Brook Farm: Historic and Personal Memoirs Part 24

Since visiting you my fears have given place to an ardent desire to become one of your Community, not to come as an alien and a stranger but as a sister in full communion, with a heart full of love and affection and with a strong desire to act my part fully and to do all required of me.

You will find I have great skill and ingenuity in work, understanding almost all kinds, and have, I am told, a good faculty to plan and perform it, so I hope that I shall be of real use to you. You will not think I am trying to flatter you or myself. Husband's idea is this: he says when people trade they place their commodities in the best light and speak of their desirable qualities, and this is so much like trading ourselves off that we have a right to give some idea of ourselves as an offset for what we expect to receive.

Mr. Brewster has sound, unbroken health, untiring strength and great skill and ability to work. He often says he would not go where he could not work--but he would like more time to read than he gets here. He has great power and skill in doing heavy work and great patience and industry in doing small and light work; talents not often combined in one individual. He is just as handy and skilful in planting and weeding and planning a flower garden, or in potting plants and tending them, as in doing the heaviest work. He loves birds and flowers, but _bees_ are his _hobby_; he loves them as a mother loves her children. If he comes among you, you must let him have a hive of bees or I fear he would tire of a.s.sociation. Ah! a new thought just strikes me. Bees are _a.s.sociationists_ and that accounts for his great love of them.

I cannot believe that you will ever regret the possession of such a working man. Furthermore, you will rarely find two united with more willing hearts and hands and more cheerful tempers. We have never been, so far, either of us unhappy in any situation. Our family is not large; it consists of three daughters, one of eleven, one eight and the last three years of age, twenty-fifth of May last--they all have one birthday. We shall probably bring with us, if you make no objection, a girl who is bound to us, and there remains three years of unexpired service--a very stout, strong girl, who loves coa.r.s.e work and who is Mr. Brewster's mesmeric subject.

Mr. Brewster is a lineal descendant of old Elder Brewster, of the fifth generation on the paternal side and a lateral descendant on the maternal side. He thinks that accounts for his being so ardent an a.s.sociationist, as Elder Brewster started his colony on that plan and failed--and perhaps this E. Brewster will do the same thing. But seriously, because the first failed it is no reason that the second should, for the world was not as well prepared for unitary life then as now. Mr. Brewster thinks he would rather help you provide for winter than to be doing the same here.

May the blessing of Heaven attend you all at Brook Farm.

E. B. B. BREWSTER.

APPENDIX.

PART III.

AN OUTSIDE VIEW OF BROOK FARM.

_From the Dial of January, 1844._

Wherever we recognize the principle of progress our sympathies and affections are engaged. However small may be the innovation, however limited the effort towards the attainment of pure good, that effort is worthy of our best encouragement and succor. The inst.i.tution at Brook Farm, West Roxbury, though sufficiently extensive in respect to number of persons, perhaps is not to be considered an experiment of large intent. Its aims are moderate; too humble, indeed, to satisfy the extreme demands of the age; yet for that reason, probably, the effort is more valuable, as likely to exhibit a larger share of actual success.

Though familiarly designated a "Community," it is only so in the process of eating in commons; a practice at least as antiquated as the collegiate halls of old England, where it still continues without producing, as far as we can learn, any of the Spartan virtues. A residence at Brook Farm does not involve either a community of money, of opinions or of sympathy. The motives which bring individuals there, may be as various as their numbers. In fact, the present residents are divisible into three distinct cla.s.ses; and if the majority in numbers were considered, it is possible that a vote in favor of self-sacrifice for the common good would not be very strongly carried.

The leading portion of the adult inmates, they whose presence imparts the greatest peculiarity and the fraternal tone to the household, believe that an improved state of existence would be developed in a.s.sociation, and are therefore anxious to promote it. Another cla.s.s consists of those who join with the view of bettering their condition, by being exempt from some portion of worldly strife. The third portion comprises those who have their own development or education for their princ.i.p.al object.

