, the only original intellectual possession of great value to which the Romans can lay undisputed claim, received its first development, and began to assume the appearance of a science” (Schlegel, Lectures, 1:159).

MME is misquoting Francis Bacon: “But it is manifest, that Plato, in his opinion of ideas as one that had a wit of elevation situate as upon a cliff, did decry ‘That forms were the true object of knowledge;’ but lost the real fruit of his opinion, by considering of forms as absolutely abstracted from matter, and not confined and determined by matter; and so turning his opinion upon theology, wherewith all his natural philosophy is infected” (Bacon, Advancement, 72).

MME likely refers to Numa Pompilius’s reputed consort and advisor, the Italian water nymph Egeria. For the insurance of easy deliveries, pregnant women made sacrifices to Egeria (“Numa Pompilius”).

MME is commonplacing Aristotle’s Ethics and Politics, Comprising his Practical Philosophy, Translated from the Greek as translated by John Gillies: “The Divinity . . . ever is what he is, existing in energy before time began, since time is only an affection of motion, of which God is the author. That kind of life which the best and happiest of men lead occasionally, in unobstructed exercise of their highest powers, belongs eternally to God in a degree that should excite admiration in proportion as it surpasses comprehension” (Gillies, Aristotle’s Ethics, 1:155).

MME is commonplacing Aristotle’s Ethics and Politics, Comprising his Practical Philosophy, Translated from the Greek, as translated by John Gillies: “He began by proving that the happiness of man consists in the exercise of the moral and intellectual virtues; or, in his own technical language, ‘that happiness is energy directed in the line of virtue.’. . .This system is totally different from that which regards morality as founded solely or ultimately on feeling, whether a moral sense, sympathy, or any other modification of merely sensitive nature; an absurd doctrine, liable to gross and dangerous perversion; and which has often been employed to justify, and even to produce the wildest practical errors”; and “Familiar with the correct geometry of his times, he discerned the concatenation of truths, which, being linked indissolubly together, unite the most distant, and seemingly unconnected extremes” (Gillies, Aristotle’s Ethics, 1:290, 131).

MME is commonplacing Aristotle’s Ethics and Politics, Comprising his Practical Philosophy, Translated from the Greek, as translated by John Gillies: “It is the doctrine of Aristotle, a doctrine long and obstinately disputed, but now very generally received, that all our direct knowledge originates from sense” (Gillies, Aristotle’s Ethics, 1:46). No Tolman transcript is extant for this text.

MME is quoting Charles Rollin: “Now, it is unanimously agreed by all astronomers, that several thousands of years must pass, before any such situation of the stars, as they would imagine, can twice happen; and it is very certain, that the state in which the heavens will be to-morrow has never yet been since the creation of the world” (Rollin, Ancient History, 2:186-187). No Tolman transcript is extant for this text.

MME is commonplacing from Thomas Reid, An Inquiry into the Human Mind, on the Principles of Common Sense: “The progeny that followed, is still more frightful; so that is surprising, that one could be found who had the courage to act the midwife, to rear it up, and to usher it into the world. No causes nor effects; no substances, material or spiritual; no evidence even in mathematical demonstration; no liberty nor active power; nothing existing in nature, This but impressions and ideas following each other, without time, place, or subject . . . The dissimilitude of our sensations and feelings to external things, is the innocent mother of most of them . . . Now, this can with no propriety be called an association of ideas, unless ideas and belief be one and the same thing. A child has found the prick of a pin conjoined with pain; hence, he believes, and knows, that these things are naturally connected; he knows that the one will always follow the other. If any man will call this only an association of ideas, I dispute not about words, but I think he speaks very improperly. For if we express it in plain English, it is prescience, that things which he hath found conjoined in time past, will be conjoined in time to come. And this prescience is not the effect of reasoning, but of an original principle of human nature, which I have called the inductive principle . . . the best models of inductive reasoning that have yet appeared, which I take to be the third book of the Principia and the Optics of NEWTON, were drawn from BACON’s rules. The purpose of all those rules, is to teach us to distinguish seeming or apparent connections of things in the course of nature, from such as are real.” MME also references Reid’s explanation of Joseph Addison’s theory “that light and colours, as apprehended by the imagination, are only ideas in the mind, and not qualities that have any existence in matter” (Reid, Inquiry, 191, 192, 434, 437, 179).

MME’s positive conception of “enthusiasm” may be inspired by or responding to Germaine de Staël, whose Influence of Literature upon Society she is reading at this time. In this work, as well as in three chapters dedicated to “enthusiasm” in Germany, de Staël links “a reflected enthusiasm, and a pure exaltation of mind” (De Staël, Influence, 1:275), and she asserts that “enthusiasm is connected with the harmony of the universe: it is the love of the beautiful, elevation of soul, enjoyment of devotion”; similar to MME, she also relates this emotion to “men [who] take up arms indeed for the defence of the land which they inhabit . . . inspired by the enthusiasm of their country”; and she asserts that “if the soul be really moved within us, if in the universe it seeks a God, even if it be still sensible to glory and to love, the clouds of heaven will hold converse with it, the torrents will listen to its voice, and the breeze that passes through the grove, seems to deign to whisper to us something of those we love (De Staël, Germany, 2:328, 339, 341-42). In contrast to De Staël and MME, some post-Enlightenment figures, such as Thomas Reid, whom MME is also reading at this time, assert that “imagination . . . or the most frantic enthusiasm” can be a product of “delirium” (Reid, Inquiry, 46-47).

These lines form a vertical list in the right gutter of the page; this list seems to function as a “mood chart,” describing MME’s temperament between 22 March and 11 April 1821. No Tolman transcription is extant for this text.

MME is quoting and paraphrasing an 1821 review of Dugald Stewart’s Outlines of Moral Philosophy, for the use of students in the University of Edinburgh (1818), from the Christian Spectator: “And in the first place, ‘too much stress’ he says ‘has been laid on the argument derived from the nature of mind.’ The proper use of the doctrine of the soul’s Immateriality, he says, is ‘not to demonstrate that the soul is physically and necessarily immortal; but to refute the objections which have been urged against the possibility of its existing in a separate state from the body.’ In short, he does not think our knowledge of the nature of mind is sufficient to afford us any positive argument on the subject; for we know nothing of the nature of mind except that, since its qualities are essentially different from the qualities of matter, the nature of the one is probably different from the nature of the other; and consequently the dissolution of the body does not necessarily imply the extinction of the soul, but the ‘presumption is in favour of the contrary supposition.’ So confident is he however, that the nature of mind and body are essentially different, that he considers even the Ideal theory of Berkeley as ‘more philosophical than the doctrine of materialism,’ in as much as the former ‘only contradicts the suggestion of our perceptions, while the latter contradicts the suggestions of our consciousness.’ The latter part of this article is too good to be passed over without presenting to our readers almost the whole of it. ‘There are various circumstances which render it highly probable, that the union between soul and body, which takes place in our present state, so far from being essential to the exercise of our powers and faculties, was intended to limit the sphere of our information; and to prevent us from acquiring in this early stage of our being, too clear a view of the constitution and government of the universe. Indeed when we reflect on the difference between the operations of mind and the qualities of matter, it appears much more wonderful, that the two substances should be so intimately united, as we find them actually to be, than to suppose that the former may exist in a conscious and intelligent state when separated from the latter’” (“New Publications,” 246).

This page is inscribed in “patchwork” fashion, with triangular-shaped blanks in the middle of the text.

MME is paraphrasing Germaine De Staël: “The ancients were better skilled in morals than in philosophy: an accurate study of the sciences is necessary to rectify metaphysics: but nature has placed in the heart of man a guide to conduct him to virtue: nevertheless, nothing could be more unsettled and unconnected than the moral code of the ancients . . . Rank and morals were confounded by many of the Greek philosophers: the love of study, and the performance of the first duties, were classed together. In their enthusiasm for the faculties of the mind, they allowed them a place of esteem beyond every thing else: they excited men to the acquirement of admiration; but they never looked with an eye of penetration into the heart” (De Staël, Influence, 1:121).

MME is quoting from Charles Robert Maturin’s gothic novel Melmoth the Wanderer: “Is the fire caught from heaven to be employed in lighting a faggot to keep the cold from the numbed and wasted fingers of poverty” (Maturin, Melmoth, 4:115).

We have not been able to ascertain MME’s source for Plato’s Republic in this particular Almanack, but because she extracts several excerpts from Gillies’s translation of Aristotle’s Ethics and Politics on its front and back covers, she may allude to his extensive discussion of the Republic and women’s role within it. Gillies objects to Plato’s premise that guardian women and children be shared by guardian men, believing that men are the injured party in this relation (Gillies, Aristotle’s Ethics, 2:85-86, 98-94, 98).

MME is quoting from John Gillies’s translation of Aristotle: “With Aristotle, all will is free-will; since nothing can be more free than that which is voluntary” (Gillies, Aristotle’s Ethics, 1:289).

