Boston City (part 11 of 67)

Of the influences of which we have spoken, Dr. Channing's preaching and writings are among the earliest in point of time. His connection with our theological and Antislavery history has been treated by other hands.1 He belonged quite decidedly and avowedly to what we may call, in ac¬ cordance with the distinctive terms before indicated, the Intuitive School. This philosophy derives our knowledge from the intuitions of the soul, and is in opposition to that recognizing the senses and experience as its only ultimate source. We are informed by an intimate friend of Channing, who was very familiar with his thought, that he repudiated Locke's philosophy while in college, and accepted, on moral and metaphysical questions, the statements of Price in his Dissertations on Matter and Spirit, and of Hutch¬ eson's moral philosophy. He recognized also a harmony between his own thought and that of the German systems of philosophy as reported by Madame de Stael. He acknowledged his obligation to the poetry of Wordsworth and Coleridge, and to the philosophy of the latter he con¬ sidered himself specially and greatly indebted. He also read with pleasure Cousin's Philosophy and the writings of Carlyle, particularly his Sartor Resartus. These tastes will indicate, to those acquainted with the currents of thought at that period, his position with regard to the two parties, which we may designate as the Old and the New, - or, as the latter was called in the language of the time, the Transcendental School. This attitude of his, especially after his part in the Antislavery movement, and in advocating the broadest toleration and freedom in some unpopular cases, - like that of Abner Kneeland, who was indicted for blasphemy, - grieved some of his friends, and offended and disaffected others among the conservatives, who had been wont to listen with delight to his preaching, and who had reverenced the saintliness of his character. In the controversy between Professor Norton and Mr. Ripley we think his sympathy was with the latter, though the former had long been his personal friend.

Although Dr. Channing did not have occasion to advocate distinctly any special system of philosophy, yet the spirit of the school most in harmony with his own thought and pervading his preaching and writing, whose influence was so widely felt, must have had its effect on the prevailing thought of the day. Notwithstanding his philosophic tendencies were deci¬ dedly in the direction we have indicated, he must not be regarded as sympa- thizing fully with all the forms and phases of the Transcendental 1 2 move¬ ment; but his chief interest in philosophy we may suppose was in its relation to religion and morals ; and this philosophy, in his view, formed the only true foundation for these.

1 As we shall have frequent occasion to use the terms Transcendental, etc., we wish to say that this will not be in any very exact or strictly accurate sense, but in a rather vague and popu¬ lar one, as convenient for our purpose to de¬ note certain general tendencies of thought and opinion.

2 [The literature regarding Charming is very extensive, and has recently received many new accessions on account of the centennial of his birth, April 7, 1880, - notably Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody's Reminiscences of Channing, the most important of the later contributions, which have included Dr. C. A. Bartol's Essay in his Principles and Portraits. See also the latter's article "Transcendentalism" in his Radical Problems , and Charles T. Brooks's William Ellery Chan¬ ning, a Centennial Memory. The Unitarian Review , April, 1880, contained papers on him by Dr. J. H. Morison, George L. Chaney, and others. A volume, with an account of the Cen¬ tennial Celebration in Brooklyn, was issued at Boston in 1880. Professor G. P. Fisher, of Yale, printed an estimate of him in the International

The fermentation of thought and feeling developed by the Transcen¬ dental movement, especially among the young, has, we think, nothing sim¬ ilar at the present day, and is something very interesting to recall : perhaps devotion to art and practical philanthropy have taken its place. Foremost among the influences that stimulated and sustained this state of feeling were the writings and the public addresses, lectures, etc. of Mr. Emerson. At first he was known to a small but admiring circle -as a most interesting preacher, remarkable for independence and originality of thought as well as charm of style and manner ; and by many, especially of the congregation of which he was pastor, and by those who knew him more familiarly, he was valued also for higher and more intimate qualities. But he had not much attracted the notice of the general public until his opinion and action in relation to the observance of the communion service caused a good deal of feeling in the body of Christians with which he was associated. As he could not, with his views, continue to administer the rite, his connection with the society of which he was the minister was dissolved. After ^ his return from a visit to Europe fN he gave a number of lectures; and several of them relating to his tour abroad were of a descriptive char¬ acter. These 'were afterward fol¬ lowed by several courses in 1835 and successive years; and, besides, he delivered public addresses on different occasions. The subjects of these discourses were some of a literary, but mostly of a philosophical and ethi¬ cal, character.1

In 1836 appeared a little volume called Nature , which, like his other early works, excited the enthusiastic admiration of some, and provoked the adverse criticism or ridicule of others. The earlier courses of the lectures are pleasantly associated, in the recollections of some, with the hall of the Old Masonic Temple in which they were given ; and they constituted an era in the social and literary history of Boston, as well as in the life and culture of many individuals. They were looked for from year to year as one of the special pleasures of the winter season. Thus the influence of his writ¬ ings, but more particularly of his lectures, was deeply and widely felt. To his hearers they seemed to open a new world, - new charms in literature, in Nature, and in thought; new and deeper delights and significance in living,

Revino, July, 1879, included also in his Discus¬ sions. Thomas Hughes's Paper on " Dr. Channing the Abolitionist " is in Macmillan's Maga¬ zine, May, 1880. He is one of the subjects of James Freeman Clarke's Memorials. Of the earlier books, William H. Charming's Memoir and Correspondence of W. E. Channing, Boston, 1854, 3 vols., is the authoritative life; and it may be supplemented by the Correspondence of IV. E. Channing and Lucy Aiken, 1826-1842, edited by Anna Letitia le Breton, Boston, 1S74. The

French know him through Remusat's Channing, sa vie et ses oeuvres, based on W. H. Channing's Life of him ; Renan's Studies of Religious His¬ tory ; Lavollee's Channing, sa vie et sa doctrine , 1876; and Laboulaye's estimate, which originally appeared in the Journal des Debats, 1852, and is now prefixed to the French translation of Channing's Works. - Ed.]

giving an interpretation of their own minds, souls, and being, so different from the dogmatic formulas and conventional statements common in that sterility of thought in which " the hungry sheep look up, and are not fed." do what were these effects due? What was the secret of this influence? We may say, perhaps, that it was the assertion of the high powers, dignity, and integrity of the soul, its absolute independence and right to interpret for itself the meaning of life, untrammelled by tradition and conventions; the assertion of the soul with its ideas and instincts as the oracle within, the source to us of knowledge and thought in its intimate connection with the source of all life and truth; of the right and duty of all to look at truth and the facts of the universe face to face, thus calling to self-reliance and cheerful hope; teaching and inspiring by his own deep conviction the real¬ ity of truth and good ; opening glimpses of the eternal beauty, and impart¬ ing the joy of high thoughts and lofty purpose. These, with the incidental charm of the beauty, piquancy, and condensed expressiveness of his style ; the refined simplicity of his manner ; the calm earnestness and sincerity pervading his words, - combined with the remarkable ethical character, the power of touching the springs of highest moral emotion and of lifting his hearers into a loftier sphere, " an ampler ether, a diviner air," - were some of the attractions which drew year after year, with increasing interest, multi¬ tudes of young and old, conservatives and radicals, the highly cultivated and those in whom a quick sensibility to what is high and pure supplied the place of culture. In hearing him, a serene and cheerful faith and hope seemed to them to flow over the world and over human life like a brighter atmosphere. And this it was which the young could feel and understand ; so that when, if we may be allowed to repeat once more a jest which has been told over and over again to weariness, a man of distinction for learning and ability declared that he could not understand Mr. Emerson but his daughters could, he spoke more truly than he knew.

The term excitement, applied to the feelings of his hearers, seems hardly the proper one. It was rather sometimes like the enlivening effect of the morning breeze, sometimes like the transporting and at the same time tranquilizing effect of high and solemn music, dissolving the hard rigors of life, and infusing sweetness and hope.

The feelings, however, excited by Mr. Emerson's position and words were not all admiration, but some of a quite opposite character. It is amusing and instructive (when we consider the position he now holds, and how almost universally he is the object of such loving and reverent regard, distinguished and admired in the literature and thought of both hemi¬ spheres) to recall the way in which he was once regarded and spoken of by a large number of those considered to be the dispensers of correct opinion and taste, and equally so to read the current criticism of his earlier productions.1

1 The following remarks from an article in of distinguished reputation and position, may the Christian Examiner, May 1841, by a scholar be taken as a specimen of the way in which VOL. IV. - 39.