Practically, too, the inst.i.tution manifests a threefold improvement over the world at large, corresponding to these three motives. In consequence of the first, the companionship, the personal intercourse, the social bearing, are of a marked and very superior character. There may possibly to some minds, long accustomed to other modes, appear a want of homeness and of the private fireside; but all observers must acknowledge a brotherly and softening condition, highly conducive to the permanent and pleasant growth of all the better human qualities. If the life is not of a deeply religious cast, it is at least not inferior to that which is exemplified elsewhere, and there is the advantage of an entire absence of a.s.sumption and pretence. The moral atmosphere, so far, is pure; and there is found a strong desire to walk ever on the mountain tops of life; though taste, rather than piety, is the aspect presented to the eye.

In the second cla.s.s of motives we have enumerated there is a strong tendency to an important improvement in meeting the terrestrial necessities of humanity. The banishment of servitude, the renouncement of hireling labor and the elevation of all unavoidable work to its true station, are problems whose solution seems to be charged upon a.s.sociation; for the dissociate systems have in vain sought remedies for this unfavorable portion of human condition. It is impossible to introduce into separate families even one half of the economies which the present state of science furnishes to man. In that particular, it is probable that even the feudal system is superior to the civic; for its combinations permit many domestic arrangements of an economic character, which are impracticable in small households. In order to economize labor, and dignify the laborer, it is absolutely necessary that men should cease to work in the present isolated, compet.i.tive mode, and adopt that of cooperative union or a.s.sociation. It is as false and as ruinous to call any man "master," in secular business, as it is in theological opinion. Those persons, therefore, who congregate for the purpose, as it is called, of bettering their outward relations, on principles so high and universal as we have endeavored to describe, are not engaged in a petty design, bounded by their own selfish or temporary improvement. Everyone who is here found giving up the usual chances of individual aggrandizement, may not be thus influenced; but whether it be so or not, the outward demonstration will probably be equally certain.

In education Brook Farm appears to present greater mental freedom than most other inst.i.tutions. The tuition being more heart-rendered, is in its effects more heart-stirring. The younger pupils, as well as the more advanced students, are held mostly, if not wholly, by the power of love. In this particular, Brook Farm is a much improved model for the oft-praised schools of New England. It is time that the imitative and book-learned systems of the latter should be superseded or liberalized, by some plan better calculated to excite originality of thought and the native energies of the mind. The deeper, kindly sympathies of the heart, too, should not be forgotten; but the germination of these must be despaired of under a rigid hireling system. Hence Brook Farm, with its spontaneous teachers, presents the unusual and cheering condition of a really "free school."

By watchful and diligent economy, there can be no doubt that a community would attain greater pecuniary success than is within the hope of honest individuals working separately. But Brook Farm is not a community, and in the variety of motives with which persons a.s.sociate there, a double diligence and a watchfulness perhaps, too costly will be needful to preserve financial prosperity. While, however, this security is an essential element in success, riches would, on the other hand, be as fatal as poverty, to the true progress of such an inst.i.tution. Even in the case of those foundations which have a.s.sumed a religious character, all history proves the fatality of wealth. The just and happy mean between riches and poverty is, indeed, more likely to be attained when, as in this instance, all thought of acquiring great wealth in a brief time is necessarily abandoned, as a condition of membership. On the other hand, the presence of many persons, who congregate merely for the attainment of some individual end, must weigh heavily and unfairly upon those whose hearts are really expanded to universal results.

As a whole, even the initiative powers of Brook Farm have, as is found almost everywhere, the design of a life much too objective, too much derived from objects in the exterior world. The subjective life, that in which the soul finds the living source and the true communion within itself, is not sufficiently prevalent to impart to the establishment the permanent and sedate character it should enjoy. Undeniably, many devoted individuals are there; several who have, as generously as wisely, relinquished what are considered great social and pecuniary advantages, and, by throwing their skill and energies into a course of the most ordinary labors, at once prove their disinterestedness, and lay the foundation for industrial n.o.bility.

An a.s.semblage of persons, not brought together by the principles of community, will necessarily be subject to many of the inconveniences of ordinary life, as well as to burdens peculiar to such a condition. Now Brook Farm is at present such an inst.i.tution. It is not a community; it is not truly an a.s.sociation; it is merely an aggregation of persons, and lacks that oneness of spirit, which is probably needful to make it of deep and lasting value to mankind. It seems, after three years'

continuance, uncertain whether it is to be resolved more into an educational or an industrial inst.i.tution, or into one combined of both.