MME is commonplacing from Friedrich von Schlegel’s Lectures on the History of Literature, as indicated by other passages in this Almanack: “After the time of Charlemagne, the multiplying of manuscripts was a work pursued with the most zealous and systematical application”; and “The Greek language was certainly not unknown in Germany, at least between the time of Charlemagne, who learned Greek himself in his old age” (Schlegel, Lectures, 1:282,285).

MME commonplaces from Friedrich von Schlegel’s Lectures on the History of Literature: “Besides, in the countries whose present languages are of Roman origin, the Latin, in those days, was scarcely considered as a foreign or even as a dead language, but rather as the old and genuine language of the land, preserved in its regularity and purity by the men of learning and education, in opposition to the corrupt and vague dialects of the common people—the vulgar tongues, as they were called. In those countries the Latin language ceased not to be a living one till the 9th or 10th century. . . . But it is evident that the delusion under which men lay in considering the Latin language as still alive, many centuries after it was really extinct, was very much prolonged by the perpetual use of that language in all the observances of religion, and in all the societies of the cloisters. It sustained daily altercations, but was never altogether laid aside” (Schlegel, Lectures, 1:278-9).

MME is paraphrasing Germaine De Staël: “Socrates and Plato preferred speaking to writing; because they felt, without exactly rendering to themselves an account of their talents, that their ideas belonged more to imitation than to analysis. They loved to have recourse to that impulse and elevation of thought which is produced by the animated language of conversation; and they searched with as much diligence for something to inflame the imagination, as the metaphysicians and moralists of our days would employ, to secure their works from the smallest appearance of poetic.” For deriving their inspiration from poetry, De Staël praises Alexander Pope, John Milton, Thomas Gray, Oliver Goldsmith, John Dryden, Edward Young, William Shakespeare, Henry Fielding, and Samuel Richardson (De Staël, Influence, 1: 143, 318-327).

MME is quoting Adam Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments: “As in the common degree of the intellectual qualities, there are no abilities; so in the common degree of the moral, there is no virtue” (Smith, Theory, 1:25).

MME is quoting Dugald Stewart’s Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind: “The chief difference between the opinions of Plato and Aristotle on the subject of ideas, related to the mode of their existence. That the matter of which all things are made, existed from eternity, was a principle that both admitted; but Plato farther taught, that, of every species of things, there is an idea of form which also existed from eternity, and that this idea is the exemplar or model according to which the individuals of the species were made; whereas Aristotle held, that, although matter may exist without form, yet that forms could not exist without matter” (Stewart, Elements, 1:93). MME also quotes from William Wordsworth’s poem “The Wanderer” in The Excursion: Being a Portion of the Recluse, a Poem: “But we have known that there is often found / In mournful thoughts, and always might be found, / A power to virtue friendly” (Wordsworth, “Wanderer,” 34).

Written in green pencil in left corner of top margin, likely in non-authorial hand.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the left side of the page, with little discernible text.

This leaf is a vertical fragment on the right side of the page, with little discernible text.

MME’s comments about Elizabeth Montagu and Germaine de Staël in letters and Almanack fragments in 1821 and 1822 may indicate that she refers to one or both women in this discerning passage. In an Almanack-letter hybrid conjecturally dated September 1822 to Elizabeth Hoar and that may have originally been included in this Almanack folder, MME adds a postscript in which she excitedly queries Ralph Waldo Emerson about Montagu’s 1769 defense of Shakespeare, An Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare Compared with the Greek and French Dramatic Poets, a well-received volume published in several subsequent editions and multiple translations. This commentary about Montagu perhaps sheds light on MME’s truncated remark about Shakespeare and Charles Chauncy Emerson on the reverse of this Almanack leaf. MME’s reference here to “antient & modern love” may also suggest Montagu’s defense of Shakespeare against charges by Voltaire and others that the renowned British dramatist’s virtues fell short in comparison to classical Greek and “modern” (17th- and 18th-century) French authors. As regards de Staël, whom MME also admired, MME cites her often in an 1821 Almanack as well as in another Almanack-letter hybrid of this date. The latter and this current Almanack passage reflect MME’s sense of the conflict between a woman’s own ambition versus nineteenth-century cultural and religious expectations for female humility. Imagining de Staël’s relinquishment of “her own publick existence” that her son “might be decked with unfading honors,” MME envisions that for the learned female, “the humbler deciple of meekness will shine in light when the meteors are gone,” a sentiment that suggestively compares with this Almanack’s metaphor of the intellectual woman “as a kind of moral comet” who understands that her young male protégés will surpass her (Emerson to RW Emerson, “c. 1821”). Finally, then, in invoking the compensatory notion that secular “knowlege passeth,” MME likely borrows the wording if not the sense of Ephesians 3:19: “And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God.”

MME is quoting from and paraphrasing an 1821 review of Dugald Stewart’s Outlines of Moral Philosophy (1818): “And in the first place, ‘too much stress’ he says ‘has been laid on the argument derived from the nature of mind.’ The proper use of the doctrine of the soul’s Immateriality, he says, is ‘not to demonstrate that the soul is physically and necessarily immortal; but to refute the objections which have been urged against the possibility of its existing in a separate state from the body.’ In short, he does not think our knowledge of the nature of mind is sufficient to afford us any positive argument on the subject; for we know nothing of the nature of mind”; “Another evidence of a future state which Mr. Stewart mentions, is ‘the foundation which is laid in the principles of our constitution for a progressive and an unlimited improvement’” ; “Another evidence of a future state is ‘the natural apprehensions of the mind when under the influence of remorse’” ; “We would now call the attention of our readers to the chapter on the moral attributes of the Deity. So far as they are discoverable by the light of nature, they are according to Mr. Stewart, Benevolence and Justice. For the Benevolence of the Deity, he thinks we have a strong presumptive, a priori, argument, inasmuch as the exquisite pleasure which we know by our own experience accompanies the exercise of benevolence, ‘the peculiar satisfaction with which we reflect on such of our actions as have contributed to the happiness of mankind, and the peculiar sentiment of approbation with which we regard the virtue of beneficience’ [sic], it would seem, render it difficult to conceive what other motive could have induced a Being completely and independently happy, to have called his creatures into existence than that of benevolence” (“New Publications,” 246, 247, 248, 250).

MME refers to several passages from the biblical book of Acts in which early Christians spoke, as Jesus of Nazareth had prophesied in Mark 16:17, “with new tongues.” See, for example, Acts 2:1-4: “And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance”; Acts 10:43-46: “To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins. While Peter yet spake these words, the Holy Ghost fell on all them which heard the word. And they of the circumcision which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost. For they heard them speak with tongues, and magnify God”; and Acts 19:1-6: “And it came to pass, that, while Apollos was at Corinth, Paul having passed through the upper coasts came to Ephesus: and finding certain disciples, He said unto them, Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed? And they said unto him, We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost. And he said unto them, Unto what then were ye baptized? And they said, Unto John’s baptism. Then said Paul, John verily baptized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the people, that they should believe on him which should come after him, that is, on Christ Jesus. When they heard this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. And when Paul had laid his hands upon them, the Holy Ghost came on them; and they spake with tongues, and prophesied.”

MME’s somewhat cryptic comments on these two days seem possibly indicative of previous criticism she’s leveled at her friend Hannah Farnham Sawyer Lee, who with her sister Mary Sawyer Schuyler were members of a literary coterie in Newburyport, Massachusetts, with which MME often spent time when visiting there. In letters to various correspondents over the years, MME referred to Lee as “her elegant Newburyport friend” but also remarks that she does not take seriously all of Lee’s comments; on occasion, MME also finds that Lee “appeared guilty of ‘egotism of a refined & proud kind’” (Cole, Mary Moody Emerson, 117, 260, 269).

Although these words (“Ah mean you that!”) are spoken by “the Ancestor,” MME did not preface them with this character reference.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the exclamation point following “spirit” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the final “r” in “fear” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the final “m” in “whom” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the final portion of the “l” in “natural” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.


Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the final portion of the “n” in “xian” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the exclamation point following “spirit” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the final “r” in “fear” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the final flourish of the ultimate t-cross in “that” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.


Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the final “m” in “whom” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the flourish of the t-cross in “connected” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the final portion of the “l” in “natural” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the final portion of the “t” in “spriit” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from the preceding manuscript page appear at the beginning of lines on this page; these letters indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the beginning of this line, the final portion of the “n” in “xian” on the corresponding line of page two appears as the initial character.

Written in top left corner in green pencil, likely in non-authorial hand.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the final flourish of the ultimate t-cross in “that” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the flourish of the t-cross in “connected” continues and appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Several line-ending letters/characters that are omitted from this manuscript page but present at the beginning of lines on the next page indicate that these now separated pages were originally on the same side of the manuscript sheet, subsequently excised to form two pages, or leaves. At the end of this line, the final portion of the “t” in “spriit” appears as the initial character on the corresponding line of page three.

