up in the garret. But Anna begged hard for a tiny room adjoining Mrs.
Alcott’s, and great was the joy she took in it. Of course it all was
very primitive. The men bathed in the brook in the early morning and the
shower-baths that Anna speaks of in her diary were accomplished
thus:—rough clothes-horses covered with sheets were put in a circle and
the bathers stood hidden within, while Mr. Alcott, mounted on some
wooden steps, poured water from a pitcher through a sieve on their head.
(This was told the author by an old lady who when very young went to
visit the children.)
Hired laborers and beasts of burden were against the principles of the
Community, but in order to make headway against the advancing season
they seemed to be a necessity. This concession, however, troubled the
philosophers, and it was decided to carry out the original plan and rely
wholly on the spade instead of the plough, even at a cost of valuable
time. The results were rather disastrous: Charles Lane’s hands became
sore and painful, and lame backs seriously interfered with progress.
Sobered by this new experience, the philosophers met in conclave, and as
a result Joseph Palmer, who always came to the rescue in trying
situations, went to No Town and brought back his plough and yoke of
oxen, as he called it—it really was an ox and a cow which he had trained
to work together. Besides the outdoor work much writing was done
indoors. Charles Lane and Bower wrote prolifically to different papers.
The _Herald of Freedom_, the _Vermont Telegraph_ and the _New York
Tribune_ of that summer are full of their writings.
* * * * *
Mr. Alcott’s Diary furnishes clear evidence of his purposes and hopes:—
“I would abstain from the fruits of oppression and blood, and am seeking
means of entire independence. This, were I not holden by penury
unjustly, would be possible. One miracle we have wrought nevertheless,
and shall soon work all of them: Our wine is water, flesh, bread—drugs,
fruits; and we defy meekly the satyrs all, and Æsculapians. The Soul’s
banquet is an art divine.... This Beast named Man has yet most costly
tastes, and must first be transformed into a very Man, regenerate in
appetite and desire, before the earth shall be restored to fruitfulness,
and redeemed from the curse of his cupidity. Then shall the toils of the
farm become eloquent and invigorating leisures; Man shall grow his
orchards and plant his gardens—an husbandman truly, sowing and reaping
in hope, and a partaker in his hope. Labor will be attractive; life will
not be worn in anxious and indurating toils; it will be a scene of mixed
leisure, recreation, labor, culture. The soil, grateful then for man’s
generous usage, debauched no more by foul ordures, nor worn by
cupidities, shall recover its primeval virginity, bearing on its bosom
the standing bounties which a sober and liberal Providence ministers to
his heed—sweet and invigorating growths, for the health and comfort of
the grower.”
* * * * *
Mr. Sanborn, commenting on this, remarks:—
“It was in the spirit of the passages just quoted from Alcott’s
diary ... and not from the ordinary Fourieristic notions about
attractions and destinies and coöperative housekeeping that Alcott
undertook his experiment at ‘Fruitlands.’”
* * * * *
Alcott’s theory of human life was thus set down in his Diary:—
“I have been (as is ever the habit of my mind) striving to apprehend the
real in the seeming, to strip ideas of their adventitious phrases, and
behold them in their order and powers. I have sought to penetrate the
showy terrestrial to find the heavenly things; I have tried to translate
into ideas the language and images of spirit, and thus to read God in
his works. The outward I have seen as the visible type of the inward.
Ever doth this same nature double its divine form, and stand forth—now
before the inner, now before the outer sense of man—at once substance
and form, image and idea, so that God shall never slip wholly from
consciousness of the Soul. Faith apprehends his agency, even in the
meanest and most seemingly trivial act, whenever organ or matter undergo
change of function or mode of form,—Spirit being all in all. Amidst all
tumults and discomfitures, all errors and evils, Faith discerns the
subtle bond that marries opposite natures, clinging to that which holds
all in harmonious union. It unites opposites; it demolishes opposing
forces. It melts all solid and obstinate matters. It makes fluid the
material universe. It hopes even in despair, believes in the midst of
doubts, apprehends stability and order even in confusion and anarchy,
and, while all without is perturbed and wasting, it possesses itself in
quietude and repose within. It abides in the unswerving, is mighty in
the omnipotent, and enduring in the eternal. The soul quickened by its
agency, though borne on the waves of the mutable and beset by the winds
of error and the storms of evil, shall ride securely under this
directing hand to the real and the true. In the midst of change, it
shall remain unchanged. For to such a faith is the divine order of God
made known. All visible things are but manifestations of this order.