Many who disliked the general tone of what he said contented themselves with ridicule, for which some peculiarities of his style seemed to offer oppor¬ tunity ; others laughed at what they deemed his fanciful and unsound notions, and at the craze of the young people concerning him. Among these, some who knew and esteemed him personally smiled good-naturedly at what seemed novelties or oddities, and at the infatuation of their children ; but others took it more seriously. Wise and good men who had labored with earnestness and fidelity in the belief of certain opinions and religious doc¬ trines, the foundations of which seemed assailed or threatened by the free¬ dom with which Mr. Emerson spoke, were pained and offended, especially by his address before the students of the Cambridge Theological School, in July, 1838, in which he spoke of beliefs devoutly cherished by many, not irreverently indeed, but with a freedom which was to them a grief and an offence. Some of his hearers of the conservative class, attracted by the charm of his lectures, tolerated as they might the freedom with which he touched on the exciting and controverted questions of the day in consid¬ eration of their enjoyment in listening to him, though at times disturbed or offended when he came too near matters connected with fierce debate and controversy.1

Although Mr. Emerson cannot be said to belong to any school or sys¬ tem of philosophy as such, yet the character and tendency of his thought

Emerson's writings, both as to style and thought, were regarded at the time:- "Mr. Emerson is. an extravagant and erratic genius, setting all authority at defiance, sometimes writing with the pen of an angel, and sometimes gravely propounding the most amazing nonsense. . . . He has expressed such sovereign contempt for consistency, that we must not look for that virtue in what he may choose to say ; if we do, we shall look in vain. In its place we shall often encounter point blank contradictions. . . . His writings are thickly studded with oddities gathered from the most unfrequented paths of English literature ; and when we add to this the supersublimated transcendentalism of the New Platonic style which he now and then affects, we must not wonder if Mr. Emerson's phraseology frequently passes the comprehension of the vul¬ gar. Moreover, he plays certain tricks with words which disfigure his pages not a little." Of his Essays the same writer says : " The Essay under the affected title of the 'Oversoul' is the most objectionable of all of them, both as re¬ gards sentiment and style. . . . From the praises which the author's genius would otherwise de¬ serve, large deductions must be made on the score of whim, oddity, and affectation." These things read curiously to us who have lived to know the estimation in which Mr. Emerson and his works are now held.

Heroism, so full of deepest eloquence. The audience had been carried on and lifted up by its calm and solemn tone to the passage begin¬ ning, " Times of heroism are generally times of terror ; but the day never shines in which this element may not work." Going on, he says : " More freedom [/. e. at this time] exists for culture. It will not now run against an axe at the first step out -of the beaten track of opinion. But whoso is heroic will always find crises to try his edge. Human virtue demands her cham¬ pions and martyrs, and the trial of persecution always proceeds. It is but the other day that the brave Lovejoy gave his breast to the bullets of a mob, for the right of free speech and opin¬ ion, and died when it was better not to live." We remember how some of his friends and sympathizers felt the sort of cold shudder which ran through the audience at this calm braving of the current opinion. " He died as the fool dieth " had been the popular dictum about Lovejoy and his death ; and this solemn exalting him as a hero and martyr seemed almost an insult to the admiring crowd, who were wholly unprepared for this unexpected turn and shock to their feelings and notions. We have heard some of those who had for him a special regard and sym¬ pathy describe their terror, almost, at what they felt was so obnoxious to his audience. Mr. Emerson also delivered addresses, by invitation, before the literary societies of Darmouth and Waterville colleges.

place him most decidedly with the Idealist, Intuitive, or Transcendental School,1 of which in popular estimation he stood for the representative and type.

The connection of Dr. Hedge with the Transcendental movement was close and important. His education in Germany, where he had passed some years in the earlier part of his life, had given him, besides a familiarity with the language of that country, an interest in its literature, and developed the taste which has led to his wide and intimate acquaintance with the German philosophy and sympathy with its spirit and ideas. This tendency showed itself while he was a student in the theological school at Cambridge, and then and afterward inspired many of his friends with something of his own interest and enthusiasm. In an article on Coleridge,2 he took occasion to give some account of the leading metaphysicians of Germany - Kant, Fichte, Schelling - and of their systems of philosophy; and thus placed be¬ fore the public a distinct exposition and defence of the Transcendental phi¬ losophy, which may be regarded as an important point in the history of that phase of thought in this vicinity. Speaking of the Transcendental philoso¬ phy, he characterizes it as " an attempt to penetrate into the most hidden mysteries of our being." To the opponents of this philosophy this attempt seemed both futile and a fruitful source of obscurities and absurdities. In illustration of this view they liked to instance the seemingly unintelligible, or what they chose to consider ridiculous, utterances of those who had a taste for the speculations of that school, or were ranked among its adherents.

In 1851 Dr. Hedge delivered the Dudleian lecture at Harvard College. His subject was "Natural Religion." 3 In this he takes the ground that all religious truth is properly revealed ; that this belongs to a higher power than the unassisted human understanding ; and that it has received its original light from revelation. The most striking part of this discourse, and what particularly characterizes it, is his criticism of the common argument for the existence of God from instances of design in the universe. He maintains that design is no adequate proof, and indeed is worthless as a proof by which to establish this truth, since in all such reasoning or proof we carry with us an idea of God already existing in our own minds and in no way dependent on the instances of design. He says: -

" The argument from design has its origin in a law of the mind which demands intelligence as the co-ordinate of being. Whatever conviction it produces is due to that law. Besides, though we grant the argument from design the uttermost that can be claimed for it, what does it give us after all, but the wonderful mechanician, the unfathomable artist? What religion wants and declares is a Father in Heaven, a moral Governor, Ruler, and Judge of the rational world. Of this God the natural land; and the chapter on "Transcendentalism" found in an article in the Christian Examiner , in Dr. Bartol's Radical Problems. - Ed.] vol. xvii. 1852, entitled "Natural Religion."

Earlier than this, Dr. Hedge had taken some part in the discussion of phrenology, which excited a lively but rather short-lived interest in this community on the occasion of a visit of Dr. Spurzhcim, one of its founders and chief advocates. This system excited a good deal of interest, and had a certain popularity, as it seemed to offer a cheap and easy philosophy of the mental and moral faculties (a subject of so much interest), and to put the matter almost literally, so to speak, into the hands of all. Its claims and pretensions were attacked by Dr. Hedge 1 in a tone more sarcastic and less respectful than was his wont in dealing with what was opposed to his views, as its pretensions seemed to him unfounded, and its methods as well as doctrines unphilosophical. He points out the materialistic character of the system, as well as its insufficiency as an account of the mental and moral phenomena of our constitution.

Already, in November, 1833, there had appeared in the Examiner Dr. Hedge's paper on Swedenborg, which is on the whole a favorable view of him and of his place in the philosophy of religion ; and it treats his claims with respect and impartiality. A strong interest in the religious doctrines and writings of the Swedish theosopher characterized many other thought¬ ful persons, and those who consciously or unconsciously were in sympathy with the spiritual philosophy. In Mr. Emerson's Representative Men we find Swedenborg taken as the type -.of the Mystic, and a very high place assigned to him among the seers, teachers, and prophets of the world. The writings of Sampson Reed, too, an able and devoted follower of Swed¬ enborg, were inspired and pervaded by his teachings. The writings of Swedenborg were also read and admired by many serious and thoughtful persons who did not accept him in the same sense with Mr. Reed, as an inspired teacher, but who found the truths of divine and human knowledge illustrated by the remarkable insight and profound thought of the Swedish seer. Thus his teachings have had a much wider influence, and have been much more deeply felt, than is represented by the number of the professed receivers of his doctrine.2

Mr. Henry James, too, has devoted much time and subtile thought, in various writings, to illustrate and explain in numerous relations the truths found in the works of Swedenborg, for whose mind and teachings he has shown profound reverence and admiration.

The part and position of George Ripley in the Transcendental movement was an important and prominent one in various ways. His early life was passed at Greenfield, Mass., where he was brought up in the faith and in¬ fluence of the Orthodox Congregational Church. After the years spent at the University and the Divinity School at Cambridge, he was settled in

1828 as a clergyman over a Unitarian society in Boston, where he continued as minister for several years. He had an ardent love of knowledge and re¬ markable power of rapid acquisition ; and as his taste led him in the direc¬ tion of theological and metaphysical studies, he became an acute and accomplished scholar in these departments. His ardent spirit was ever ac- tive, and his industry untiring. While connected with the religious societylie undertook an important literary enterprise, - the publication of a work called Specimens of Foreign Standard Literature , which was continued for some time, and embraced several valuable works. In this series the Philo¬ sophical Miscellanies of Cousin, Constant, and Jouffroy were translated by

1 [This cut follows a photograph of a crayon in Frothingham's Transcendentalism in New kindly furnished by Mr. Ripley's widow. See a England. - Ed.] chapter on " George Ripley, the Man of Letters,"

Mr. Ripley himself; some of the other volumes, by Mr. John S. Dwight, Miss Margaret Fuller, Mr. W. H. Channing, and Dr. S. Osgood. The first volumes appeared in 1838, the last in 1842. Most of these works were im¬ bued with the new and fresh thought of the time, and in their general tendency were opposed to the philosophy of experience, as represented by the Locke school. The wide researches of Mr. Ripley led him to acquaint¬ ance with the German philosophy and theology which then occupied so important a place in the intellectual world, and he became warmly interested in many of the writers of Germany, - in Kant and Herder, and more partic¬ ularly in Schleiermacher, whom he much admired, and whose statement of religion he found very satisfactory.

Mr. Ripley was always a busy writer, and while minister of the society in Boston he contributed a number of articles to the Christian Examiner , which for a long time was a leading journal of the Unitarian denomination, and embraced in its pages a wide range of discussion on philosophy, morals, and religion. A paper by him on Sir James Mackintosh's work on the moral sentiment goes into a lucid and able discussion of the relation of virtue to utility, and advocates the Intuitive in opposition to the Utilitarian theory of morals and of the ground and origin of moral obligation. This placed him, on the question of morals, as his other writings do on those of religion and philosophy, decidedly in the ranks of the Spiritual or Tran¬ scendental school.