Although these words (“I have had . . . personal”) are spoken by Plato, MME did not preface them with this character reference.

MME may allude to two biblical verses, Job 11:17: “And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday; thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning”; and Proverbs 31:7: Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.”

MME occasionally bestowed commemorative notes and letters from historic figures to her nephews. Ralph Waldo Emerson received one such letter from “Plato,” conjecturally dated August 1824 and likely in response to an imaginative letter Waldo had written to Plato earlier that year. His brother Charles apparently received from MME a similar epistle, now lost, ostensibly from the Marquis de Lafayette. Ralph Waldo Emerson was born on May 25, 1803, a date that MME commemorates in this Almanack. Although the editors are not certain of the year of this Almanack, it seems likely to be in the early-mid 1820s, and thus written on RWE’s birthday in young adulthood.

Referring to an “eclipse” in which “lurks a spirit” that threatens RWE’s “path,” Plato seems to suggest to Ancestor that RWE’s vocational and religious future are endangered. In its “triumph over the race—beyond the old king you calvinists used to fear,” this threatening “spirit” may be philosophical speculation as well as a more benevolent Christianity. MME herself is the “one whom the order of things has connected with” RWE and who, by virtue of her “natural taste for what is fine in spriitualism & what is infinite in christian practice,” has been admitted to the “coterie” of both Plato and Ancestor. To appreciate fully the context of this dialogue between Plato and Ancestor, and MME’s role in it, see this Almanack’s Introduction.

In the tradition of astrology, twelve “houses” correspond to the earth’s rotation as it also corresponds to the twelve zodiac signs (Brock, “Astrology”). MME may refer to one of many literary references that refer to “house of life” in an astrological context, especially given the preceding lines’ references to “prophecy” and “consult[ing] not stars material.” For example, in Ben Johnson’s The Alchemist (1616), the character Subtle speaks of “The Thumb, in Chiromanty, we give Venus; / The Fore-finger, to Jove; the midst, to Saturn;  / The Ring, to Sol; the least, to Mercury; / Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope, / His House of Life being Libra; which fore-shew’d / He should be a Merchant, and should Trade with Ballance” (Johnson, Alchemist, 21); and in Friedrich Schiller’s Death of Wallenstein (1800), the character Seni addresses Wallenstein: “Come and see! trust thine own eyes! / A fearful sign stands in the house of life / An enemy; a fiend lurks close behind / The radiance of thy planet—O be warn’d! / Deliver not thyself up to these heathens / To wage a war against our holy church” (Schiller, Wallenstein, 139-40). The speaker’s (Plato’s) preference for “keep[ing] to old terms” may indicate MME’s understanding that the heyday of astrology has passed. In two works by Sir Walter Scott, a great favorite of MME’s, astrologers are met with both receptiveness and dismissiveness by various characters. In Kenilworth (1821), for example, “though exempt from the general controul of superstition,” Leicester nonetheless peers at “the brilliant host of stars which glimmered in the brilliance of a summer firmament” and hopes “that the heavenly bodies should befriend me, for my earthly path is darkened and confused,” after which he exerts an astrologer to cast a new horoscope for him, with which the astrologer complies: “Thus in reviewing the horoscope which your lordship subjected to my skill, you will observe that Saturn, being in the sixth House in opposition to Mars, retrograde in the House of Life, cannot but denote long and dangerous sickness, the issue whereof is in the will of Heaven, though death may probably be inferred―Yet, if I knew the name of the party, I would erect another scheme”; the astrologer later updates his previous horoscope and notes that “Venus, ascendant in the House of Life, and conjoined with Sol, showers down that flood of silver light, blent with gold” . In another example, chapter four of Scott’s Guy Mannering (1815) opens with an epigram quoting the above “Come and see!” passage from Schiller’s Wallenstein and then explains that the popularity of astrology during the seventeenth century had begun to wane by the beginning of the eighteenth, albeit some practitioners, including an elderly clergyman with whom the novel’s title character spent his youth, were “loth to relinquish the calculations which had become the principal objects of their studies” (Scott, Mannering, 1:31).

By “one whom,” Mary Moody Emerson refers to herself as the subject of this inquiry and the repeated one in the next sentence.

With only a few slight deviations, MME quotes from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “It is necessary, in order to attach intelligent beings to the love of virtue, and respect for morality, that not only happy natural dispositions, but still more, a judicious education, good laws, and above all, a continual intercourse with the Supreme Being (from which alone can arise firm resolutions, and every ardent thought) should concur: but men, ambitious of submitting a great number of relations to their weak comprehension, would wish to confine them to a few causes. . . . Actuated by a similar motive, many wish to attribute every thing to education; while others pretend, that our natural dispositions are the only source of our actions and intentions, of our vices and virtues. Perhaps, in fact, there is, in the universe, but one expedient and spring, one prolific idea, the root of every other: yet, as it is at the origin of this idea, and not in its innumerable developements, that its unity can be perceived, the first grand disposer of nature only ought to be in possession of the secret: and we, who see, of the immense mechanism of the world, but a few wheels, become almost ridiculous, when we make choice sometimes of one, and sometimes of another, to refer to it exclusively, the cause of motion, and the simplest properties of the different parts of the natural or moral world.” She also partially cites the title of the third chapter of Necker’s work, which she has excerpted from above: “An objection drawn from our natural dispositions to goodness” (Necker, Importance, 70, 67).

With slight deviations in her first sentence, MME quotes from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “Religion is very far from deserving this reproach. That, which raises it indeed above every kind of legislation, is, that it influences equally public good and private happiness. . . . Thus, indirectly, and almost unknown to ourselves, all is in perspective in our moral existence: and it is by this reasoning that, always deluded, we are seldom perfectly deceived. . . . thus, whether we remain solitary, or live in others, the future preserves its influence over us. . . . in short, if all be future in the fate of man; with what interest, with what love, with what respect, ought we not to consider this beautiful system of hope, of which religious opinions are the majestic foundation?” (Necker, Importance, 79, 80, 81).

MME quotes, with only slight deviation in her final three sentences, from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “Religious opinions are perfectly adapted to our nature, to our weaknesses and perfections. They come to our succour in our real difficulties, and in those which the abuse of our foresight creates. But in what is grand and elevated in our nature, it sympathizes most: for, if men be animated by noble thoughts—if they respect their intelligence, their chief ornament—if they be interested about the dignity of their nature, they will fly with transport to bow before religion, which ennobles their faculties, preserves their strength of mind, and which, through its sentiments, unites them to him, whose power astonishes their understanding. . . . But how beautiful is the world, when it is represented to us as the result of a single and grand thought—and when we find, every where, the stamp of an eternal intelligence! and how pleasing to live with the sentiments of astonishment and adoration deeply impressed on our hearts! But what a subject of glory are the endowments of the mind, when we can consider them as a participation of a sublime nature, of which God alone is the perfect model. And how delightful, then, to yield to the ambition of elevating ourselves still more, by exercising our thoughts and improving all our faculties. In short, how many charms has the observation of nature, when, at every new discovery, we believe we advance a step towards an acquaintance with that exalted wisdom, which as prescribed laws to the universe, and maintains it in harmony! . . . with the idea of a God, all is lively, all is reasonable and true. In short, this happy and prolific idea appears as necessary to the moral nature of man, as heat is to plants and to all the vegetable world” (Necker, Importance, 84-85, 86-87).

With the exception of her last sentence, MME quotes closely from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “I have experienced, that the idea of the existence of a Supreme Being threw a charm over every circumstance of life. I have found, that this sentiment alone was able to inspire men with true dignity: for every thing, which is merely personal, is of little value―all that places some an inch high above others. It is necessary, in order to have any reason to glory, that, at the same time we exalt ourselves, we elevate human nature. We must refer it to that sublime intelligence, which seems to have dignified it with some of its attributes. We then hardly perceive those trivial distinctions, which are attached to transitory things, on which vanity exercises her sway. It is then that we leave to this queen of the world her rattle and toys, and that we search elsewhere another portion. It is then, also, that virtue, exalted sentiments, and grand views, appear the only glory of which man ought to be jealous”; and “A man of an exalted character, endowed with sensibility of heart, experiences also the necessity of forming to himself an image of an unknown Being, to which he can unite all the ideas of perfection which fill his imagination. It is to him that he refers those different sentiments, which are useless amidst the corruptions which surround him. It is in God alone, that he can find an inexhaustible subject of astonishment and adoration: and with him alone can he renew and purify his sentiments, when he is wearied with the fight of the vices in the world, and the habitual return of the same passions. In short, at every instant, the happy idea of a God softens and embellishes our path through life: by it we associate ourselves with delight to all the beauties of nature: by it every thing animated enters into communication with us” (Necker, Importance, 95, 90-91).