Nature, with all its change, is but the activity of this power. It flows
around and obeys the invisible self-anchored spirit. Mutability to such
a vision, is as the eddy that spirit maketh around its own self-circling
agency, revealing alike in the smallest ripple and the mightiest surges
the power that stirreth at the centre.”
VI
FATHER HECKER’S DESCRIPTION OF FRUITLANDS
[Isaac Thomas Hecker was born in New York in 1819. Two years after his
experience at Brook Farm and Fruitlands he entered the Roman Catholic
church, and in 1849 he was ordained a priest. Later he founded the
Paulist Fathers. He died in 1888. The following extracts are taken from
a contemporary record of his impressions while in the socialistic
community.]
“Fruitlands,” so called because fruit was to be the principal staple of
daily food, and to be cultivated on the farm, was a spot well chosen; it
was retired, breathing quiet and tranquillity. No neighboring dwelling
obstructed the view of Nature, and it lay some distance even from a
bypath road, in a delightful solitude. The house, somewhat dilapidated,
was on the slope of a slowly ascending hill; stretched before it was a
small valley under cultivation, with fields of corn, potatoes, and
meadow. In the distance loomed up on high “Cheshire’s haughty hill,”
Monadnoc. Such was the spot chosen by men inspired to live a holier
life, to bring Eden once more upon earth. These men were impressed with
the religiousness of their enterprise. When the first load of hay was
driven into the barn and the first fork was about to be plunged into it,
one of the family took off his hat and said, “I take off my hat, not
that I reverence the barn more than other places, but because this is
the first fruit of our labor.” Then a few moments were given to silence,
that holy thought might be awakened.
* * * * *
July 7, 1843. Brook Farm.
I go to Mr. Alcott’s next Tuesday, if nothing happens. I have had three
pairs of coarse pants and a coat made for me. It is my intention to
commence work as soon as I get there. I will gradually simplify my dress
without making any sudden difference, although it would be easier to
make a radical and thorough change at once than piece by piece. But this
will be a lesson in patient perseverance to me. All our difficulties
should be looked at in such a light as to improve and elevate our minds.
I can hardly prevent myself from saying how much I shall miss the
company of those I love and associate with here. But I must go. I am
called with a stronger voice. This is a different trial from any I have
ever had. I have never had that of leaving kindred, but now I have that
of leaving those whom I love from affinity. If I wished to live a life
the most gratifying to me, and in agreeable company, I certainly would
remain here. Here are refining amusements, cultivated persons—and one
whom I have not spoken of, one who is too much to me to speak of, one
who would leave all for me. Alas! him I must leave to go.
[Illustration:
ISAAC T. HECKER
]
* * * * *
“[In this final sentence, as it now stands in the diary and as we have
transcribed it, occurs one of those efforts of which we have spoken to
obliterate the traces of this early attachment. ‘Him’ was originally
written ‘her,’ but the _r_ has been lengthened to an _m_, and the _e_
dotted, both with care which overshot their mark, by an almost
imperceptible hair’s breadth. If the nature of this attachment were not
so evident from other sources, we should have left such passages
unquoted; fearing lest they might be misunderstood. As it is, the light
they cast seems to us to throw up into fuller proportions the kind and
extent of the renunciations to which Isaac Hecker was called before he
had arrived at any clear view of the end to which they tended.]”[9]
Footnote 9:
Walter Elliott’s _Life of Father Hecker_.
* * * * *
Fruitlands, July 12.
Last evening I arrived here. After tea I went out in the fields and
raked hay for an hour in company with the persons here. We returned and
had a conversation on clothing. Some very fine things were said by Mr.
