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The summer of 1839 saw the full dawn of the Transcendental movement in
New England. The rise of this enthusiasm was as mysterious as that
of any form of revival; and only they who were of the faith
could comprehend how bright was this morning-time of a new hope.
Transcendentalism was an assertion of the inalienable integrity of
man, of the immanence of Divinity in instinct. In part, it was a
reaction against Puritan Orthodoxy; in part, an effect of renewed
study of the ancients, of Oriental Pantheists, of Plato and the
Alexandrians, of Plutarch's Morals, Seneca and Epictetus; in part, the
natural product of the culture of the place and time. On the somewhat
stunted stock of Unitarianism,--whose characteristic dogma was trust
in individual reason as correlative to Supreme Wisdom,--had been
grafted German Idealism, as taught by masters of most various
schools,--by Kant and Jacobi, Fichte and Novalis, Schelling and Hegel,
Schleiermacher and De Wette, by Madame de Stael, Cousin, Coleridge,
and Carlyle; and the result was a vague yet exalting conception of the
godlike nature of the human spirit. Transcendentalism, as viewed by
its disciples, was a pilgrimage from the idolatrous world of creeds
and rituals to the temple of the Living God in the soul. It was a
putting to silence of tradition and formulas, that the Sacred Oracle
might be heard through intuitions of the single-eyed and pure-hearted.
Amidst materialists, zealots, and sceptics, the Transcendentalist
believed in perpetual inspiration, the miraculous power of will, and a
birthright to universal good. He sought to hold communion face to face
with the unnameable Spirit of his spirit, and gave himself up to the
embrace of nature's beautiful joy, as a babe seeks the breast of a
mother. To him the curse seemed past; and love was without fear. "All
mine is thine" sounded forth to him in ceaseless benediction, from
flowers and stars, through the poetry, art, heroism of all ages, in
the aspirations of his own genius, and the budding promise of the
time. His work was to be faithful, as all saints, sages, and lovers
of man had been, to Truth, as the very Word of God. His maxims
were,--"Trust, dare and be; infinite good is ready for your asking;
seek and find. All that your fellows can claim or need is that you
should become, in fact, your highest self; fulfil, then, your
ideal." Hence, among the strong, withdrawal to private study and
contemplation, that they might be "alone with the Alone;" solemn
yet glad devotedness to the Divine leadings in the inmost will; calm
concentration of thought to wait for and receive wisdom; dignified
independence, stern yet sweet, of fashion and public opinion; honest
originality of speech and conduct, exempt alike from apology or
dictation, from servility or scorn. Hence, too, among the weak,
whimsies, affectation, rude disregard of proprieties, slothful
neglect of common duties, surrender to the claims of natural appetite,
self-indulgence, self-absorption, and self-idolatry.
By their very posture of mind, as seekers of the new, the
Transcendentalists were critics and "come-outers" from the old.
Neither the church, the state, the college, society, nor even reform
associations, had a hold upon their hearts. The past might be well
enough for those who, without make-belief, could yet put faith in
common dogmas and usages; but for them the matin-bells of a new day
were chiming, and the herald-trump of freedom was heard upon the
mountains. Hence, leaving ecclesiastical organizations, political
parties, and familiar circles, which to them were brown with drought,
they sought in covert nooks of friendship for running waters, and
fruit from the tree of life. The journal, the letter, became of
greater worth than the printed page; for they felt that systematic
results were not yet to be looked for, and that in sallies of
conjecture, glimpses and flights of ecstasy, the "Newness" lifted
her veil to her votaries. Thus, by mere attraction of affinity, grew
together the brotherhood of the "Like-minded," as they were pleasantly
nicknamed by outsiders, and by themselves, on the ground that no two
were of the same opinion. The only password of membership to this
association, which had no compact, records, or officers, was a hopeful
and liberal spirit; and its chance conventions were determined merely
by the desire of the caller for a "talk," or by the arrival of some
guest from a distance with a budget of presumptive novelties. Its
"symposium" was a pic-nic, whereto each brought of his gains, as he
felt prompted, a bunch of wild grapes from the woods, or bread-corn
from his threshing-floor. The tone of the assemblies was cordial
welcome for every one's peculiarity; and scholars, farmers, mechanics,
merchants, married women, and maidens, met there on a level of
courteous respect. The only guest not tolerated was intolerance;
though strict justice might add, that these "Illuminati" were as
unconscious of their special cant as smokers are of the perfume of
their weed, and that a professed declaration of universal independence
turned out in practice to be rather oligarchic.
Of the class of persons most frequently found at these meetings
Margaret has left the following sketch:--
'"I am not mad, most noble Festus," was Paul's rejoinder, as
he turned upon his vulgar censor with the grace of a courtier,
the dignity of a prophet, and the mildness of a saint. But
many there are, who, adhering to the faith of the soul with
that unusual earnestness which the world calls "mad," can
answer their critics only by the eloquence of their characters
and lives. Now, the other day, while visiting a person whose
highest merit, so far as I know, is to save his pennies, I was
astounded by hearing him allude to some of most approved worth
among us, thus: "You know _we_ consider _those men_ insane."