MME quotes fairly closely from chapter six, “The Influence of Virtue on Happiness”, in Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “In short, virtue has this great advantage, that it finds its happiness in a kind of respect for the rights and claims of the different members of the community, and that all its sentiments seem to unite themselves to the general harmony. The passions, on the contrary, are almost always hostile. . . . Virtue then enlarges the mind, gives dignity to the character, and invests it with every thing becoming. Of all the qualities of men, the most rare, the most apt to create respect, is, that elevation of thought, sentiment, and manners; that majestic consistency of character which truth alone can preserve, but which the least exaggeration, the most trivial affectation, would disconcert or banish. This resembles not pride, and still less vanity; as one of its ornaments is, that it never seeks for the homage of others. The man endowed with real dignity, is placed above even his judges. He accounts not with them: he lives under the government of his conscience: and proud of such a noble ruler, he does not wish for any other dependence. But as this grandeur is entirely within himself, it ceases to exist, when he dictates to others what he expects from them. It can only be restrained in its just limits by virtues, which do not pretend to dazzle. . . . In short, talents, those faculties of the mind which belong more immediately to nature, can never be applied to great things without the aid of morality: there is no other way of uniting the interest of men, and of attaining their love and respect” (Necker, Importance, 95, 99, 102, 103).

With a few minor deviations, MME quotes from chapter eight, “An Objection Drawn from the Wars and from the Commotions which Religion Has Given Rise to”, in Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “Should we be able to throw an odium on the sciences, by recalling all the fatal discoveries which are owing to our researches? Would it be proper to stifle every kind of self-love and activity, by reciting the different crimes which covetousness, pride, and ambition have given rise to? And ought we, then, to desire to annihilate religion, because fanaticism has made an instrument of it to distress the human species?” (Necker, Importance, 117, 118).

MME loosely quotes from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “But we should consider, that we do not fix a just value on the benefits which we have received; for when we take a retrospective view of life, we see it stripped of its two principal ornaments, curiosity and hope” (Necker, Importance, 133).

MME loosely quotes from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “An unknown power opens our eyes to the light, and permits us to view the wonders of the universe. It awakens in us those enchanting sensations which first point out the charms of life. It enriches us with that intellectual gift which re-assembles round us past ages, and the time to come. It confers, in an early hour, an empire, by endowing us with those two sublime faculties, will and liberty. . . . it spreads here and there some difficulties in the road of life—it seems to wish to soften them, by showing us always the future through the enchanting medium of the imagination. . . . In order to exalt this sentiment, we must refer it continually to the idea of a Supreme Being; for there is, we doubt not, a correspondence of instinct and reflexion between our virtue and the perfections of him who is the origin of all things: and provided we do not resist our natural emotions, we shall perceive, from those very perfections, all that is sufficient to excite our worship and adoration; above all, whatever is necessary to serve as an example for our conduct, and to afford principles of morality” (Necker, Importance, 136, 137).

MME paraphrases, reframes in places, and quotes selectively and widely from Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions, while occasionally shifting his points of emphasis: “If, against appearances, you should happen to persuade me, that there now exists an absolute contradiction between the liberty of man, and the prescience of the Deity, it is on the nature and extent of this prescience that I shall raise my doubts; for, forced to choose, I should rather mistrust the judgement of my own mind, than that of an internal persuasion”; “It results, however, from these considerations, that, on account of our extreme ignorance, we cannot accurately define prescience: but we are reduced to examine whether this prescience, considered in a general manner, be incompatible with the liberty of man. . . . But if you grant, that the world had an origin, if you suppose a God, Creator, and Preserver, what arguments would you use, to induce us to believe that this God has no relation to us—that he does not take any notice of us—and that he is thus separated from the offspring of his intelligence and love? You add, vice is every where triumphant: an honest man often languishes in despondency and obscurity; and you cannot reconcile this injustice with the idea of a Divine Providence! One may at first deny the assertion which forms the basis of this reproach, or dispute at least the consequences that are drawn from it. These ideas of triumph and abasement, of splendor and obscurity, are sometimes very foreign to the internal sentiments, which only constitute happiness and misery: and for my part, I am persuaded, that if we take for a rule of comparison, not some particular situation, or some scattered events, but the whole of life, and the generality of men; we shall then find, that the most constant satisfactions attend those minds which are filled with a mild piety, firm and rational, such as the pure idea of the Deity ought to inspire . . . the corporeal body, which distinguishes us to the eyes of others, is only the transitory habitation of that soul which is not to die―of that soul susceptible of continual improvement, and which, by degrees that we can have no idea of, will probably approach insensibly to that magnificent period, when it will be thought worthy of knowing more intimately the Author of nature. . . . The conception of the existence of our souls, is as incomprehensible to us, as that of eternity; what a profound thought, which even our imagination cannot embrace! . . . The nature of the soul will always be as unknown as the essence of the Supreme Being: and it is one of the proofs of its grandeur, to be wrapped up in the same mysteries which hide from us the universal spirit. . . . In short, and this reflexion is the most awful of all, when I see the mind of man grasp at the knowledge of a God—when I see him, at least, draw near to such a grand idea—such a sublime degree of elevation prepares me, in some manner, for the high destiny of the soul. I search for a proportion between this immense thought and all the interests of the world; and I discover none. I search for a proportion between these boundless meditations and the narrow picture of life; and I perceive none. There is then, I doubt not, some magnificent secret beyond all that we can discern; some astonishing wonder behind this curtain, still unfurled; on all sides we discover the commencement of it. . . . How grand is the contemplation of the Eternal, they who have sensibility can tell! But this idea should be very early implanted in the human heart; it is necessary that it should be connected with our first feelings . . . almost all men, astonished and overwhelmed by the ideas of grandeur and infinity, which the appearance of the universe, and the exercise of their own thoughts, present to them, aspire to find repose in the sentiment of adoration which unites them in a more intimate manner to God, than the developement of their reason ever will. . . . But the charm of our relation with the wonders which surround us, arises from experiencing every instant the impression of an infinite grandeur—and feeling the necessity of flying to that mild refuge of ignorance and weakness, the sublime idea of a God. We are continually carried towards this idea by the vain efforts which we make, in order to penetrate the secrets of our own nature: and when I fix my attention on those astonishing mysteries, which seem to terminate, in some manner, the power of our thoughts, I represent them with emotion, as the only barrier which separates us from the infinite Spirit, the source of all knowledge. . . . The transcendent knowledge of some people, is a degree of superiority which disappears when contrasted with the incomprehensible grandeur of nature. . . . we think man presumptuous . . . he should adore, with reverential respect, that powerful Sovereign, who bestows so many blessings on him, and who has made him to sympathize with all the powers of heaven and earth. . . . Man, in immensity, is only an imperceptible point: and yet, by his senses and intelligence, he seems in communication with the whole universe. But how pleasant and peaceable is this communication!” (Necker, Importance, 139, 147-48, 151, 153, 159, 161, 164, 169, 170-171, 172).

MME selectively quotes from and slightly filters Jacques Necker’s Of the Importance of Religious Opinions: “It is then united with the idea of a God, that the spiritual faculties of man attract my homage and captivate my imagination. In reflecting on these sublime faculties, studying their admirable essence, I am confirmed in the opinion, that there exists a sovereign intelligence, soul of nature, and that nature itself is subject to its laws. Yes, we find in the mind of man the first evidence, a faint shadow of the perfection which we must attribute to the Creator of the universe. What a wonder, indeed, is our thinking faculty, capable of so many things; yet ignorant of its own nature! I am equally astonished, by the extent and limits of thinking. An immense space is open to its researches, and at the same time it cannot comprehend the secrets which appear most proximate with it; as the grand motive of action, the principle of intellectual force, ever remains concealed. . . . and it seems to me, sometimes, that I hear this command given to the human soul by the God of the universe: ‘Go admire a portion of my universe, search for happiness, and learn to love me. But do not try to raise the veil, with which I have covered the secret of thy existence. I have composed thy nature of some of the attributes which constitute my own essence. Thou wouldst be too near me, if I should permit thee to penetrate the mysteries of it. Wait for the moment destined by my wisdom; till then, thou canst only reach me by reverence and gratitude.’ Not only the wonderful faculty of thinking connects us with the universal intelligence; but all those inconceivable properties, known by the name of liberty, judgment, will, memory, and foresight; it is, in short, the august and sublime assemblage of all our intellectual faculties. . . . Habit alone turns our attention from the union of wonders which compose the soul: and it is thus, unfortunately, that admiration, lively light of the mind and feelings, does not afford us any more instruction” (Necker, Importance, 190-91, 192).