An important occasion in Mr. Ripley's literary life, and one which added a good deal to his reputation in the theological world, was his controversy with Professor Andrews Norton, of the Cambridge Theological School.1

1 Mr. Norton, in an address before the alumni of the Theological School on what he called the " Latest Form of Infidelity," took occasion to at¬ tack what seemed to him the novel and dangerous views of the evidences of Christianity, which, while they either denied or undervalued the proof from miracles, laid the chief stress on the general character of the teachings of Christ and their adaptation to the moral wants and natural religious instincts of mankind. Professor Nor¬ ton regarded this rejection or undervaluing of the historical miracles as dangerous to the founda¬ tion of Christianity. He, indeed, deemed the denial of the miracles as equivalent to a denial of the divine origin of Christianity, and as noth¬ ing more nor less than infidelity, to which he gave the title of " Latest Form," in contradis¬ tinction to the Deism of the last century of Collins, Toland, etc. As less open and declared it seemed to him only the more insidious and pernicious. Mr. Ripley girded himself to reply with a sort of joyous confidence, like the re¬ joicing of a strong man to run a race. From his knowledge and appreciation of the views at¬ tacked, and from his confidence in their truth and strength, as well as from his acquaintance with the recent theology and philosophy of Germany he was extremely well qualified for the occasion. The controversy turned mainly on the value and importance of miracles as ground and proof of the Christian religion.

Mr. Norton maintained their absolute indis¬ pensableness, and affirmed that a denial or dis¬ belief of them was equivalent to a rejection of any proper belief in religion as a divine revela¬ tion. "Christianity," he says, "claims to reveal facts, a knowledge of which is essential to the moral regeneration of men, and to offer in attes¬ tation of these facts the only satisfactory proof, - the authority of God evidenced by miraculous displays of his power." Referring to Mr. Rip¬ ley's views he adds : " The latest form of infi¬ delity is distinguished by assuming the Christian name while it strikes at the root of faith in Christianity, and indirectly at all religion, by de¬ nying the miracles attesting the divine mission of Christ." In the course of his discourse he attacked German theology and philosophy; and first Spinoza, who, though not a German, he says, " is regarded as a profound teacher and patriarch by some of the most noted among the infidel philosophers and theologians of Ger-

Its chief interest consists in our having in conflict before us representatives of the two different schools of philosophy, - Professor Norton representing that of experience and the senses, in the last resort, as the only source of our knowledge; Mr. Ripley, that which we have called the Intuitional, which regards the mind itself, with its intuitions and cognitions, as an inde¬ pendent source of. knowledge and belief, - which latter, claiming in the past the names of Plato, Descartes, Cudworth, Malebranche, and Berkeley, was destined to exert so wide an influence among us from the works of Col¬ eridge, Carlyle, Emerson, Hedge, Alcott, Marsh, and others. Though the controversy seems mainly theological and personal, the roots of the posi¬ tions of the antagonists strike down into the two divergent systems of phi¬ losophy, and the theological ground rests on the philosophical.1

We pass now to speak of Mr. Ripley's connection with the famous socialistic experiment conducted by the Brook Farm Phalanx. This enterprise was the object of much misapprehension, of a good deal of ridicule and even bitter hostility. It was natural enough that an insti¬ tution so novel in its arrangements and its claims, so opposed to conser¬ vative notions and feelings, should encounter prejudice, misapprehension, and ridicule ; neither is it strange that many mistakes, and ludicrous ones, should have been made. Embracing in its numbers such heterogeneous materials, and naturally attracting persons of fantastic notions, with vari¬ ous peculiarities and singularities of character, it was to be expected that some would have vagaries, and some affect singular ways. So the public very

Mr. Ripley in reply controverted Mr. Norton's position that miracles are the only proof of Christianity. After quoting his words, "that the divine authority of him whom God commis¬ sioned to speak to us in his name was attested in the only mode in which it could be, by mi¬ raculous displays of his power," and other state¬ ments to the same effect, he went on to examine this doctrine, and made many citations to show that Mr. Norton's doctrine, though not absolutely novel, was contrary to the opinion and state¬ ments of many of the most distinguished divines and theologians of Europe and America ; that it was contrary to the teachings of the Old and New Testaments; and he showed that other proofs, called internal evidence, have ever been admitted to have a force and power that are disparaged by Mr. Norton's claim for miracles as the essential and only satisfactory proof of divine origin. (It should be said, at the same time, that Mr. Nor¬ ton did not deny to this internal evidence a high comparative value and use.) To the charges made against some distinguished modern Ger¬ man theologians, and to the severe terms in which Professor Norton had spoken of them as

Pantheists and Infidels, Mr. Ripley replied with an elaborate statement of their belief and philo¬ sophy, which he substantiated by quotations from their works. He also criticised the translation of passages from them made by Mr. Norton, and charged such versions with incorrectness. To this Mr. Norton replied in a pamphlet criticising and controverting Mr. Ripley's arguments, while he reiterated his own former positions and asser¬ tions, and adduced citations in confirmation of them. To this Mr. Ripley replied in a second letter, in which he gives an account of the system and doctrines of Spinoza, to refute the common notion of his Atheism, Pantheism, etc., and de¬ fends some of his own former assertions and translations. This was followed by a third letter by Mr. Ripley, which is specially occupied with a defence of Schleiermacher and De Wette; and this concluded the controversy.

1 In this controversy we believe that it was the general opinion among those who took an interest in the subject, that Mr. Ripley acquitted himself with great credit, both as respects the learning and ability displayed, and the good temper and courtesy shown to his adversary, for whom, as appears from the discriminating notice in the early part of this chapter, he ever retained a high respect.

legitimately had its laugh. But perhaps it was hardly fair, though natu¬ ral enough, to fix on these oddities and absurdities as the salient and chief characteristics of the enterprise in which many sensible, thoughtful, worthy, and benevolent persons set themselves seriously to work to carry out an ex¬ periment which had attractions for themselves, and which they fondly and generously, if not wisely, hoped would lead to important benefit for man¬ kind. To overlook their humane and generous aims and objects, and what were in many respects their wise, skilful, and efficient arrangements, - to ignore, too, what was really accomplished, and to fix attention only on the mistakes and ludicrous aspects of the enterprise, - was not quite just, nor was it a true view of the matter. The mistakes were necessarily the more obvious features to those outside ; often made known, too, from the un¬ friendly gossip of some who became dissatisfied. The better accomplish¬ ments could not be so well known without interior acquaintance, or at least sympathy, with the movement. It is, of course, not possible to form any proper estimate of the influence of this experiment, or of what was really accomplished by it. It certainly taught some lessons about associated life, though it may not have demonstrated either its feasibility or the contrary; but that it had various and important influences in the spirit and direction of the ideas with which it was started, we think many who were there will testify. Some of these look back on it as a very profitable as well as de¬ lightful part of their lives, and no doubt owe to it - beside valuable practical experience - higher and more generous aims, a free and varied culture, wider sympathies, and more humane views of the relations of society.

The influence on the young, we may perhaps say, was especially valu¬ able ; affording them as it did a wide opportunity for out-of-door life, with its broadening and emancipating effects, combined with instruction from many different teachers of diversified character, and bringing them into daily intimacy with persons of. various culture and experience, and with principles of humanity and brotherhood as the basis of daily life. And may we not believe that with all the shortcomings and unfaithfulness to its ideal, with the collisions and heartburnings almost inseparable from asso¬ ciations of human beings in any enterprise, a large spirit of humanity was developed and prevailed, and that this brief and imperfect experiment had an important influence in enlarging, emphasizing, defining, and deepening the spirit of true democracy?

It would seem that Mr. Ripley was not satisfied with the efficacy of the church modes of administering Christianity, in promoting its objects and combating the evils of the present social arrangements, and was led to hope for more effective benefit to the cause of humanity and for the protection of human brotherhood, from some organization of labor on the principle of co-operation instead of competition, and with agricultural labor as the basis. Questions relating to this matter were discussed between him and some of the leading philanthropists of the day ; and these, Dr. Channing among them, took an interest in his ideas, though probably none of them had the same sanguine hopes. Thus the plan of doing something toward a reform of social organization, by some form of association, gradually took shape in his mind. Ihe subject of Life in Community, or Association, as a remedy for the evils of the present form of social life, seems to have been in the air at the time. The Mendon Association of Adin Ballou and his associates, and perhaps other similar experiments, were in agitation or actually begun. But whatever aid and incitement Mr. Ripley may have owed to the sympathy and thought of others, we may assert that this enterprise derived its origin from his philanthropic idealism, and that to him belongs the credit of hav¬ ing given form to the scheme as actually carried out, and of having devised and fixed upon the ways and means of its inception and realization.1

This movement, in the mind of Mr. Ripley and others, was one form of the strong and rising feeling of humanity and of the brotherhood of man, then so widely pervading the community. With it, too, came the desire and hope for better conditions of life, in which the less fortunate classes might come to share in the privileges, comforts, and various advantages belonging to civilized society.

