Much of “Nature” is about how people are disconnected from themselves and from nature, and how they must consequently spend time in nature to fix their current corrupted state. But Emerson takes his argument a step further by outlining how, exactly, he thinks people should study, interact with, and learn from nature in order to become whole again. He suggests that, when it comes to learning about (or from) nature, people rely too heavily on their “understanding”—that is, discovering intellectual facts or objective truths through observation. And while he admits that understanding has merit, Emerson says that it’s crucial for people to lean on their intuition (which he calls “reason”) to grasp nature’s moral and spiritual teachings.
One way people can learn from nature is by using their understanding—using observation to learn intellectual truths or facts. Emerson stresses that all parts of nature “is a school for the understanding—its solidarity or resistance, its inertia, [...] its divisibility. The understanding adds, divides, combines, [and] measures [...].” Citing concepts from physics and algebra, Emerson suggests that understanding is what comes from meticulous, scientific, objective methods of observing and studying the world. He provides the example of “the astronomer, [and] the geometer”—a type of scientist and a type of mathematician, respectively—and explains that they “rely on their irrefragable analysis,” meaning the objective, indisputable conclusions they’re able to draw about the world because of their observations. (Though Emerson does contradict this idea at points throughout the essay, claiming that scientists use abstract reasoning more than physical observation.) This kind of careful observation and analysis is valuable, Emerson says, but it’s ultimately incomplete on its own.
Understanding, though essential, must be paired with intuition (“reason”) for people to grasp the full scope of nature’s teachings. In the chapter about language, Emerson explains that “Every natural fact is a symbol of some spiritual fact.” In other words, it’s not enough to know objective facts about nature, because those facts are also infused with spiritual truths that extend beyond mere understanding. For example, while mere observation can show someone that moss only grows on completely unmoving objects, there’s a spiritual or moral truth underpinning the idea that “A rolling stone gathers no moss”: a person who’s always moving from place to place can’t set down roots in a community or be successful. To Emerson, “All the facts in natural history taken by themselves, have no value,” so observation must be coupled with reason for a person to access all of nature’s valuable truths. Emerson describes tossing a stone into a stream and watching the water ripple, and how the experience suddenly reminds him of “the flux of all things.” While a fisherman, by contrast, might watch the ocean crash over the rocky coastline again and again and learn “firmness” (i.e., strength of character) from the rocks. But in both cases, observing how stones and water interact leads to gleaning deeper spiritual or ethical truths about the human experience.
Emerson suggests that there is an “ethical character [that] so penetrates the bone and marrow of nature”—another way of saying that nature is infused with moral lessons. Even religious figures like David and Jesus, Emerson notes, have turned to nature for this kind of moral guidance. Natural truths (i.e., facts about nature) and moral truths are like faces looking at one another through glass—or, in modern phrasing, they’re two sides of the same coin. Emerson writes that “The axioms of physics translates the laws of ethics,” by which he means that objective facts about the natural world (like laws of physics) actually express moral laws or truths, too. For example, the phrases “reaction is equal to action,” or “the whole is greater than its part” are both scientific truths, but they can also be applied to life more broadly (e.g., “the whole is greater than its part” might be used to describe how a team is more effective than each individual working on their own). Overall, Emerson stresses that understanding and intuition must be woven together for a person to access the full depth of nature’s teachings.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Reason, Understanding, and Truth ThemeTracker
Reason, Understanding, and Truth Quotes in Nature
The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our own works and laws and worship.
Philosophy considered, the universe is composed of Nature and the Soul. Strictly speaking therefore, all that is separate from us, all which Philosophy distinguishes as the NOT ME, that is, both nature and art, all other men and my own body, must be ranked under this name, NATURE. In enumerating the values of nature and casting up their sum, I shall use the word in both senses—in its common and in its philosophical import. […] Nature, in the common sense, refers to essences unchanged by man; space, the air, the river, the leaf. Art is applied to the mixture of his will with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a statue, a picture. But his operations taken together are so insignificant, a little chipping, baking, patching, and washing, that in an impression so grand as that of the world on the human mind, they do not vary the result.
In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life—no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground—my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space—all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing. I see all. The currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.
To the body and mind which have been cramped by noxious work or company, nature is medicinal and restores their tone. The tradesman, the attorney comes out of the din and craft of the street, and sees the sky and the woods, and is a man again. In their eternal calm, he finds himself. The health of the eye seems to demand a horizon. We are never tired, so long as we can see far enough.
Space, time, society, labor, climate, food, locomotion, the animals, the mechanical forces, give us sincerest lessons, day by day, whose meaning is unlimited. They educate both the Understanding and the Reason. Every property of matter is a school for the understanding—its solidity or resistance, its inertia, its extension, its figure, its divisibility. The understanding adds, divides, combines, measures, and finds everlasting nutriment and room for its activity in this worthy scene. Meantime, Reason transfers all these lessons into its own world of thought, by perceiving the analogy that marries Matter and Mind.
Therefore, that spirit, that is, the Supreme Being, does not build up nature around us, but puts it forth through us, as the life of the tree puts forth new branches and leaves through the pores of the old. As a plant upon the earth, so a man rests upon the bosom of God: he is nourished by unfailing fountains, and draws, at his need, inexhaustible power.
The reason why the world lacks unity, and lies broken and in heaps, is, because man is disunited with himself. He cannot be a naturalist, until he satisfies all the demands of the spirit.