Quoting selectively and paraphrasing, MME commonplaces widely on this page from Bernardin de St. Pierre’s popular novel, Paul and Virginia, first available in English in 17891789 and which she had enjoyed reading as an adolescent: “Thus it was that these females, constrained by calamity to fall back into nature, had unfolded in themselves, and in their children, those feelings which are the gift of nature, to prevent our sinking under the pressure of calamity. . . . Thus did he attain to perfection in agriculture, and in the art of disposing in order the most irregular spot of ground, merely by the sentiment of love. Doubtless, it is to the delights of this ardent, and restless passion, that men must ascribe the origin of the generality of arts and sciences; and, it is from its privations, that philosophy derives its birth, which teaches us to console ourselves for every loss. . . . ‘Does not experience teach you, that the enjoyment of repose is purchased by fatigue; that of eating, by hunger; that of drinking, by thirst? In like manner, that of loving, and of being beloved, is only to be obtained by a multitude of privations and sacrifices. . . . Add, besides, to the disgust, which always follows satiety, that pride, which springs from their opulence, and which the least privation wounds, even when the greatest enjoyments have ceased to flatter it. The perfume of a thousand roses only pleases for a single moment; but the pain inflicted by one of their thorns, lasts a long time after the wound is received. . . . Every effect is heightened by its contrast; nature has balanced all things equally. Every thing considered then, which state do you conceive to be preferable, that of having nothing to hope for, and all to fear, or, that of having nothing to fear, and every thing to hope for? The first of these states is that of the rich; the second, that of the poor. These extremes, however, are equally difficult to be supported by man, whose happiness consists in mediocrity and virtue’” (St. Pierre, Paul, 54, 103, 134-35).

In quoting and paraphrasing selectively, MME commonplaces from the footnotes in the third edition of Robert Fellowes’s Picture of Christian Philosophy: “I can readily concede to the author of Zoonomia that ideas are fibrous motions of the organs of sense. But it nevertheless appears to me that there is in the human body a sentient principle, which may have a very intimate connexion with the organs of sense, and yet be as different from them, as light is from the surface from which it is reflected, or as the muscular contractions and the vital circulation are from the vital principle. . . . the power which thinks, must be different from the organic parts, which furnish subjects for reflection. . . . In the same way ideas may be sensorial motions, but the master power which regulates and combines those motions, which gives them order and concord, and at whose breath, as it were, the fibres assume a vivid animation, must be of a very different nature from the motions or the fibres themselves. . . . What constitutes individuality? By individuality I mean individual consciousness . . . If ideas constitute consciousness, what can render us conscious of being the same, while the mind is under the influence of so many opposite and unconnected ideas? That power, whatever it be, which gives unity and individuality to the operations of so many fibres, appears to me to constitute what is commonly called the soul. On the supposition of the soul’s being an immaterial particle, or even a very subtle ether, the extinction of the body cannot affect it’s powers or existence. . . . I suppose ideas to be certain forms identified with the organs of sense, and capable of excitement and reproduction by the stimuli of pleasure and pain, volition and association. If ideas be certain forms, identified with the organs of sense, they may give personality to the separate fibres, but how can they give unity to the complicated web of sensitive powers which are spread over the body? Every idea being a certain configuration and motion of a sensorial fibre, it seems necessary that there should be a governing principle to give homogeneity and unity to the multiplicity of these configurations and motions, without which we should be unconscious of being the same under different impressions. Though this principle may not be an immaterial particle, yet it may be a simple fluid of extreme and inconceivable subtlety. It may be diffused over the whole system, but accumulated in the brain and the organs of sense, sympathetically imbibing all the pains and pleasures that vibrate on the sensorial fibres, and transferring to them an energetic power, to harmonize and individuate the infinity of their variations in figure and sensation. . . . By a law of divine attraction, infinitely stronger than any which chemistry exhibits, it might pass in a few moments of time into other regions in the immensity of space. The consciousness of it’s past incorporation with the organic fibres of the human being would be carried with it, with all the association and ideas which the senses communicated to it in it’s mortal state. If the soul, or matter of consciousness, be neither an immaterial particle, nor a simple ethereal fluid, which, on it’s extrication from this body, immediately associates with other intelligent forms in other states; if it be solely constituted of the sensorial fibres, it must certainly perish and be extinguished with those fibres. And though these very fibres may, in some future time, revive from their dust in other organic forms, we can have no hope that their former associations and motions will revive with them; and unless they do, there can, with respect to the individual, be no continuation of existence. St. Paul, by drawing his similitude of the resurrection from the grain dying in the earth, and giving life to a more beautiful organization, seems to hint that this body invelopes the principle of a higher and more perfect existence, which death is to unfold. This principle I understand to be that which I express by the matter of consciousness . . . When extricated from the body it may display more vigorous and active energies” (Fellowes, Christian, 229-30, 231, 232, 233, 234).

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An indented horizontal line is drawn across approximately one third of the page here; the text on this line is positioned flush right.

This numeral is positioned in the top right corner, likely indicative of MME’s pagination system. As we explain in the Introduction to this Almanack, MME paginates three (or possibly only two) of its eight pages; based on the flow of the sources she is quoting, our pagination system differs from hers by one page; as with many of the Almanacks, Folder 43 may have originally included one or more pages in addition to the eight represented here.

This numeral is positioned in the top left corner, likely indicative of MME’s pagination system. As we explain in the Introduction to this Almanack, MME paginates three (or possibly only two) of its eight pages; based on the flow of the sources she is quoting, our pagination system differs from hers by one page; as with many of the Almanacks, Folder 43 may have originally included one or more pages in addition to the eight represented here.

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After this word, MME has drawn what appears a heart-shaped doodle with a long stroke through its center, connecting to and possibly an artistic flourish from the “y” in “body” on the above line.

This line is indented.

Two marks in the top left corner of this page may be the numeral one followed by a horizontal flourish to its right. The next page, however, does not contain any numeral similarly functioning as a page number.

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These words are run together with what appears to be an ink blot, such that the final “t” in “that” is connected with no break to the “i” in “it’s.”

Because MME is quoting her commonplace source with much greater fidelity than is her norm, this poorly formed letter may serve as an abbreviation for the source’s “and.”

We are construing this mark as a poorly formed colon. It is formed by two large vertical strokes and does not resemble the comma that appears in MME’s source text here, nor does it resemble a semi-colon or exclamation point.

Preceding this word is a vertical mark whose function is not clear.

MME has partially encircled the “f” with a series of dots; at the bottom of this half-circle, she vertically writes “x x.” Two additional drawings add to this unusual graphic: an unusually long flourish on the loop of the “f,” to the left of which is an indistinguishable letter or flourish. The purpose of these marks is not clear.

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The words “Their lofty rules maid” are on a separate line and are positioned flush right.

The words “of the soul” are on a separate line and centered. They are preceded above by two centered horizontal blank lines drawn across the page.

The word “Virtue” is on a separate line and centered. It is preceded above by a centered horizontal blank line drawn across the page.

The word “death” is on a separate line and centered. It is preceded above by a short centered horizontal blank line drawn across the page.

The words “Aristotilean phi.” are centered and on a separate line. They are preceded above by a short centered horizontal blank line drawn across the page.

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This word (“Mathe.”) is centered on preceding line and functions as the heading of the next lines.

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The words “4 memorable epochs in Greec 1 age of” are on a separate line and are flush right. These words are preceded above by a centered horizontal blank line drawn across the page.

The words “Europe least in extent superior in laws religion ats arms & commerce” are on a separate line and are preceded above by a centered horizontal blank line drawn across the page.

Following “superior” in the manuscript, MME has cancelled a comma.