The feeling which at this time manifested itself in an excited form in the Antislavery agitation may indirectly have had some effect in suggesting or stimulating this movement. Mr. Ripley, and others with him, while sym¬ pathizing with the object of the Abolitionists, thought that as the evils of which slavery is so signal and conspicuous a form lay deep in the present constitution and arrangement of society, so their remedy could only be found in a modification or radical change of ordinary life. The feeling, then, which lay at the bottom of the Brook Farm enterprise, and from which it mainly sprang, we may say, from acquaintance with many of its chief actors and friends, was dissatisfaction with the existing conditions of society, - that, under these, some classes enjoy the advantages of high culture and the gratification of the intellect and taste, and if obliged to work in some way for subsistence they yet have leisure and opportunity for refined recreation and for the enjoyment of comfortable or elegant modes of living, and are in some respects subject to more favorable moral influences; while under these, also, other classes are doomed to wearisome or painful drudgery and incessant toil, without opportunity for the enjoyments of intellect and taste, confined to dreary and squalid conditions of existence, and more exposed to temptations at least to the more flagrant crimes. Then, again, there was the feeling that there is something wrong in the mode of industry as now constituted, - - namely, competitive industry ; a point so much insisted on by Fourier and other advocates of association, in which one man's gain is

1 The question here naturally occurs, how pies and expounders in this country, but not with much Mr. Ripley owed to the theories and writ- the works of Fourier himself till sometime later, ing of Charles Fourier, who had writtenso largely and after being settled at Brook Farm. At any on the subject of associated life and industry, rate he did not at first adopt in their full extent So far as we learn, it would seem he was ac- the ideas or system of Fourier, his own notions quainted with Fourier's theories through the writ- on the subject being far less systematic and docings of Albert Brisbane, one of his zealous disci- irinaire, so to speak.

another man's loss, and the necessities of which make it the interest of each to get away from others, and to appropriate to himself as large a share as possible of this world's goods, - a condition of things seemingly so con¬ trary to the spirit of Christian brotherhood. Consequently a mode of life was desired, and even anticipated with more or less confidence by different persons, according to character or mental bias, in which this evil condition of the relations of society might be corrected.

The views and feelings we have thus attempted to indicate, and which so readily suggest themselves to the thoughtful and humane, seem to have lain at the bottom of the movement, and most of those attracted to it shared more or less in them ; but, besides these, there were various other consid¬ erations inciting to an interest in the enterprise and a wish to take part in it. The idea of a pleasant social life, with congenial society, somewhat free from burdensome conventions, moved some. Then there was the idea of a life of mingled physical and intellectual labor, as more proper and health¬ ful, combined with the notion that exclusive occupation in one or the other is unfavorable to mental and bodily health, and that the alternation of the two, as it is the duty and benefit of all, is also the right and privilege of all. Other considerations were those of the economies of a united house¬ hold of several families, - economies of fuel and labor, and of the appa¬ ratus for cooking, washing, agricultural uses, etc. Among those drawn to it there were some, who, willing to work, were yet indisposed to the struggle for existence in civilized society, or who in the struggle had been unsuc¬ cessful. Young women, too, who had found no sphere suited to their taste, culture, or capabilities, hailed the opportunity of a home and a support, in return for work they were willing and glad to give, in conditions of society agreeable to their tastes and character. Some were mainly attracted by the agricultural feature, to whom the cultivation of the soil, as the most primitive and natural, seemed also the most innocent and agreeable, form of industry, and Mr. Ripley himself took much interest in this aspect.

These various considerations and feelings were mingled in different pro¬ portions in the different individuals, and had their influence ; and they were perhaps more or less shared as motives by all who came with thought and reflection to the enterprise. If it may seem that most of the thoughts and feelings adopted and proclaimed with so much enthusiasm and empha¬ sis are quite commonplace, indeed mere platitudes, it should be considered that since then the mind of society has made progress in democratic ideas ; and may we not believe that this, too, is due in some degree to the zeal with which they were adopted and proclaimed at that time? It should be considered, too, that this was an attempt to give substantial form and em¬ bodiment to these thoughts and feelings. Mr. Ripley, who was of a sanguine temperament, with remarkable power of quick perception and rapid appre¬ hension, when this matter of associative industry as a remedy for the ills of society was brought to his mind, was seized with the idea of some form of community, some mode of life in association and of co-operative industry, which might secure better conditions for humanity. Finding a number of persons disposed to sympathize, either practically or theoretically, with his views and hopes, he went forward with an ardor very inspiring to those who came in contact with him. He threw himself with enthusiastic and disinter¬ ested zeal into his plans and schemes, worked long and generously, amid many discouragements, with unselfish and never-failing devotion for their accomplishment and success. While under these influences the opportunity of securing a farm which seemed to offer various advantages for trying his experiment induced him to take it. This property was situated in West Roxbury, now a part of Boston, and touched on the towns of Dedham and Newton. It consisted of about two hundred acres, part of it rocky and not very fertile land ; part an extensive meadow, reaching to and border¬ ing on Charles River, which was mainly its Dedham boundary. There was on the farm a pleasant old family mansion, on rising ground or sort of knoll, along which, and winding through the meadow till it reached the river, was a lively brook, whence the farm had its name, and which to the younger people was a source of amusement and pleasure, as they wandered along its banks or trapped the wild game of its neighborhood. The near¬ ness of the farm to the city was an advantage in several ways, as for instance affording a market for its products. It was, too, an attraction to some not yet entirely emancipated from the benefits and charms of that civilization which, theoretically, seemed so full of evils ; for it should be considered that of those who were early members of the family there were quite a number who had enjoyed many of the advantages and luxuries of civilization and high culture. There was the hope, however, that in time it would not be necessary to go so far to seek those delights of music, art, etc., which on the true theory of life in association were to find place and cultivation among themselves.

A small company, - the pioneers in the work, - first planted them¬ selves on the ground early in April, 1841. Among those who thus began the work were Mr. and Mrs. Ripley, and Miss Marianne Ripley, his sister, who had had a school for young children in Boston, some of whom she brought with her. She made a separate family with them in a small house near the farm; and, in the rather fanciful nomenclature adopted, this was called the Nest, as the principal house was named the Hive.1

Mrs. Ripley, who was of an energetic and enthusiastic temperament, entered very heartily into the views and plans of her husband, and was always a prominent person in the conduct of affairs. She threw herself with zeal and efficiency into the various departments in which she could

1 Mr. Warren Burton, who had been a cler- Allen, a young farmer from Vermont, had in gvnian, and an author of some small books, some way become interested in the idea. This was accompanied them. He however did not remain one of the pet phrases. He afterward married, long. Hawthorne also came at the beginning, and brought his wife, and continued some time or very early. There were a few who had had at the farm. Mr. Frank Farley, who is still livsome experience in farming, and whose knowl- ing, had had also some experience in farming edge and skill were highly esteemed in the gen- at the West. Several young women were also eral lack of this accomplishment. Mr. William there, of marked character and intelligence.

take part; especially that of teaching, for which she was so well qualified by her knowledge and previous experience.1 Besides the principal persons and workers, there were a number of young persons who were here mainly for education, but who sometimes took part in the farm and other work, not always in the most efficient way. There were in the community first and last a large number of such young persons, as many of the principal mem¬ bers were well qualified to give instruction by previous experience, or by their knowledge in different departments. There were also, much of the time, a number of boarders, attracted by the agreeable society, by the pleasant situation, or by sympathy with the idea and mode of life. This appendage of the school and boarders, though not strictly in accordance with the idea of the community life, was taken advantage of to furnish the necessary means for the first starting of the experiment and carrying it on in its early stages, toward which the proceeds of the farm would not have gone far.

And we may here say something of the ways and means of meeting the expenses, and providing for the wants of the company. The food was fur¬ nished either from the products of the farm, or was purchased. The neces¬ sary funds came from the sale of the farm products, or from other sources indicated above. The clothing of those properly to be reckoned members was also provided for in a similar way, and set off against services of one kind or another. This for the most part could be afforded at a somewhat reduced rate, the material being purchased in quantity, and made up among themselves by those who brought the requisite skill and practice with them, - for in this microcosm a considerable variety of occupations and in¬ dustries was represented. The school was an important source of income ; and this was continued till the end, or nearly so, of the existence of the association. Some of the pupils took part in the work, and thus defrayed a portion of the expense of board, etc. There were always a large number of young persons, scholars, boarders, etc., and this led to a considerable mingling of amusement of various kinds. Moreover, some of the company had a special skill in arranging and directing this element. We may in this connection remark that a prominent feature of the life was the opportunity given for the exercise of divers gifts and faculties ; and the way in which

1 She has recently been very favorably and justly noticed in some articles on Brook Farm in the Atlantic Monthly, by Miss Amelia Russell, since deceased, who was herself a long time a member of the association, and was a zealous, active, and valuable co-worker. There were also some young women who were there partly for education, or drawn there by some other con¬ sideration. Later than this, but in the course of the first summer, came Charles A. Dana, now editor of the New York Sun. With the ardor of youth, and bringing fresh from Harvard, where he had been a student, the latest improvements in scholarly lore, he embraced the ideas and modes of operation of the enterprise with zeal and systematic energy, and long filled an impor¬ tant place as teacher, worker, counsellor, and director. In the course of the first summer, too, came Minot Pratt, with his family. He had been a printer, but was attracted by sympathy and interest in the mode of life, as well as by a taste for agriculture, which he retained until his death, a few years since. He was a man of - singular purity and uprightness of character, simplicity of taste, and great intelligence. He was in many ways a valuable member, and for a long time had the chief direction of the farm¬ ing operations.

they may be easily and naturally brought into play is one of the claims of the theory of association. There were amusements suited to the different seasons, - tableaux, charades, dances ; in the winter, skating and coasting, for which the knolls, wide meadows, and river afforded favorable opportu¬ nities ; in summer, rural fetes, masquerades, etc., in the charming localities, rocks, and woods around the place.