Placed so near a large city, and in a populous neighborhood, the original liability for land, etc., was so large as still to leave a considerable burden of debt. This state of things seems fairly to ent.i.tle the establishment to re-draw from the old world in fees for education, or in the sale of produce, sufficient to pay the annual interest of such liabilities. Hence the necessity for a more intimate intercourse with the trading world, and a deeper involvement in money affairs than would have attended a more retired effort of the like kind. To enter into the corrupting modes of the world, with the view of diminishing or destroying them, is a delusive hope. It will, notwithstanding, be a labor of no little worth, to induce improvements in the two grand departments of industry and education. We say _improvement_ as distinct from _progress_; for with any a.s.sociation short of community, we do not see how it is possible for an inst.i.tution to stand so high above the present world as to conduct its affairs on principles entirely different from those which now influence men in general.

There are other considerations also suggested by a glance at Brook Farm, which are worthy the attention of the many minds now attracted by the deeply interesting subject of human a.s.sociation. We are gratified by observing several external improvements during the past year; such as a larger and more convenient dining room, a labor saving cooking apparatus, a purer diet, a more orderly and quiet attendance at the refections, superior arrangements for industry, and generally an increased seriousness in respect to the value of the example which those who are there a.s.sembled may const.i.tute to their fellow beings.

Of about seventy persons now a.s.sembled there, about thirty are children, sent thither for education; some adult persons also place themselves there chiefly for mental a.s.sistance; and in the society there are only four married couples. With such materials it is almost certain that the sensitive and vital points of communication cannot well be tested. A joint-stock company, working with some of its own members and with others as agents, cannot bring to issue the great question whether the existence of the individual family is compatible with the universal family, which the term "Community" signifies. This is now the grand problem. By mothers it has ever been felt to be so.

The maternal instinct, as. .h.i.therto educated, has declared itself so strongly in favor of the separate fireside, that the a.s.sociation, which appears so beautiful to the young and unattached soul, has yet accomplished little progress in the affections of that important section of the human race--the mothers. With fathers, the feeling in favor of the separate family is certainly less strong; but there is an undefinable tie, a sort of magnetic _rapport_, an invisible, inseverable umbilical cord between the mother and child, which in most cases circ.u.mscribes her desires and ambition to her own immediate family.

All the accepted adages and wise saws of society, all the precepts of morality, all the sanctions of theology, have for ages been employed to confirm this feeling. This is the chief corner stone of present society; and to this maternal instinct have, till very lately, our most heartfelt appeals been made for the progress of the human race, by means of a deeper and more vital education. Pestalozzi and his most enlightened disciples are distinguished by this sentiment. And are we all at once to abandon, to deny, to destroy this supposed stronghold of virtue? Is it questioned whether the family arrangement of mankind is to be preserved? Is it discovered that the sanctuary, till now deemed the holiest on earth, is to be invaded by intermeddling scepticism, and its altars sacrilegiously destroyed by the rude hands of innovating progress?

Here "social science" must be brought to issue. The question of a.s.sociation and marriage are one. If, as we have been popularly led to believe, the individual or separate family is the true order of Providence, then the a.s.sociate life is a false effort. If the a.s.sociate life is true, then is the separate family a false arrangement. By the maternal feeling it appears to be decided that the coexistence of both is incompatible--is impossible. So also say some religious sects.

Social science ventures to a.s.sert their harmony. This is the grand problem now remaining to be solved, for at least the enlightening, if not for the vital elevation, of humanity. That the affections can be divided, or bent with equal ardor on two objects so opposed as universal and individual love, may at least be rationally doubted.

History has not yet exhibited such phenomena in an a.s.sociate body, and scarcely, perhaps, in any individual.