MME ranges widely across and conflates several pages in commonplacing from Joseph Priestley, Doctrines of Heathen Philosophy Compared with Those of Revelation. In doing so she quotes, misquotes, repurposes, and otherwise alters this source material, as follows: “The being of a god, or of gods, for Plato uses both the phrases promiscuously, he generally takes for granted. Occasionally, however, he introduces arguments for his opinion . . . from the consideration of the structure of the earth, the sun, the stars, and the whole universe. . . . He also argues ‘from the variety of seasons, dividing time into years and months, and also from the consent of all nations, Greeks and Barbarians’ . . . considering all that we see here as the object of the senses, he supposes these ideas to be invisible to the senses, but comprehended by the intellect; and though they exist in the divine mind, the intellect of man has free access to them. He therefore calls them things intelligible, and says that what we see here are only the shadows of them, and changeable, whereas those intelligible ideas are the only things that are unchangeable, and permanent. . . . All the meaning that I can make of this doctrine of ideas, perceived by the intellect, and not by the sense, things not fluctuating and variable, as the objects that we converse with are, is that they mean what we call abstract ideas, as those of horses, men, trees, &c. divested of the circumstances of colour, size, place, &c., which always attend individual objects; and in this there is no great mystery, but still every actual idea has some peculiarity or other, as well as real object. On this mysterious doctrine of ideas, which were personified by the later Platonists, and made a kind of second god, the immediate author of the creation, was founded the doctrine of the christian trinity . . . The term by which he generally characterizes the Supreme Being is in the singular number, viz. the Good . . . This principle, however, he did not carry so far as the Stoics, who maintained that God was incapable of anger, so that he would not punish even the wicked. . . . ‘That there are gods . . . and that they are good, and respect justice more than men, is the best introduction to a body of laws . . . The humble follow him quiet and composed, but he that is elevated by his riches, his beauty, or any other advantage, as if he stood in no need of a guide, is deserted by him; and though such a person may appear enviable to man, in the end he destroys himself, his family, and the state. . . . God is altogether simple, and true in his words and actions. He neither changes himself, nor can he deceive others . . . God . . . takes care . . . of the smallest things as well as of the greatest. . . . He cannot be called a wise physician who only attends to the body in general, and not to the particular parts.’ . . . There is hardly any advantage that men are possessed of that Plato does not ascribe to the gods, and to their good will to men. ‘It appears to me,’ he says . . . that God sent gifts to men by Prometheus, together with fire. It is not by art, he says . . . but by nature, and the favour of the gods, that we cultivate the earth.’ . . . He evidently considered all the celestial bodies as animated, and intitled to the rank of gods. ‘The divine race of stars, he says . . . must be considered as celestial animals, with most beautiful bodies, and happy blessed souls; and that they have souls is evident from the regularity of their motions.’ . . . Having distinguished the crime of impiety into three kinds, viz. the maintaining that there are no gods, that they take no care of human affairs, or that they are easily appeased by sacrifices . . . he prescribes the following punishment for the different degrees of guilt in this respect. ‘If a man neglect the gods by omitting sacrifices and despising oaths, he must be punished, lest he make others like himself. . . . They who think the gods neglect human affairs, and they who think them easily appeased, are not to be confounded. They who think so not from any bad principle, but a kind of madness, should be imprisoned not less than five years, without any citizen being allowed to go near them, except those who admonish them of their errors.’ . . . ‘Every soul . . . is immortal. . . . The soul existed . . . before bodies were produced, and it is the chief agent in the changes and the ornament of the body.’ So greatly superior, in the idea of all the heathen philosophers, was the soul to the body, the latter being intirely subservient to the former, that we cannot wonder that they consider the soul as the whole self of a man, and the body as a thing foreign to him. . . . ‘In truth, the soul of each of us is immortal, and goes to the other gods, to give an account of its actions.’ . . . The body is not the man, but the soul . . . which makes use of, and commands, the body.’ . . . On the subject of virtue and vice . . . His belief in the being and providence of God, and in a future state of retribution, must have laid a foundation for piety, and the practice of virtue in general, if what he advances on those subjects were his real sentiments; and the frequency with which he urges them, and the stress that he lays upon them, makes it difficult to believe that they were not. . . . There are three remarkable exceptions to the moral maxims of Plato, in which he would not have had the concurrence of Socrates, viz. his recommending a community of women in his commonwealth, his approbation of perjury in matters of love, and in the licentiousness which he would allow soldiers on a military expedition. . . . In what Plato says on the subject of death, and the consequence of it, we see the stress he laid on the practice of Virtue in general, though without distinguishing particular virtues or vices; and if he may be understood literally, his sentiments are decidedly in favour of a future state of retribution . . . As Plato’s account of a future state has such a mixture of fancy and fable, and so little support from argument, his declaration of his belief of it will admit of much doubt as well as what he says of the immortality of the soul in general. . . . . The Philosophy of Aristotle . . . ‘What the pilot is in a ship,’ he says . . . ‘What the charioteer is in his chariot . . . God is in the world.’ . . . I would observe on this, that philosophy . . . considers every thing in the universe as, in a proper sense, equal in the eye of God, who made the smallest things as well as the greatest, as equally subservient to his purpose. . . . Even some christian philosophers seem still to be intangled in this idea, when they speak of the operation of general laws, as if they could relieve the deity from any part of his immediate agency. For what are laws, or general rules, in the hands of those who have no power to execute them? . . . But what is that law, or any other law of nature, without a power of agency? . . . And what we call general laws cannot be any thing else than his general mode of acting, or exerting his power and influence. Incomprehensible as this must ever appear to us, it is not the only circumstance relating to the Supreme Being that is so. In fact, all his attributes, and especially his eternal and necessary existence must ever be so to finite minds, that is, to all Beings except to himself. . . . Of the human Soul . . . Though Aristotle did not, with many other philosophers, consider the soul as the whole of a man’s self he acknowledged it to be the principal part of a man. . . . He did not think so meanly of the body as not to be of opinion that it had some properties in common with the soul. . . . Of Happiness, and of Virtue and Vice. . . . He considers every circumstance that is reputable, and that makes a man to appear to advantage in the eyes of others, as a virtue . . . and every thing that is disreputable, as a vice . . . As to the great object of heathen philosophy in general, which was to enable men to bear the evils of life, and the fear or the pains of death, he never, that I recollect, so much as mentions the subject; but treats of generation and dissolution merely as natural phenomena, to be explained upon physical principles, but he never regards them in a moral light. On the consequence of death, and a state of retribution after it, he is likewise wholly silent . . . Of the Stoical Philosophy of Marcus Antoninus and Epictetus. . . . It was a fixed maxim with the Stoics, as it was with Socrates, from whom none of the founders of sects that came after him pretended to differ, that there is a principle of intelligence, wisdom and also, of benevolence, directing all the affairs of the world and of men . . . In their writings we find nothing of the lewdness, the cruelty, and caprice of the gods of Homer and Virgil . . . ‘We should live,’ he says . . . ‘with the gods; and this any person will do who preserves his mind in a disposition to acquiesce in what is appointed him’ . . . That this universal mind has a perfect knowledge of all things, even of what passes in the minds of men, was the belief of the Stoics, as well as of Socrates. ‘God,’ says Marcus Antoninus . . . ‘sees all minds divested of their coverings and flesh. By his own mind alone he sees them as derived from him.’ . . . He, however, takes it for granted that all good and evil is the dispensation of the gods, and therefore he holds it as a fixed maxim to be thankful for the former, and patiently to bear the latter. . . . He seems sometimes, however, to consider such an order of things established from all eternity as would render all prayer, sacrifices, &c. useless. ‘Whatever happens to you . . . was destined for you from all eternity. This’ he says, ‘was done . . . by a certain fate. . . . If there be a God,’ he says . . . ‘every thing is right.’ According to him, this made the existence of any thing properly evil absolutely impossible. ‘Nothing . . . can be hurtful that is good for the whole; and every thing in the universe must be good for it.’ . . . That this system is in a progressive state of continual improvement was not the doctrine of the Stoics. It was rather their opinion that, after a certain period, every thing would return to the state in which it had been before . . . Treating of death, Marcus Antoninus says . . . ‘If every thing be ordered by providence, I venerate the supreme ruler and, depending upon him, am unmoved.’ From his opinion of the duty of submission to the divine will, he excellently observes . . . ‘the gods either have power, or no power. If they have no power, why do you pray? If they have power, why do you not rather pray that you may be without anxiety about an event, than that the event may not take place?’ . . . Like Socrates, the emperor connected the practice of morality with religion . . . ‘He that fears pain . . . fears what must be in the world, and this is impious; and he who follows pleasure will not refrain from injustice, which is certainly impious.’ . . . Of the Human Soul. . . . In like manner, having no idea of a proper creation, i.e. out of nothing, they considered the highest principle in man, viz. that of intelligence, as the same in all, derived from the same source; and this they conceived to be the supreme intelligence, which disposed and directs the affairs of the whole universe, and like the principle of animal life, they held that, being detached from this source at the birth of every man, it was absorbed into it again after his death, as a drop of water (to use a comparison that is frequent with them) is absorbed and lost in the ocean. Consequently, its separate existence, and separate consciousness, then vanished. . . . And as the supreme intelligence is incapable of suffering from evil of any kind, they transferred this extraordinary power to the soul; maintaining that nothing foreign to itself could affect it without its own consent, so that it is in every man’s power to be completely happy, whatever his outward circumstances may be. This sentiment, which has an air of great sublimity, tended to inspire the Stoics with a sense of native dignity, rendering them superior to every thing mean and base; but it excluded humility, and many amiable and useful virtues, peculiarly adapted to the state of society with beings equally imperfect with themselves. . . . The dignified sentiments maintained by the Stoics concerning the human soul lead us to expect great elevation of mind with respect to virtue; and in this we shall not be disappointed, as far as virtue in their ideas of it extended; and it comprehended every thing that relates to the due government of the passions, all the relative duties, and those that affect the intercourse between man and man. They also made happiness to depend entirely on the practice of virtue, independent on any foreign consideration, such as the fear of punishment, the hope of reward, or the opinion of others, expressed in praise or censure. . . . the Stoics considered every thing that is foreign to the calm dictates of reason, all emotions and passions, as belonging to mere animal nature; seeing that men have them in common with brutes. . . . they professed to have no indignation against the vices of men, but considered them like evils, and inconveniences of any other kind, at which it does not become any man to be disturbed, being agreeable to the order of the nature. Accordingly, Marcus Antoninus having observed that we have no reason to complain of the gods with respect to any thing that befalls us, adds . . . ‘Neither are men to be complained of. For neither do they offend willingly. It is the part of man . . . to love those who offend them . . . When I consider that the person who injures me . . . is a partaker of the same intellect, and portion of the divinity, that I cannot be injured by him, that he has no power to draw me into any thing dishonest, I cannot be angry with him, or hate him. . . . When you take any thing ill . . . you forget that every thing takes place according to the nature of the universe. If we consider these things only as evils which depend upon our own wills, we shall see no reason for blameing, or bearing ill will to, any man.’ . . . For the wisdom of providence in the permission or appointment of evil is never mentioned by Marcus Antoninus. That such things as evils of every kind must be, is the amount of all that he says on the subject . . . Of the various Evils of Life. . . . One rule of Epictetus, however, is truly valuable, if it could be applied. But the Stoics always imagined that much more was in their power than really was so. ‘Do not . . . seek to find things as you wish them to be, but wish for that which actually is, and you will pass your life in tranquility.’ The great difficulty in this case . . . is in the application of such a rule; and other principles, out of the sphere of their philosophy, but comprehended in those of christianity, are necessary to assist in this. This great excellence of character, which raises some men so much above the level of their species, and which rendered them superior to all the evils of life . . . the Stoics ascribed wholly to philosophy . . . ‘It is a mark,’ says Epictetus . . . ‘of the common people to look for loss or gain from what is external to them, but the philosopher expects nothing but from himself. The proof that he is a philosopher, is, that he censures no person, commands no person, complains of no man, never boasts of himself . . . If he meets with obstacles from his acquaintance he blames only himself. If any person praise him he laughs at him, and if he be censured he does not excuse himself’” (Priestley, Doctrines, 123, 124, 126, 127, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 136-37, 138, 144, 145, 146, 147, 149, 153, 158, 161, 168, 169, 171-72, 176-77, 179, 180, 183, 186, 188, 189-90, 191, 192, 193, 194-95, 196, 197, 198-99, 205, 207-8, 209-10, 211, 212, 213, 220, 221).