A great charm of the life was the free and natural intercourse for which it gave opportunity, and the working of the elective affinities, which here had more full play ; so that while a kindly feeling was the general spirit of the family, little groups of friends, drawn together in closer relations by taste and sympathy, soon declared themselves. By most who were there the life was felt to be very charming. The relief from the fetters and burdensome conventions of society, from the was a constant delight to those who had suffered from them in the artificial arrangements and forms of society. At the same time the relief and pleas¬ ures of solitude were not wanting, as the taste that might lead any to with¬ draw to the solitude of the woods or of their own rooms was respected. There was for a long time a large infusion of romantic feeling and enthusiasm, es¬ pecially among the younger and more inexperienced, who knew nothing of the embarrassment of providing ways and means. Nor was this enthusiasm confined to these. There was something of the " tete montee " pervading to a great extent the company, and of the feeling expressed in the verse of Virgil, -

And if in some instances there was a slight falsetto tone, at the same time there was a great deal of genuine faith in the idea; and a conviction ob¬ tained that such a life was in many respects a truer and better as well as a happier one than that of the unfortunates who, according to the current phraseology, were still in civilization, - which was a word of somewhat sin¬ ister import in the Brook Farm community. Among the less wise and thoughtful there was indeed carried to a silly exaggeration a pity for the civilisees. Notwithstanding all this, justice should be done to the feeling of the more wise and thoughtful in entering upon and going through the enter¬ prise. This, we think, those well acquainted with them would bear witness was for the most part simple ; and, though colored with an enthusiasm which seemed exaggerated to many, was without that special consciousness and pretension with which they were charged.

The agricultural feature was always a very important one, and of great interest to many of the company, to whom its various aspects and phases were a novelty. Hawthorne, who was there during most of the first summer, and also part of the following winter, was an efficient and stalwart worker in this department, and found amusement in his apprenticeship to some parts of the farm work, - as milking, etc., and especially, for a long time, in the pleasant operations of hay-making, which was an important part in conse¬ quence of the extensive meadows. He was attracted thither, as we under¬ stood, by the hope of an opportunity of leading a life more in conformity with his tastes and feelings than was possible in the common arrangements of society, and also of uniting successfully manual with intellectual work. But we think he was disappointed in this, and found it not easy to combine writing with severe bodily toil; and as the former was so manifestly his vo¬ cation, he gave up the farm work in the course of the first summer, and though he remained there for some time longer, it was as a boarder, not a worker. The younger people had, as usual, their admirations and worships; and Hawthorne was eminently fitted to be one of these, partly by the pres¬ tige of his reputation, but more in consequence of a real appreciation of his genius as a writer, as well as from the impression made by his remarkable and fine personal appearance and by his whole bearing. He was shy in his ways ; and though he mingled with the rest of the company in the even¬ ing gatherings in the hall or parlor of the Hive, he was silent and apparently self-absorbed, but no doubt carefully observing as was his wont, and finding material for his writing.1 There was something about him, however, that attracted, notwithstanding this reserve.

In process of time new arrangements were found necessary to accom¬ modate the increasing numbers. The original mansion-house, the Hive, was enlarged by successive additions; and then, with the further increase of numbers, the Eyrie, and afterward the Cottage and the Pilgrim House, were added. Later, some workshops for the exercise of several new branches of industry were erected, - among these, shoemaking, though never on a large scale; the manufacture of Britannia ware, lamps, teapots, etc.; carpenters' rules; carpentry; sash and blind making. The most profitable work, we are informed, was that of the farm, and branches connected with it, - like the nursery, and the business of the trees and greenhouse.

As to compensation, the principle was to apportion it in general to the number of hours, and also to the difficulty and disagreeableness of the kind of work. This was received in the form of board, clothing, and divi¬ dends on labor. Compensation was also allowed for extra work.

At the beginning the arrangements were quite simple, and the organiza¬ tion slight; but the tendency was constantly to a more scientific form, according to the principles of Fourier, especially after the scheme had attracted some of his professed disciples and students. It was the aim and hope to have it eventually organized and conducted wholly on that system ; though (perhaps from want of sufficient numbers) this was never thoroughly

1 In his Blithedale Romance , which was the occur here, but elsewhere. Some of the Brook fruit of his experience here, in order to deepen Farmers were sorry to have anything so ghastly the shadows of his picture he avails himself of connected with what for them had, for the most a most painful and tragic incident, which did not part, pleasant and beautiful associations.

carried out.1 The last building, the Phalanstery, was arranged in some measure in conformity with these principles. It was on a large scale, and had many suites of apartments for different families, but was destroyed by fire before completion. The institution thus suffered a loss from which it never recovered, and finally came to an end in the fall of 1847, about

1 There had been at earlier stages some state¬ ments of the plan, but the final formulating of their intents appears in a constitution dated May 1, 1845, in the introduction to which are these words, which show a more sanguine con¬ fidence, after about four years' actual experience, and more hope of realizing their expectations, than is commonly supposed to have existed: " We have laid the foundation, and now stand ready to rear the superstructure, which will ap¬ proach more nearly the ideal of human society than any that has ever existed, - a society which will establish justice between all interests and all men; which will guarantee education, right to labor, and the rights of property to all ; and which, by actual demonstration of a state of things every way better and more advantageous, will put an end to the great evils which at pres¬ ent burden even the most fortunate classes. What we have already been able to accomplish ought to give weight to our words. We speak not from abstract conviction, but from experi¬ ence; as men of practical common-sense, hold¬ ing in our hands the means of escape from the present conditions of society, and from that more frightful state to which in all countries it is hurrying."

The preamble reads thus : " In order more effectually to promote the great purposes of human culture, ... to substitute a system of brotherly love for one of selfish competition, . . . to guarantee to each other forever the means of physical support and spiritual prog¬ ress, etc., we unite, etc."

Its principles may be thus summarized : " The Government. - It shall be vested in a Gen¬ eral Council which shall consist of four branches, viz.: first, a Council of Industry; second, a Council of Finance ; third, a Council of Science; fourth, a President, who together with a chair¬ man of each of the foregoing councils shall constitute a General Council. Organization of Labor. - The labor of the Phalanx shall be ar¬ ranged in Groups and Series, as far as practica¬ ble, according to the system of Charles Fourier. Groups. - A group is a little company of from three to twenty persons, engaged in some special division of labor or study. In this sphere it gov¬ erns and is responsible; it makes its rules, and decides upon the management of its own opera¬ tions. In it the highest talent of its members for its particular duty is called out. Series. - The different groups, engaged in divisions of the same employment, are united into a higher combination called a Series, which, through its proper officers, governs and is responsible in that department. These again are concentrated in the Councils of Industry and Science, which have a like power and responsibility.* Division of Profits. - The striking features of this, and which are especially in contrast with the usual arrangements of civilized society, are, first, that the net profits after all general expenses are paid are to be divided, one third to Capital and two thirds to Labor; second, that the two thirds allotted to Labor shall be distributed so that the labor of the Class of Necessity shall receive the highest dividend, labor of the class of Use¬ fulness a medium dividend, and labor of the Class of Attractiveness the lowest dividend, - i. e., that the necessary and important, which at the same time may be the most disagreeable and repulsive, shall receive the highest dividend. The General Council. - This shall classify all labor, according to its necessity, its usefulness, or its attractiveness, and with reference to the promotion of Social Harmony; and this classifi¬ cation may be varied from time to time, so as to prevent an excess of laborers in any branch of industry, and secure the performance of the labor required."

A distinction should not be overlooked be¬ tween the earlier and later periods of this experi¬ ment. The first was one of much generous enthusiasm, with somewhat vague feelings of humanity, and of hope for better and more humane conditions of life; and this was com¬ bined with the undefined and unsystematic way in which it was attempted to carry out the ideas that prompted the movement. The later was a more mature period, when the more scientific and systematic forms of organization were gradu¬ ally approximated and introduced. The first phase was more agreeable to some of the zeal¬ ous first-comers.

* We would remark, for the information of those un¬ acquainted with the subject, that the groups and series, etc., are important and characteristic features of the system and nomenclature of Fourier. [Octavius E. Frothingham's Transcendentalism in New England , Boston, 1876, gives at full length, p. 159, the constitution of the Brook Farm comrpunity. The literature of the subject is somewhat scattered. See the paper on their tl Home-Life " in the Atlantic Monthly , 187S ; also the number for May, 1866, p. 565. Other estimates and glimpses can be found in Greeley's Recollections of a Busy Life ; the various sketches of Hawthorne, including M. D. Conway's intro¬ duction to the English edition of Hawthorne's Note-books , and in general the reviews of The Bhthedale Romance ; Dixon's New America ; Noyes's American Socialisms. - Ed.]

six years after it began. Pecuniary difficulties in conducting it, we pre¬ sume, may be stated as the main cause of its failure and of the necessity for its abandonment.