The monasteries and convents, which have existed in all ages, have been maintained solely by the annihilation of that peculiar affection on which the separate family is based. The Shaker families, in which the two s.e.xes are not entirely dissociated, can yet only maintain their union by forbidding and preventing the growth of personal affection other than that of a spiritual character. And this, in fact, is not personal in the sense of individual, but ever a manifestation of universal affection. Spite of the speculations of hopeful bachelors and aesthetic spinsters, there is somewhat in the marriage bond which is found to counteract the universal nature of the affections to a degree tending at least to make considerable pause, before they can be blended into one harmony.

The general condition of married persons at this time is some evidence of the existence of such doubt in their minds. Were they as convinced as the unmarried of the beauty and truth of a.s.sociate life, the demonstration would be now presented. But might it not be enforced that the two family ideas really neutralize one another? It is not quite certain that the human heart cannot be set in two places; that man cannot worship at two altars? It is only the determination to do what parents consider the best for themselves and their families, which renders the o'er populous world such a wilderness of selfhood as it is.

Destroy this feeling, they say, and you prohibit every motive for exertion. Much truth is there in this affirmation. For to them no other motive remains, nor indeed to any one else, save that of the universal good, which does not permit the building up of supposed self-good, and, therefore, forecloses all possibility of an individual family.

These observations, of course, equally apply to all the a.s.sociative attempts, now attracting so much public attention; and perhaps most especially to such as have more of Fourier's designs than are observable at Brook Farm. The slight allusion in all the writers of the "Phalansterian" cla.s.s, to the subject of marriage, is rather remarkable. They are acute and eloquent in deploring woman's oppressed and degraded position in past and present times, but are almost silent as to the future. In the meanwhile, it is gratifying to observe the success which in some departments attend every effort, and that Brook Farm is likely to become comparatively eminent in the highly important and praiseworthy attempts to render labor of the hands more dignified and n.o.ble, and mental education more free and loveful. C. L.

a.s.sOCIATIVE ARTICLES.

_"a.s.sociation the Body of Christianity" by John S. Dwight._

The world has been divided between infidels and bigots. In a.s.sociation there will be neither, for it will remove their causes. The framework of society is false which drives to such extremities. For most a.s.suredly these opposites proceeded from one common centre, and will most gladly gravitate back again to that, so soon as the general order becomes just and genial to the real character and purpose of each individual soul.

Unbelief is torment, as much as any obstinate refusing of food, and no one courts it because he will, but only accepts it because he must. On the other hand, exclusive religionism has too much consciousness of secret sympathy with its avowed antipodes, to enjoy itself much better.

They are only opposite forms of the same denial; opposite feelings from the same great central wrong. They seem to hate each other; it is only because they are not permitted to embrace: let them transfer their hate to that which separates them. And what is that?

It is the want of unity and of all recognition of unity in the material interests of men. If the material interest of each harmonized with the material interest of all, as fully as their spiritual interests do, the immediate result would be that the material and spiritual would harmonize with one another. Then religion would not have to renounce the world to save its very life; nor would the believer in natural reason and the lover of justice cry, "Away with all religion, since it leaves the world so bad!"

There are certain instincts and convictions in every human soul which call for love and truth and justice. There is a revelation from G.o.d which confirms them all. One n.o.ble life was all made up of these high qualities, a present incarnation of these seemingly almost unattainable ideals, and freely gave itself for man. Some say it was very G.o.d; all acknowledge that such virtue is the divinest thing known, that such love stands for the Most High, and that to reverence and obey it, is to obey the very saving principle of human nature; that such obedience, in fact, is perfect freedom. So that, leaving intellectual dogmas and theories out of the question, the essence of what is called Christianity is the natural faith of the human heart, and all men do in their heart of hearts long to have a Christian spirit and to have that prevail throughout the world.

But while the spirit of Christ is unity, the material interests of men are without unity. In the whole body politic of life, the unity of the human race is not at all implied. On the contrary, everything contradicts the idea. Every man in seeking his material interests becomes the rival and antagonist of every other man. To gain his bread he must sacrifice friendship, generosity and even honor. He must keep his convictions of n.o.bleness and justice for a beautiful and holiday idea; he must consign them to the keeping of religion; and she, like the gentle wife at home, has careful instructions not to show her beautiful face in the market place. It is hard; since in the market place mankind are doomed to spend the most part of their life; and very many men and women and children _all_ their life, except what nature claims for sleep.