'What this meant, I could not at first well guess, so
completely was my scale of character turned topsy-turvy. But
revolving the subject afterward, I perceived that WE was
the multiple of Festus, and THOSE MEN of Paul. All the
circumstances seemed the same as in that Syrian hall; for the
persons in question were they who cared more for doing good
than for fortune and success,--more for the one risen from
the dead than for fleshly life,--more for the Being in whom we
live and move than for King Agrippa.
'Among this band of candidates for the mad-house, I found
the young poet who valued insight of nature's beauty, and the
power of chanting to his fellow-men a heavenly music, above
the prospect of fortune, political power, or a standing in
fashionable society. At the division of the goods of this
earth, he was wandering like Schiller's poet. But the
difference between American and German regulations would seem
to be, that in Germany the poet, when not "with Jove," is left
at peace on earth; while here he is, by a self-constituted
police, declared "mad."
'Another of this band was the young girl who, early taking a
solemn view of the duties of life, found it difficult to
serve an apprenticeship to its follies. She could not turn her
sweetness into "manner," nor cultivate love of approbation at
the expense of virginity of heart. In so called society she
found no outlet for her truest, fairest self, and so preferred
to live with external nature, a few friends, her pencil,
instrument, and books. She, they say, is "mad."
'And he, the enthusiast for reform, who gives away fortune,
standing in the world, peace, and only not life, because
bigotry is now afraid to exact the pound of flesh as well as
the ducats,--he, whose heart beats high with hopes for the
welfare of his race, is "mad."
'And he, the philosopher, who does not tie down his
speculation to the banner of the day, but lets the wings
of his thought upbear him where they will, as if they were
stronger and surer than the balloon let off for the amusement
of the populace,--he must be "mad." Off with him to the moon!
that paradise of noble fools, who had visions of possibilities
too grand and lovely for this sober earth.
'And ye, friends, and lovers, who see, through all the films
of human nature, in those you love, a divine energy, worthy of
creatures who have their being in very God, ye, too, are "mad"
to think they can walk in the dust, and yet shake it from
their feet when they come upon the green. These are no winged
Mercuries, no silver-sandalled Madonnas. Listen to "the
world's" truth and soberness, and we will show you that your
heart would be as well placed in a hospital, as in these
air-born palaces.
'And thou, priest, seek thy God among the people, and not in
the shrine. The light need not penetrate thine own soul.
Thou canst catch the true inspiration from the eyes of thy
auditors. Not the Soul of the World, not the ever-flowing
voice of nature, but the articulate accents of practical
utility, should find thy ear ever ready. Keep always among
men, and consider what they like; for in the silence of thine
own breast will be heard the voices that make men "mad." Why
shouldst thou judge of the consciousness of others by thine
own? May not thine own soul have been made morbid, by retiring
too much within? If Jesus of Nazareth had not fasted and
prayed so much alone, the devil could never have tempted
him; if he had observed the public mind more patiently and
carefully, he would have waited till the time was ripe, and
the minds of men prepared for what he had to say. He would
thus have escaped the ignominious death, which so prematurely
cut short his "usefulness." Jewry would thus, gently, soberly,
and without disturbance, have been led to a better course.
'"Children of this generation!"--ye Festuses and Agrippas!--ye
are wiser, we grant, than "the children of light;" yet we
advise you to commend to a higher tribunal those whom much
learning, or much love, has made "mad." For if they stay here,
almost will they persuade even you!'
Amidst these meetings of the Transcendentalists it was, that, after
years of separation, I again found Margaret. Of this body she was
member by grace of nature. Her romantic freshness of heart, her
craving for the truth, her self-trust, had prepared her from childhood
to be a pioneer in prairie-land; and her discipline in German schools
had given definite form and tendency to her idealism. Her critical
yet aspiring intellect filled her with longing for germs of positive
affirmation in place of the chaff of thrice-sifted negation; while her
æsthetic instinct responded in accord to the praise of Beauty as the
beloved heir of Good and Truth, whose right it is to reign. On the
other hand, strong common-sense saved her from becoming visionary,
while she was too well-read as a scholar to be caught by conceits, and
had been too sternly tried by sorrow to fall into fanciful effeminacy.
It was a pleasing surprise to see how this friend of earlier days was
acknowledged as a peer of the realm, in this new world of thought.
Men,--her superiors in years, fame and social position,--treated
her more with the frankness due from equal to equal, than the
half-condescending deference with which scholars are wont to adapt
themselves to women. They did not talk down to her standard, nor
translate their dialect into popular phrase, but trusted to her
power of interpretation. It was evident that they prized her verdict,
respected her criticism, feared her rebuke, and looked to her as an
umpire. Very observable was it, also, how, in side-talks with her,
they became confidential, seemed to glow and brighten into their best
mood, and poured out in full measure what they but scantily hinted in
the circle at large.