Most of the time there were no religious observances by the association as such,1 as many of the inmates attended Theodore Parker's church, or others in the neighborhood, while some went to Boston. At one time, however, there were religious services conducted by William H. Channing, or other clergymen who may have been present. Also for a considerable period meetings were held in Boston on Sunday; and these, too, were gen¬ erally conducted by Mr. Channing, and often had reference to the doc¬ trines of association, in which he was much interested.

An important point to be noted in the history of this movement was the publication of a journal called the Harbinger , to advocate the principles of association. The first number is dated June 14, 1845. It was contin¬ ued for several years, and was first printed at Brook Farm, afterward at New York. In the manifesto of the first number we find its object thus stated : " It is proposed to publish a weekly newspaper for the examina¬ tion and discussion of the great questions in social science, politics, and the arts which command the attention of all believers in the progress and elevation of humanity, . . . and to be devoted to the cause of a radical, organic social reform, as essential to the highest development of man's nature. . . . The principles of universal unity, as taught by Charles Fourier, in their application to society, we believe are at the foundation of all gen¬ uine social progress ; and it will be our aim to discuss and defend these principles. . . . The social reform, of which the signs are everywhere visi¬ ble, comprehends all others." This journal, which was conducted with zeal and ability, is important as showing the faith, earnestness, and seriousness of purpose, as well as hopeful confidence, which the advocates of associa¬ tion had in the truth and ultimate success of their principles. Besides the special subject of association, the Harbinger embraced a variety of other topics, particularly in relation to matters of art. The musical articles occupy much space, and were mainly written by John S. Dwight; and these wrere in the sense and spirit of his other writings on the subject, characterized by warm and discriminating zeal in advocating and expounding the highest forms of musical art, and instructing and elevating the public taste. Mr. Dwight was himself, with other members of his family, a long time at Brook Farm, and had direction of the musical department.2

From this episode of associated endeavor we turn to trace the influence of the new philosophical thought and tendency in other fields. It was meetings of the company, and to be used for reli- Higginson, G. Ripley, J. R. Lowell, F. G. Shaw, gious services by those who might so wish. William W. Story, and J. G. Whittier. The trans-

2 In the list of writers given in the first lations of George Sand's Consuelo and Countess number we find the names of Albert Brisbane, of Rudolstadt, by F. G. Shaw, were printed first W. H. Channing, C. P. Cranch, G. W. Curtis, C. in this journal.

naturally felt in an especial manner in the Divinity School at Cambridge, although among its professors Mr. Norton was decidedly opposed, and oth¬ ers were by no means favorable, to it ; but the students, as belonging to a younger generation, and moreover by their studies particularly occupied with questions of philosophy, were more open to its influence. Various circumstances, which brought the philosophy and literature of Germany to their acquaintance, served further to awaken interest. The coming of Dr. Follen as teacher of German, about 18.26-27, had already given an impulse to the study of that language, and Dr. Hedge, then a student of the school, helped to spread it among his personal friends. The writings of Carlyle, in so far as they illustrated German literature and its distinguished representa¬ tives, also contributed much to stimulate taste and diffuse knowledge in this direction. Dr. Hedge's book of translations, Prose Writers of Germany, was another indication of this tendency. It is proper to connect the interest in the language, literature, and philosophy of Germany with the Transcendental tendency, as they were associated together in the popular mind, and looked upon alike with a vague dislike, suspicion, or dread, as closely connected with infidelity, or at best with mysticism, obscurity, absurdity, and nonsense, and tending to pernicious radicalism ; so that the word German came to carry with it all sorts of ridiculous and extravagant associations,1 - and to this some color was lent by the specimens from which the popular, but very slight and imperfect, notion had been derived. Such were the trans¬ lations of Schiller's Robbers, a work belonging to a very crude period of his life, and Goethe's Sorrows of Werther, which in itself, in some respects rather remote from the New England style of thought and sentiment, had the fur¬ ther disadvantage of being known from a poor and sickly French version, probably still further disfigured by its translation into English.

The books most in vogue at any period, and especially those which are favorites with the active and influential minds whose mission is to give character and direction to the prevalent thought, may be taken as indications of the tendencies of the time ; and so we may fitly notice here some of those which were so regarded at that time.

Besides the taste for German literature and philosophy, the writings of Coleridge excited much interest and awakened a taste for profound and ab¬ stract thought on literary and philosophical subjects. First, his Biographia Literaria, and then, more exclusively philosophical, his Aids to Reflection, with the valuable introductory essay by President J. Marsh.2 This is more particularly addressed to those interested in questions of theology; but as it is written from the ground of the Transcendental philosophy, and pervaded by its spirit, it was not a small element in the influence in that direction. In this work the very important distinction of the Understanding and the Reason is much emphasized and insisted on ; and this is of the very essence of that

The works of Cousin also were favorite books, - the Introduction to Phi¬ losophy, translated by Professor C. Henry, and the Comparative View of the Different Philosophical Systems. His able and lucid criticism of Locke and his system, and of the philosophy of sensation and experience, was read and valued as pointing out the defects and tendencies of that system.

Besides the writings of Carlyle relating to German literature, other works of his awakened still greater interest, and had a still more inspiring influ¬ ence; among these, several articles in the Edinburgh Review } and the Sartor Rcsartus? It is hardly possible for those not contemporary with the first appearance in this country of Carlyle's earlier works to understand or appreciate the extent and vividness of this excitement. It was an era in the thought, experience, and culture of many, provoking in the same person the most opposite feelings, - delight, admiration, sympathy, at the same time dissent, questioning, and opposition ; and stimulating thought by the opposition thus aroused. There was also the charm of his style, then a nov¬ elty, so rich and strong, so picturesque and poetical, and at times marked by touching strains of tender humanity. We connect the taste for the writings of Carlyle with the history of thought in Boston, since they nowhere else found so early and cordial recognition;1 2 3 and this, we may presume, be¬ cause their tone was so much in harmony, in some respects, with the growing tendency among us. At the same time, like those of Mr. Emer¬ son, his writings aroused dislike and ridicule, so that with some of his younger admirers the reading of them was a sort of stolen pleasure. It was one of the jests of the day, ridiculing the tastes and enthusiasm of the young people, that in a group of school-girls the talk would be not of balls and beaux, but of Emerson and Carlyle.

Among the interesting features of this period was the Transcendental Club, of which Dr. Hedge, Mr. Emerson, Mr. Alcott, Mr. George Ripley, Theodore Parker, and some others were the founders. It was instituted with the object of bringing together those who agreed in general tendency of philosophical thought, or rather with the broader object of free and untram¬ melled discussion of questions of high moment then abroad in the com¬ munity. The meetings of this club, the character and arrangements of which were quite informal, usually took place at the time of the religious anniversaries, or of the Harvard Commencement. They were held at

2 [This first appeared serially in Fraser's Mag¬ azine, and was published for the first time in a collected form in Boston, in 1836, at the instance of Dr. Le Baron Russell, and Rev. Wm. Silsbee, with an introduction by R. W. Emerson. - Er>.]

" Having with good reason, ever since my first appear¬ ance in literature, a variety of kind feelings, obligations, and regards toward New England, and indeed long before that a hearty good will, real and steady, which still con¬ tinues, to America at large, and recognizing with gratitude how much of friendliness, of actually credible human love, I have had from that country," etc. - Ed.J various residences of persons interested, - as of Mr. Parker in West Roxbury, Caleb Stetson in Medford, Mr. Emerson at Concord, Dr. Francis at Watertown, or at Mr. Ripley's, Mr. Alcott's, and Dr. Bartol's, in Boston.1 The talk took a wide range, and was at times of a very inspiring character, relating to topics of religion, philosophy, morals, etc.2

There were few who occupied a more prominent position, or one of wider influence in the period of which we write, than Theodore Parker. His in¬ dependence of mind, his devotion to the cause of freedom and humanity in every aspect, and unshrinking courage in advocating and upholding their claims, and his interest in all knowledge and thought, with his warm, genial, and tender affection, made him a very noteworthy and efficient influence in these causes. His strong feeling against what he deemed errors of doc¬ trine, and his own ardent and uncompromising spirit, led him into the ranks of controversy; and his language toward those whom he considered as faith¬ less or hostile to freedom of thought, or to the relief of humanity from its wrongs and burdens, was harsh and unsparing: but this did no justice to his really kind, tender, and loving nature. His biography has been amply given in various forms ; to this paper it belongs to say something of his influence on the thought of his period. This was chiefly in the direction of theology and of moral and social reform. He made it his mission to ex¬ pose and attack the iniquities and falsehood that, in his view, are embodied in the present constitution of society; to assail the evils that oppress hu¬ manity and impede its progress, and more especially to expose and combat the errors that are mingled in the religious notions and institutions of the day, especially those which to him seemed to darken and disfigure our con¬ ceptions of the Divine Nature, and, though clothed in the garb of reverence and worship, to deface the pure, free, and beneficent character of Christi-

1 Besides those already mentioned, Miss Margaret Fuller, Miss Elizabeth Peabody, Mrs. Ripley of Waltham, the Rev. James Freeman Clarke, John S. Dwight, and others were some¬ times present.