MME quotes, misquotes, repurposes, and otherwise alters the source material from her reading in Henry Kett, General Knowledge, Introductory to Useful Books in the Principal Branches of Literature and Science“But the glorious sun of liberty again displayed itself at the reformation, was again obscured by the conflict of king and people, and finally shone forth with meridian glory at the revolution . . . The struggles of contending factions gave birth to the exertions of Milton, Sidney, Locke, and Somers. These writers were the founders of new political schools; and we may rank among their disciples a Montesquieu, a Rousseau, a Voltaire, a Franklin, and a Washington. If ever the American is disposed to boast of the freedom of his country, let him recollect, that the lessons of that freedom were taught him by the parent state. When the French maintain, that the plans of any of their varying forms of democracy, since the revolution of 1789, have originated solely in the abstract principles and deduction of reason, do they not forget that Britain first suggested to their legislators their best and most approved maxims of government . . . It is evident that the British constitution has reached its present state of improvement, not so much in consequence of the deep and refined speculations of philosophers and politicians, as by the concussion of discordant interests, and the hostility of contending parties. The struggles for power before the revolution were very numerous, and in some of them the rights of kings were as flagrantly insulted as those of the people. The measures frequently employed for the destruction of the constitution, particularly in the reign of James II. were the means that ultimately strengthened its powers . . . As the king is wholly dependent upon the other branches of the constitution for pecuniary aid, he is debarred from the execution of frivolous or ambitious projects, even were his ministers inclined to suggest them; and can only execute those plans, which are determined by the voice of the majority of his parliament to be conducive to the good of the nation. The constitution of England includes the essence of the three different forms of government which prevail in the world, without their attendant disadvantages; for we have democracy without confusion, aristocracy without rigour, and monarchy without despotism. These principles are so compounded and mixed, as to form a political system, which is capable of producing more freedom, and true independence, than the renowned commonwealths of Athens and Rome could boast, or perhaps than was ever enjoyed by any other state in its highest prosperity and perfection. . . . Logic . . . renders the greatest service to science, learning, virtue, and religion. Logic is the art of forming correct ideas, and of deducing right inferences from them; or it may be said to constitute the knowledge of the human mind, inasmuch as it traces the progress of all our information, from our first and most simple conceptions of things, to those numerous conclusions, which result from comparing them together. It teaches us in what order our thoughts succeed each other, and it instructs us in the relation which subsists between our ideas, and the terms in which we express them. It distinguishes their different kinds, and points out their properties; discovers the sources of our intellectual mistakes, and shows how we may correct and prevent them. It displays those principles and rules, which we follow, although imperceptibly, whenever we think in a manner comformable to truth. . . . It is therefore by due cultivation, and proper diligence, that we increase the vigour of our minds, and carry reason to perfection. . . . An affirmative proposition connects the predicate with the subject, as ‘a stone is heavy;’ a negative proposition separates them, as ‘God is not the author of evil.’ . . . But if we say, ‘this world had a beginning,’ the assertion is, indeed, equally true, but shines not forth with the same degree of evidence. We find great difficulty in conceiving how the world could be created out of nothing, and are not brought to a full assent to the assertion, until by reasoning we arrive at a clear view of the absurdity involved in the contrary supposition. Hence this proposition is of the kind we call demonstrable, inasmuch as its truth is not immediately perceived, but yet may be made evident, by means of others more known and obvious, whence it follows as an unavoidable consequence. III. Reasoning. It frequently happens, in comparing our ideas together, that their agreement or disagreement cannot be discerned at first sight, especially if they are of such a nature, as not to admit of an exact application to each other. . . . The great art consists in finding out such intermediate ideas, as, when compared with others in the question, will furnish evident truths . . . If Aristotle was not the first, who reduced logic to a system, he was certainly the most eminent of logicians. He claims the invention of the whole theory of syllogisms. . . . But after mankind had involved themselves in the labyrinths of Aristotelian disputation for near two thousand years, and perplexed their understandings to little purpose, the great lord Bacon proposed the method of induction, as a more effectual means of arriving at truth. By Induction is meant a general inference drawn from several particular propositions. This method has contributed very materially to the improvement of the arts, and the increase of knowledge, more particularly in the researches of natural philosophy. . . . the ingenious author of “The Chart and Scale of Truth” makes this excellent remark. . . . if the general propositions, or secondary principles, be imperfectly or infirmly established . . . or by arbitrary assumption, like those of Aristotle, all the syllogising in the world is a vain and useless logomachy . . . The Mathematics. . . . By an early attachment to these elegant and sublime studies we acquire a habit of reasoning, and an elevation of thought, which fixes the mind; and prepares it for every other pursuit. From a few simple axioms, and evident principles, we proceed gradually to the most general propositions, and remote analogies . . . the doctrine of fluctions is founded upon this principle, that all magnitudes or quantities are supposed to be generated by motion. Thus, a line is supposed to be generated by the motion of a point, a surface by the motion of a line, and a solid by the motion of a surface. . . . Mixed mathematics . . . Mechanics is that science which treats of the motion and equilibrium of bodies. . . . The general subject is, the doctrine of motion, the most considerable of all others, for establishing the first principles of philosophy by geometrical demonstration. . . . He [ Newton ] applied astronomy to rectify the computations of chronology . . . By GENIUS is generally meant a disposition of nature which qualifies any one for a peculiar employment in life: but in its highest sense, considered with reference to the fine arts, it may be described to be that faculty of the mind which unites the greatest quickness of sensibility, and fervour of imagination, to an extraordinary ease in associating the most remote ideas in the most striking manner . . . If therefore the student in our laws . . . has enlarged his conceptions of nature and art by a view of the several branches of genuine experimental philosophy; if he has impressed on his mind the sound maxims of the law of nature, the best and most authentic foundation of human laws; if, lastly, he has contemplated those maxims, reduced to a practical system in the laws of imperial Rome; if he has done this, or any part of it, a student thus qualified may enter upon the study of the law with incredible advantage and reputation.” (Kett, Elements, 2:32,33, 34, 36, 43-44, 52-53, 55-56, 59-60, 67, 73, 83, 86, 158, 279). In the remaining lines of this Almanack, MME commonplaces from volume one of this source as follows: “We may distinguish the remarkable periods of Grecian history by four memorable epochs. The first is the age of Solon, or the establishment of the laws, B.C. 594; the second is the age of Aristides, or of martial glory, B.C. 480; the third of Pericles, or of luxury and the arts, B.C. 430; and the fourth that of Mahomet II , or complete degradation, A.C. 1453. . . . The Romans . . . In the vast compass of their dominions, from the Euphrates to the Atlantic Ocean, and from the Danube to the deserts of Libya, was felt the influence of their laws” (Kett, Elements, 1:279, 293). “EUROPE although the smallest of these divisions, in extent of country, is by far the most eminent with respect to religion, laws, learning, arts, arms, and commerce. ASIA is remarkable for the number of inhabitants, fertility of soil, and variety of climate. . . . There the most ancient Empires were founded, the Will of God was revealed to Man, and Mahomet spread his Imposture. . . . The vast Peninsula of AFRICA united to the Continent of Asia by the isthmus of Suez, rich in gold . . . the British Settlements of Sierra Leone, and Bulama, established for raising the productions of the West Indies, without the aid of miserable slaves, and a commerce in human flesh. Egypt, whence of old beamed the light of Science and Civilization, is renowned for its stupendous pyramids, the most ancient monuments of human labour extant, the periodical inundations of the Nile, and the degraded condition of the natives foretold in the holy Scriptures . . . At the extreme point of the Continent—the Cape of Good Hope, the tribes of the Caffres with an invincible ferocity . . . AMERICA . . . Its north east division . . . includes the coasts peopled by the Colonists from Great Britain. The southwest part includes the fertile provinces of Mexico and Louisiana, the former belongs to Spain, the latter is ceded by that power to the French, who originally planted a colony there, and have lately sold it to the United States of America’” (Kett, Elements, 1:181-2).

