The Humors of Falconbridge: A Collection of Humorous and Every Day ScenesFalconbridge
General
The Humors of Falconbridge: A Collection of Humorous and Every Day Scenes
Falconbridge
American wit and humor
During this time, half of the audience, especially the old women and the
children, look around, fearful of the ceiling falling in, or big bugs
lighting on them. But the pause is for a moment, and anxiety ceases when
they learn it was only a false alarm, only--
"Egotism! The lame, the pestiferous exhalation or concrete malformation
of society!"
You breathe freer, and Ralph goes in, gloves on.
"Egotism! A metaphysical, calcareous, oleraceous amentum of--society!
The mental varioloid of this sublunary hemisphere! One of its worst
feelings or features is, the craving of sympathy. It even loves
sickness, because actual pain engenders signs of sympathy. All
cultivated men are infected more or less with this dropsy. But they are
still the leaders. The life of a few men is the life of every place. In
Boston you hear and see a few, so in New York; then you may as well die.
Life is very narrow. Bring a few men together, and under the spell of
one calm genius, what frank, sad confessions will be made! Culture is
the suggestion from a few best thoughts that a man should not be a
charlatan, but temper and subdue life. Culture redresses his balance,
and puts him among his equals. It is a poor compliment always to talk
with a man upon his _specialty_, as if he were a cheese-mite, and was
therefore strong on Cheshire and Stilton. Culture takes the grocer out
of his molasses and makes him genial. We pay a heavy price for those
fancy goods, Fine Arts and Philosophy. No performance is worth loss of
geniality. That unhappy man called of genius, is an unfortunate man.
Nature always carries her point despite the means!"
If that don't convince you of Ralph's high-heeled, knock-kneed logic, or
_au fait_ dexterity in concocting flap-doodle mixtures, you're ahead of
ordinary intellect as far as this famed lecturer is in advance of gin
and bitters, or opium discourses on--delirium tremens!
In short, Ralph Waldo Emerson can wrap up a subject in more mystery and
science of language than ever a defunct Egyptian received at the hands
of the mummy manufacturers! In person, Mr. Ralph is rather a pleasing
sort of man; in manners frank and agreeable; about forty years of age,
and a native of Massachusetts. As a lawyer, he would have been the
horror of jurors and judges; as a lecturer, he is, as near as possible,
what we have described him.
Humbug.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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