If there be no way, then, of realizing the unity of man with man, of growing into the beauty of Christian love and fellowship, by the very act which earns us bread; if there be no reconciling of religion with this worldliness; if there be no possibility of raising in the very market place the song, "The Lord is in his temple"; if religion calls us one way and necessity another; if business is to be based on principles which render ineffectual every prayer for the spirit of love and charity; if work is the dissevering of all the bonds which thought and speech and sentiment and blessed dreams and holy influences, with all the help, too, of G.o.d's Holy Spirit, strive to weave;--then is Christianity impotent, a heavenly voice that mocks mankind.

But no! As surely as Christ taught the love of G.o.d and of the neighbor, so surely did his prediction imply a change in the material organization of society which should fit it to be the container of this heavenly spirit. Did he think to "put new wine into old bottles"? Must not the spirit of Christianity create unto itself a _body_? It is a fruitless abstraction until it does. And this, if we read the signs aright, is the demand of this age. This is the tendency of all social movements. The material basis of our life, our social and industrial system, is entirely incompatible with the moral conviction and duties of this age. Our social economy all represents and preaches selfishness; but the idea of Christian love, the vision of unity and brotherhood, is born in the mind, and makes terrible and unendurable contrast with this state of things. The world is nearly ripe for the kingdom of heaven--the organization of society precludes it.

a.s.sOCIATION is the word that solves the problem. The earnest and believing hearts of this day everywhere have certain hopeful lookings towards that; and at this providential moment science comes and offers us the key which shall unlock the whole sphere of material interests to its true lord, the spirit of religious love and unity. The organization of attractive industry will be the reconciliation of spirit and matter, of religion and the world; it will be the admission of Christ into all our spheres; it will make all nature holy, and clothe religion in the garb of nature.

_Extract from a lecture on a.s.sociation in its Connection with Religion, by Charles A. Dana._

It is now more than eighteen hundred years since that annunciation of the coming of peace on earth and good-will to men, at which the world might well have trembled with a new and mighty hope. The Divine Infant, whose birth the celestial choirs thus celebrated, grew up to man's estate, still bearing within him that blessed promise; he went about on earth, imparting new life to the broken-hearted and forlorn, and uttering words of such heavenly significance, that to this day there is nothing that thrills the hearts of men with so true a power. At last he gave his life a testimony to those eternal truths, and died in great bodily agony, still publishing the prophecy that welcomed his birth, still announcing the kingdom of peace and love, the kingdom of G.o.d on earth.

His followers have since grown to cover great continents; whole nations acknowledge those few words of his as their most sacred possession; great temples are built in which his life and death are solemnly commemorated, and men gladly yield their hard-won treasure to carry his history to distant regions that his name has never reached. And yet, my friends, where is that kingdom of peace and love; where, where in the whole wide world is the will of G.o.d done as it is in heaven? Is it even thought of as anything but a dream, an impossibility? Does not a sceptical smile steal over the faces of men, when an earnest and enthusiastic person speaks of it as a thing yet actually to be?

And yet it is only what Christ taught us to hope for and pray for. We are not deceived; no one of us is mistaken in the vision that in innocent and blessed moments visits us all. No man who utters that sacred pet.i.tion prays in vain. For the kingdom of G.o.d, the reign of peace and good-will among men, shall surely come. Not in mystical raptures, not in feverish trances, not in imagination, but in reality--in actual outward peace and beauty, and in the abiding spirit of love, filling humanity and sanctifying the earth to be the worthy temple of so divine a presence.

And yet, who that beholds only the present condition of the Christian church, to which these sacred ideas have been especially entrusted; who that sees the body of Christ thus torn and discordant, would imagine that a consummation of this imperishable hope was any longer possible?

Might we not despair, seeing these centuries of terror, of revolution, of injustice and of perpetual hatred, and seeing that the very disciples of the spirit of love have lost the memory of their Master--might we not despair, and cry out with them, that the earth was given over to evil, and that the kingdom of G.o.d would never come?