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MME quotes from a review of Germaine de Staël’s Germany“This theory which we have thus abridged is most ingenious, and exhibits in the liveliest form the distinction between different systems of literature and manners. It is partly true; for the principle of race is doubtless one of the most important in the history of mankind; and the first impressions on the susceptible character of rude tribes may be traced in the qualities of their most civilized descendants.— But, considered as an exclusive and universal theory, it is not secure against the attacks of sceptical ingenuity. The facts do not seem entirely to correspond with it. It was among the Latin nations of the south, that chivalry and romance first flourished. Provence was the earliest seat of romantic poetry. A chivalrous literature predominated in Italy during the most brilliant period of Italian genius. The poetry of the Spanish peninsula seems to have been more romantic and less subjected to classical bondage than that of any other part of Europe. On the contrary, chivalry, which was the refinement of the middle age, penetrated more slowly into the countries of the north. In those less polished regions, it was more rugged and obscure, and did not descend, as in the south, with that splendour and renown which acted upon the imagination of succeeding times. In general, the character of the literature of each European nation seems extremely to depend upon the period at which it had reached its highest point of cultivation. Spanish and Italian poetry flourished while Europe was still chivalrous. French literature attained its highest splendour after the Grecian and Roman writers had become the object of universal reverence. The Germans cultivated their poetry a hundred years later, when the study of antiquity had revived the knowledge of the Gothic sentiments and principles. Nature produced a chivalrous poetry in the sixteenth century; learning in the eighteenth. Perhaps the history of English poetry reflects the revolution of European taste more distinctly than that of any other nation. We have successively cultivated a Gothic poetry from nature, a classical poetry from imitation, and a second Gothic from the study of our own ancient poets” (“De L’Allemagne,” 206-7).

MME commonplaces at length from several pages in Joshua Toulmin, Memoirs of the Life, Character, Sentiments and Writings of Faustus Socinus, quoting, misquoting, distilling, and repurposing this material as follows:  “Socinus when he is treating of the divine and sovereign power with which CHRIST is invested, observes: ‘That the passages which ascribe this power to him are too numerous and too explicit to admit of any figurative sense, from which it might be inferred that he did not really possess such great power. For instance (says he) when CHRIST declares, John v. 22, 23. The father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment to the Son; that all should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father: the words so plainly and emphatically attribute a divine and sovereign power to CHRIST, as to leave no room for any figurative sense . . . And this demonstrates, that the ground upon which CHRIST is to be honoured by all men, is the greatest and most distinguished of those prerogatives which the Father himself possesseth, and which can by any means be communicated to another. . . . Hence it necessarily follows, that the all judgment which CHRIST declares was given to him by the Father, must signify that government of all men . . . who does not now exert it in his own Person and by himself immediately, but the person and by the agency of CHRIST’. . . . I find Socinus further explaining his ideas on the subject of CHRIST’S power, and of its extent, in a Letter to a Friend who seems to have mistaken what he had advanced on the point. . . . ‘I mean to include all things that have, or can have, any even remote connection with his Church and the individual members of it; so that I comprehend in my words those things which, out of the Church, have yet a respect to it. For there is no one thing (although you seem to think otherwise) which may not have some relation to the Church. Nay, the things that may have such an influence are infinite, as you yourself must of course confess, if you consider the extent of this earth, or rather of the universe, and the events that daily take place in it. For have I any where either tacitly or expressly denied, that our daily bread, necessary for the support of life, is to be asked from CHRIST, provided he who solicits it, or he for whom it is requested, or the prayer itself, has any connection with or relation to the things we speak of.’ . . . His sentiments on the Divine Perfections, The Original State of Man, The Fall, Predestination, and Justification . . . ‘You ought to consider that the Eternity of God is necessarily and plainly included in the notion of his self-existence and sole divine dominion over us. For this implies and is almost expressly to assert, that he has no beginning. For to possess divine dominion from himself alone, is nothing else but to possess it from his own nature, and to derive it from no other being. But it necessarily follows, that he who possesseth any thing from his own nature, and not by derivation from another, hath himself no beginning: otherwise he does not possess it naturally, but by communication . . . Unlimited and infinite Power, Wisdom and Goodness also belong to the divine Essence. Under goodness I include what also others do, justice, or rather rectitude, and equity; and by wisdom I mean a knowledge of and acquaintance with things. Before I enlarge on these Attributes I must shew how it necessarily results from the idea of God’s being possessed of a divine empire over us solely, and from himself, that these attributes are in him supreme and unlimited, And it follows thus; the Being who possesseth such an empire, must necessarily be the most perfect Existence, since he is by nature supreme over all, and consequently all his attributes must be perfect and supreme . . . Therefore, as power, wisdom and goodness are excellencies, it is not only necessary that all these should dwell in him, but even be supreme and perfect. . . . I cannot but think as the divine Essence is numerically one, there are not many divine Persons, but one only. For we have no authority of reason or Scripture to suppose that should take place in the divine Essence, which can by no means happen in any other. . . . Numerical essence therefore, and such all confess is the divine Essence, is that which is most properly called essence, some single individual nature, which subsists by itself. . . . every person is numerically an essence, but not every essence numerically a person. For there must needs be added, to what is otherwise sufficient to constitute a numerical essence, Intelligence, that it may be a person.—When therefore it is most certain, that a numerical essence endued with intelligence differs nothing from a person, it of course follows, that if there be many persons in GOD, there are also many numerical essences in him; which every one will conceive and confess is most absurd and impious. . . . I do not see the necessity, as is generally thought, that because the power of GOD is immense, his essence also is immense. For the immensity either of his power, or of any of the attributes of GOD, is not of the same kind as that which is ascribed to his essence, and of which we are now speaking. For the latter relates to quantity, if it be proper to speak thus when discoursing of the Divine Being, but the former relates to quality. . . . But perhaps it will be urged, that nothing infinite can arise from what is finite, since, as it is generally said, there is no proportion between finite and infinite. To this I answer, that the divine Power itself, of which, by way of example, we are now expressly treating, is so infinite, or as we have before termed it, uncircumscribed by any limits, that it reaches to all things possible to be done, without exception. For there are some things that are by no means possible to be effected: such are all things, as we have before hinted, which imply a contradiction; for instance, what is commonly alleged in the theological schools, That what is done cannot be undone. To these things all grant the power of God doth not extend, from which it is clear the power of GOD is not so infinite, that there should be no proportion between that and the essence of GOD’ . . . He endeavoured to support it by arguments drawn from the power with which man was endued of increasing and multiplying, whereas the immortal do not beget children—from the use of food, which an immortal frame does not require—from his body being of the animal kind, which is mean and corruptible, and evidently different from a spiritual and immortal body—from being indulged the use of the tree of life, which would be useless for an immortal nature—from the existence of all the causes that lead to death, before man sinned—and from his being earthly, because formed of the earth, and as earthly mortal . . . With respect to the power of Man to discover, by the light of nature, the Being of GOD, and the Truths of what is called natural Religion, SOCINUS thought that these principles were above his natural powers; and that the first notices of a Divine Being, were derived from Revelation, or immediate communications from GOD. . . . ‘ARISTOTLE in particular, who appears to have surpassed all in the penetration of his genius, not only saw the frame of the world as well as the rest of mankind, and with many others contemplated it; but even diligently searched into and examined the universe and all its parts, and yet could not arrive at this point, even to the supposition that GOD took care of the lowest particular parts of it, or to perceive his Providence over the individuals of mankind’” (Toulman, Memoirs, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 215, 216, 217, 218).