Whether Emerson's constant belief in the Over-soul, his stubborn theism, his persuasion of an immanent God, was an advantage or a disadvantage to his philosophical view of the universe may be doubted. On the one hand, we cannot question the fact that he owed to it his enthusiastic faith in the substantial unity of creation, his optimism, his assurance of future progress, his confidence in man, his moral earnestness, his elevation of soul, his buoyancy of spirit, his forwardness in all endeavors after reform. On the other hand, it can hardly be denied that it led him to take some things for granted, diverted his mind from the unprejudiced observation of phenomena, prevented his rendering full justice to the scientific method, was the cause of wide aberrations in his estimates of human character, and of a curious onesidedness in his judgments on human condition. Emerson was always profoundly religious, at heart a supernaturalist. The blood of centuries of pious ancestors was in his veins. His soul was uppermost, not his intellect nor his heart. He was a closet man, a minister at the altar. True, he rejected every form of the religious sentiment, and moved with entire freedom among dogmas however expressed in word or in rite. Every attempt at giving voice to spiritual emotion was disagreeable to him. I like a church; I like a cowl; I like a prophet of the soul; And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains or pensive smiles; Yet not for all his faith can see Would I that cowled churchman be. Theology had fallen from him like a shroud. He would not venture any definition of the spiritual laws. Doctrine had become faith; prayer was changed into aspiration; the speechless utterance was the only one he cordially listened to. But faith he held fast; aspiration he cherished; the inarticulate language of the eternal was ever in his ears. Ever and anon would come a burst of conviction. "Oh, my brothers, God exists!" he cries in an ecstasy of emotion. Some years ago Emerson seemed fascinated by the inductive method, so that some of his admirers thought he would become a convert to physical science. But the bent of his nature asserted itself, and he pursued the deductive system as before. His passion for "First Truths," as they were called, was irresistible. He could not abandon the philosophy of intuition, and all his studies--comprehensive, profound, and original as they were,--his insatiable thirst for knowledge, his inordinate appetite for details of fact, incidents, anecdotes, gleanings from literature of every kind, were subservient to this.