2 One of these meetings, held in Boston, was rendered memorable by one of the remarkable and impressive outbursts of Father Taylor's elo¬ quence. The subject of discussion was, we think, something relating to the influence of preaching and of the administration of religion, and how they might be rendered more effective. Father Taylor, who was present by invitation, was re¬ quested to give his views and experience. He had been sitting silent while the others talked, knitting his brows, with his green spectacles thrown up on his forehead, leaning forward or shifting about on his chair, in the attitudes so familiar to those who remember him. When he began to speak he soon rose to his feet, and warming as he went on, in a sort of indignant or sorrowful eloquence, by-and-by took his hearers off their feet, and they were carried away as by a flood. He rebuked the shortcomings of the various religious sects, not sparing his own, the Methodists ; characterizing the faults or peculiarites of each with sarcastic wit, and a sort of grim but fervent satire. The points he made were commonplace enough perhaps, - namely, that all that is needed to move men is simple earnest¬ ness and living faith, and that this will conquer coldness and indifference in the hearers ; so that what he said was not so remarkable as the per¬ vading, fervent power of his utterance. When he got through, the company were so deeply im¬ pressed that they were for the most part disposed to entire silence, and though some desultory at¬ tempts were made to renew and continue the discussion, all other speech seemed so cold and hard after the glowing words they had heard, and so out of harmony with their mood, that the company soon broke up. [See Incidents and Anecdotes of the Rev. Edward T. Taylor, by G. Haven and T. Russell. Boston, 1S72. - Ed.]

anity and its founder. Settled at first over a small parish in West Roxbury, he drew a number of hearers from abroad, many coming out from Boston to listen to his earnest and eloquent speech. What attracted these hearers was not, we think, any very remarkable original intellectual power, but a strong common-sense, entire freedom in exploring and judging of questions of religipn, perfect fearlessness in uttering his thoughts, and above all an earnest spirit of humanity and a high moral purpose, united with a pro¬ foundly reverent spirit.

His sermon on the "Transient and Permanent in Christianity," at an ordination in South Boston (May 19, 1841), was the occasion of a strong outbreak of feeling against him. The doctrine which was the subject of this discourse was a favorite topic with him, - namely, the distinction on the one hand between the permanent and immortal clement in Christianity, which is the true religion, suited to all times and all men, and destined to imper¬ ishable life, and which was taught by Jesus himself; and, on the other hand, the transient , consisting of the opinions of men, the dogmas and forms, the ecclesiastical arrangements, creeds, etc., which embody the notions of men about the absolute and eternal, and are destined to change from age to age. What most caused the commotion in the community and the churches was the freedom with which he spoke of the inspiration of the Scriptures and of the miracles there recorded. Many were shocked, many offended and irri¬ tated ; and a sort of dismay, arising from various causes, pervaded the religious denomination with which he was connected, and, with few excep¬ tions, their ministers withdrew from ministerial intercourse with him. A warm and excited controversy followed ; his opinions and utterances were denounced and opposed in various forms, and journals and pamphlets car¬ ried on the war. A few came out in the pulpit and elsewhere in his defence, and without assenting to his opinions declared themselves in favor of free and independent speech, and opposed his being excluded from the old in¬ tercourse merely on the ground of free utterance of opinions discordant with their own.

His views naturally spread in the train of the discussion, as this became more and more widely remarked and followed. A gift of clear and strong statement helped their acceptance, so that they found ready access to many minds. The inspiration of the freedom with which he spoke, and assailed the opinions and dogmas which oppressed and hampered the minds of so many, attracted not a few. His ardent interest in the great questions of humanity then agitating society, especially that of slavery,1 commended to the ardent partisans in these matters his opinions on more abstract ques¬ tions. He was naturally connected with the Transcendental party, and gener¬ ally attended the meetings of the club before mentioned ; was connected with the publication of the Dial , for which he wrote much, and was associated in social intercourse and intimacy, as he was in the public mind, with many of the prominent members of that party.

About the end of 1845 he was invited to preach to a congregation in Boston, to afford him the opportunity of teaching freely in a wider sphere, and where more could hear him, the views and doctrines now of so wide interest. He entered on this new position early in 1846. This society, which became known as the Twenty-eighth Congregational Society, met first in the Melodeon, afterward in the Music Hall, where for many years he preached to large multitudes with strong and stirring eloquence. Here he gave his views on religion and morals, and on the exciting topics of politics, especially slavery and the fugitive-slave law. On these occasions he at¬ tacked unsparingly some of the prominent and distinguished characters of the day, whom he considered treacherous to the cause of humanity.

These practical questions did not, however, draw him away from his theological studies ; and in the midst of the warfare he published several editions of his Discourse of Religion, the object of which was to present to the community the grounds of belief in the doctrines of what are called Natural and Revealed Religion.1 This, and other works in the like tone and direction, were widely read and accepted. Many hailed them as a new light to their minds, and found satisfaction in the clear and earnest statement of grounds of belief in what specially concerned their highest nature, and which seemed to afford a more stable and satisfactory foundation than they had before known. Mr. Parker's position in the theological and antislavery controversies engaged him in a very extensive acquaintance and correspond¬ ence. Persons from near and far, whom his words had reached, were eager for closer intercourse with one to whom they felt themselves so much in¬ debted. Many came to his house to see and talk with him ; and notwith¬ standing his overwhelming occupations, and the varied and complicated network of his engagements, he rarely denied himself to such, however trifling or unprofitable their demands.

The Sunday services at the Music Hall became a very notable and con¬ spicuous institution of our city. Here he sometimes treated the great problems of religion and life, assailing moral abuses or dogmatic errors; or from week to week, as any great event or occasion bearing on the claims, rights, or duties of humanity came along, - - any exciting questions or incidents, legislative injustice, or popular violence, - in that most electric period of fierce excitement he " fulmined " over Boston from his pulpit, or pleaded with gentler appeals in behalf of the elevation and relief of the suffering and distressed in every form. Mr. Parker maintained all this

1 He thus states the primitive ground of our belief, or rather of our knowledge, of the ex¬ istence of God. " It may be called," he says, " in the language of philosophy, an intuition of the reason. . . . Our belief in God's existence does not depend on the h posteriori argument, on considerations drawn from the order, fitness, or beauty discovered by observations made on the material world. It depends primarily on no ar¬ gument whatever ; on no reasoning, but on Rea¬ son. . . . The intuitive perception of God is af¬ terward fundamentally and logically established by the h priori, and beautifully confirmed by the h posteriori, argument ; but we are not left without the idea of God till we become meta¬ physicians and naturalists, and so till we can discover it by much thinking." varied existence, in spite of failing health, until he was finally obliged to give up his work and go abroad for his health. He died not long after in Florence.1

In 1835 Mr. A. Bronson Alcott opened a school for young children at the Masonic Temple in Boston. This was a remarkable and noteworthy experiment, and claims some notice, since marked philosophical thought and a high ideal were embodied in its conception, and in the novel and peculiar way in which it was conducted. Whatever we may think of the success of the experiment, we may say at least, if he failed, Magnis tamen excidit ansis. It was founded on the principle of the Platonic philosophy, that all abstract truth exists in the soul of man ; and its aim was not to im¬ part knowledge from without, but to educe both truth and knowledge from the mind of the child, where it lies, unrecognized and unknown perhaps, but still existing in a purer form, or less encumbered by errors, than in later life.2

The famous ode of Wordsworth on Immortality may almost be taken as Mr. Alcott's creed in this matter. His thought, as shown in this and in various other manifestations, placed him, in the public estimation, very de¬ cidedly among the Transcendentalists, and in the category which we pre¬ sume he himself would choose, if any, of Platonism. The thought, idea, method, and genius of Plato were the especial objects of his admiration and sympathy; and he may, with as much justice as any modern man, be reckoned among his disciples, and has ever reproduced, expounded, and preached his doctrines. He has always most persistently followed in prac¬ tice the Platonic or Socratic method of teaching or developing truth, - by conversation ; having a profound and unfailing confidence in its value, its power, and its efficacy, and laying the greatest stress on these. For many years he has, when favorable opportunities have offered, embraced them to practise his favorite mode of instruction, and to impart the views he holds so important (of the spiritual nature and destiny of man, and his close relation to the divine), at the same time always manifesting a warm sympathy with whatever in literature and religious history he found cognate with his fervent and unwavering faith in man's divine origin and immortal being. These conversations have at times had very impressive and inspiring effects, and have met with a warm response from large numbers, - of late years particularly at the West, where he has found many to welcome his

1 [See John T. Sargent's Theodore Parker, the Reform Pulpit, and the Influences that Oppose it. Boston, 1852 ; and other references in the note to Parker's portrait in Vol. III. - Ed.]

