230 A SUNDAY IN CHEYNE ROW. 



On the other hand, Emerson evidently tires of Car- 

 lyle's long-winded heroes. He would have him give 

 us the gist of the matter in a few sentences. Cre- 

 mate your heroes, he seems to say ; get all this gas 

 and water out of them, and give us the handful of 

 lime and iron of which they are composed. He hun- 

 gered for the " central monosyllables." He praises 

 Cromwell and Frederick, yet says to his friend, " that 

 book will not come which I most wish to read, name- 

 ly, the culled results, the quintessence of private con- 

 viction, a liber veritatis, a few sentences, hints of the 

 final moral you drew from so much penetrating in- 

 quest into past and present men." 



This is highly characteristic of Emerson ; his bid 

 for the quintessence of things. He was always im- 

 patient of creative imaginative works ; would sub- 

 lunate or evaporate them in a hurry. Give him the 

 pith of the matter, the net result in the most pun- 

 gent words. It must still be picture and parable, 

 but in a sort of disembodied or potential state. He 

 fed on the marrow of Shakespeare's sentences, and 

 apparently cared little for his marvelous character- 

 izations. One is reminded of the child's riddle : 

 Under the hill there is a mill, in the mill there is a 

 chest, in the chest there is a till, in the till there is 

 a phial, in the phial there is a drop I would not give 

 for all the world. This drop Emerson would have. 

 Keep or omit the chest and the mill and all that cir- 

 cumlocution, and give him the precious essence. But 

 the artistic or creative mind does not want things 