2 A few extracts from the preface to the Con¬ versations on the Gospels, which is a sort of record of the course pursued, will show something of the aim and methods of this attempt to educe moral and spiritual thought from the minds of children. " It is," he says, " an attempt to un¬ fold the idea of spirit from the consciousness of childhood, and to trace its intellectual and cor¬ poreal relations, its struggles and conquests, while in the flesh. . . . Assuming as a fact the spiritual integrity of the young mind, he [Mr. Alcott] was desirous to place under the inspection of chil¬ dren a character so much in conformity with their own as that of Jesus of Nazareth. ... It [the record of these conversations] is a revela¬ tion of the divinity in the soul of childhood." presentation of high and spiritual truth. He generally attended the meet¬ ings of the Transcendental Club, of which he was an early and zealous mem¬ ber, and contributed some papers to the Dial, with the title of " Orphic Sayings." \\ hat most deserves our interest and respect in his course and position is his unwavering and unfailing loyalty to the principles of thought of which we have spoken, and his persistent devotion to the highest con¬ ception of the soul and the spiritual life.

I he position of Miss Margaret Fuller, as producing a marked influence on the mind of a large circle both of the young and of her contemporaries in age, demands some notice. Her conversations, held in Boston with an audience of thoughtful and cultivated women, seem to have been her oppor¬ tunity. 1 hey were continued for several successive winters. It is sufficient to mention some of the topics discussed to show something of their character, or at least their aim, - namely, Greek Mythology, Fine Arts, Faith, Creeds, Woman, Culture, Prudence, etc. She was also at one time editor of the Dial. Her influence on the circle she drew around her, especially on her intimate friends, was remarkable, being both intellectual and moral; par¬ ticularly on women, to whose hearts and minds she seems to have had a peculiar and most direct access. In exciting them to thought and aspira¬ tion for higher culture, or perhaps more especially in leading them to disregard some conventional trammels, and in assisting their endeavors to a higher, more religious, and self-sustained life, she found her mission.1

Of course this new phase of thought called Transcendentalism had many opponents. Persons of conservative opinions in religion, morals, politics, and literature were disturbed, offended, or disgusted at what seemed to them its pernicious influences on the great interests of society. Some were amused at what appeared to be its extravagances or absurdities ; and some attacked its arguments and its doctrines, or criticised what they deemed to be its inconsistencies and false pretensions, in elaborate counter statements and arguments, or they deplored with sincere dislike and apprehension what seemed to them its disastrous tendencies. Others used freely the weapons of ridicule and sarcasm, for which the novelty, to say the least, of some of the utterances of its adherents and organs appeared to offer fair oppor¬ tunity.2

2 Among the more decided and declared an¬ tagonists of this philosophy, besides Professor Norton, was Mr. Bowen, professor of moral and metaphysical science in Harvard University. Mr. Emerson's Nature, which appeared in 1836, gave occasion for a review of the work in the Christian Examiner, January, 1837, by Mr. Bowen. As that little book was looked upon as a sort of condensed essence of the spirit of Transcendentalism, and open to all the charges brought against it, Mr. Bowen took the opportu¬ nity to oppose the obnoxious system, in an ad¬ verse and unfavorable criticism, with charges of novel and unwarrantable language, of new and barbarous words, indicating vagueness and in¬ completeness of thought in the minds of the writers, and producing obscurity to their read¬ ers. Other charges, besides innovation and ob¬ scurity, are those of dogmatism and arrogance in the assertion of their opinions. He then goes on to a more direct discussion of the philo¬ sophy, to show its shallowness and falsehood, and incidentally eulogizes Locke, whose philo¬ sophy was especially assailed and disparaged by

Let us in conclusion glance rapidly at some of the salient features of the excitable condition of mind which characterized the period with which we are dealing. In the sphere of morals, the strong assertion by Mr. Garrison and his followers of first and absolute principles opened the minds and roused the feelings of the community; and while it powerfully moved the sympathy of those favorably inclined by nature or education, aroused the fears, disgust, or bitter hostility of the adverse element. Two parties were thus arrayed in fierce antagonism, which showed itself in excited meet¬ ings and conventions on the one side and the other, or, with those of more brutal instincts, in mobs and violence. The discussion of abstract princi¬ ples, provoked primarily by the Abolition doctrines, soon ran off in all di¬ rections, and brought up all sorts of abstract questions and their unqualified application. Thus the whole theory of government, of social life, its arrange¬ ments and usages, - questions of the right to take life at all, leading logically to the doctrine of absolute non-resistance, and thus striking at the founda¬ tion of all governmental control and organization, - were brought under consideration. So the right of taxation to support a government of force was denied ; and with some the Constitution of the United States, as not condemning slavery, - "the sum of all villanies,"- - was of no binding value. Then followed the denial of the right to take animal life, thus lead¬ ing to the disuse of animal food and of substances derived to the use of man from the enslavement and slaughter of the brute creation. Then came the question of women having an equal right with men on the platforms of the free societies, which came up most naturally in connection with the broad principles of freedom professed ; and this opened the whole question of woman's prerogatives, and of the right to exclude her from equal partici¬ pation in the duties and offices of society and government. These, and allied questions, led to inconveniences and embarrassments, and sometimes to ludicrous scenes and incidents, of which the hostile critics were not slow to make the most.

Another extreme question, which to some seemed to flow logically from acknowledged principles, as well as from those recognized as the very essence of Christianity, was that of the right to hold and use money, as inthe opposite party. We give in his own words one of the objections which he, in concert with the popular voice, makes to this philosophy : " The distinguishing trait of the Transcendental philosophy is the appeal which it makes from the authority of reason to that of passion and feeling," - a statement to which the advocates and receivers of this system would doubtless most decidedly object. He also brings a charge which they might not be very anxious to repel, of its being a revival of the old Platonic School. In the Examiner, in November of the same year, Professor Bowen returns to the charge, and in a long and elaborate article compares and contrasts the claims of the philosophy of

Locke, or that of experience, with that of this new school. In this he pursues substantially the same line of argument and criticism, but in a more extended and elaborate way, and repeats the charges and objections against the Transcen¬ dental system and its adherents, - of arrogance, and obscure and unwarrantable use of language. He naturally has a good deal to say of the Ger¬ man metaphysicians, of whom he takes a very unfavorable view ; and of Coleridge, too, who among the English thinkers was considered as rather the type of this mode of thought and speculation. [There is a portrait and sketch of Mr. Bowen in the Harvard Register, May, 1881. - Ed.]

volving, in substance, consequences inconsistent with human brotherhood. A small journal was published, and continued for a few numbers, called, we think, the Herald of Holiness , which maintained the moral evil of the use of money, and by its earnestness and appeals to high moral considerations interested and impressed some minds.

In all this tendency to extremes, and indeed to what may be called ex¬ travagances, it is interesting and gratifying to observe that in this region at least there was not that tendency to run into licentious doctrine or practice, or more lax principles of morality, which has sometimes shown itself in times of similar mental and moral excitement. On the contrary, the ten¬ dency was to a more strict and even ascetic behavior.

The excitement and interest of this discussion and action of the time reached and pervaded various classes of society, - alike those of high culture and those less educated, but in whom the moral instincts and principles asserted themselves with force, and often in language of rough strength, which was quite current at the time. The Antislavery meetings naturally abounded in specimens of forcible and often rude eloquence, as they had for their staples the exciting and inspiring themes which easily lent themselves to stirring oratory. On their platform might be witnessed a remarkable combination of the higher mixed with the ruder but forci¬ ble oratory. Here were, indeed, the refined feeling and feminine dignity of Lucretia Mott and the Misses Grimke; the splendid power, rare bril¬ liancy, glowing words, and trenchant logic of Thompson and Phillips ; but also the more rude, but most effective and telling blows of the Goodells and Burleighs and Fosters. That this period has left an abiding influence on the moral and intellectual thought and culture of the country we cannot doubt ; and may we not hope, too, that the later, broader, and freer spirit, grafted on the strong and sturdy Puritan stock, will yield rich and whole¬ some fruits? 1

1 Our limits have obliged us to omit the men¬ tion of several who deserve notice among those whose teaching or writing has had an influence in modifying, directing, or enlightening the thought of our community, like the Rev. O. A. Brownson, Professor C. C. Everett, and others; but we have chosen to dwell at some length upon some prom¬ inent names, rather than furnish little more than a bare catalogue of all who might seem to require notice. We cannot, however, allow ourselves to pass by the name of Miss Elizabeth P. Pea¬ body, without some reference at least to her longcontinued, disinterested, and unfailing exertions and zeal in promoting everything that prom¬ ised greater freedom, elevation, and breadth of philosophic, philanthropic, or religious thought or action. We trust that better justice may be done to her character and efficient services than belongs to our subject. Her conversations with Dr. Channing, reported in the volume recently published by her, are in this wise very important, VOL. IV. - 42.

as through various channels they found their way to the minds of a wide circle in the commu¬ nity. This influence was also felt in her teach¬ ing, which has ever been characterized by high and ideal aims.

At one time (about 1840) she opened a room for a circulating library and the sale of foreign books and journals. This became a sort of Tran¬ scendental Exchange. Persons young and old resorted here, partly to talk with the learned and active-minded proprietor, to get the literary news of the day, the last word of philosophy, of religious literature and thought. Many persons of high culture, or of distinction in the sphere of religious philosophy, philanthropy, or litera¬ ture, were often here, and likely to meet others, like themselves, interested in the questions then agitating the community, or to talk on the calmer topics of literature and philosophy. Some of Miss Fuller's conversations were held at Miss Peabody's house in West Street.