Alcott and Mr. Lane. In most of their thoughts I coincide; they are the
same which of late have much occupied my mind. Alcott said that “to
Emerson the world was a lecture room, to Brownson a rostrum.”
This morning after breakfast a conversation was held on Friendship and
its laws and conditions. Mr. Alcott places Innocence first; Larned,
Thoughtfulness; I, Seriousness; Lane, Fidelity.
* * * * *
July 13.
This morning after breakfast there was held a conversation on the
Highest Aim. Mr. Alcott said it was Integrity; I, Harmonic being; Lane,
Progressive being; Larned, Annihilation of self; Bower, Repulsion of the
evil in us. Then there was a confession of the obstacles which prevent
us from attaining the highest aim. Mine was the doubt whether the light
is light; not want of will to follow, or light to see.
* * * * *
July 17.
I cannot understand what it is that leads me, or what I am after. Being
is incomprehensible. What shall I be led to? Is there a being whom I may
marry and who would be the means of opening my eyes? Sometimes I think
so, but it appears impossible. Why should others tell me that it is so,
and will be so, in an unconscious way, as Larned did on Sunday last, and
as others have done before him? Will I be led home? It strikes me these
people here, Alcott and Lane, will be a great deal to me. I do not know
but they may be what I am looking for, or the answer to that in me which
is asking.
Can I say it? I believe it should be said. Here I cannot end. They are
too near me; they do not awaken in me that sense of their high
superiority which would keep me here to be bettered, to be elevated.
They have much, very much. I desire Mr. Alcott’s strength of
self-denial, and the unselfishness of Mr. Lane in money matters. In both
these they are far my superior. I would be meek, humble, and sit at
their feet that I might be as they are. They do not understand me, but
if I am what my consciousness, my heart, lead me to feel,—if I am not
deceived,—why, then I can wait. Yes, patiently wait. Is not this the
first time since I have been here that I have recovered myself? Do I not
feel that I have something to receive here, to add to, to increase my
highest life, which I have never felt anywhere else?
Is this sufficient to keep me here? If I can prophesy, I must say no. I
feel that it will not fill my capacity. Oh God! strengthen my
resolution. Let me not waver, and continue my life. But I am sinful. Oh
forgive my sins! what shall I do, O Lord! that they may be blotted out?
Lord could I only blot them out from my memory, nothing would be too
great or too much.
* * * * *
July 18.
I have thought of my family this afternoon, and the happiness and love
with which I might return to them. To leave them, to give up the idea of
living with them again.—Can I entertain that idea? Still, I cannot
conceive how I can engage in business, share the practices, and indulge
myself with the food and garmenture of our home and city. To return
home, were it possible for me, would most probably not only stop my
progress, but put me back. It is useless for me to speculate upon my
future. Put dependence on the spirit which leads me, be faithful to it,
work and leave results to God. If the question should be asked me,
whether I would give up my kindred and business and follow out this
spirit life, or return and enjoy them both, I could not hesitate a
moment, for they would not compare—there would be no room for choice.
What I do I must do, for it is not I that do it; it is the spirit. What
that spirit may be is a question I cannot answer. What it leads me to do
will be the only evidence of its character. I feel as impersonal as a
stranger to it. I ask who are you? Where are you going to take me? Why
me? Why not some one else? Alas! I cry, who am I and what does this
mean? And I am lost in wonder.
* * * * *
Saturday, July 21.
Yesterday, after supper, a conversation took place between Mr. Alcott,
Mr. Lane, and myself; the subject was my position with regard to my
family, my duty, and my position here. Mr. Alcott asked for my first
impressions as regards the hinderances that I have noted since coming
here. I told him candidly they were:
First, his want of frankness; 2d, his disposition to separateness rather
than win co-operation with the aims in his own mind; 3d, his family who
prevent his immediate plans of reformation; 4th, the fact that his place
has very little fruit on it, when it was and is their desire that fruit
should be the principal part of their diet; 5th, my fear that they have
too decided tendency toward literature and writing for the prosperity
and success of their enterprise.
* * * * *
[From this on, the diary is full of questionings and unrest. Should he
return to his family and live as an ordinary man, or should he listen to
the urge of the spirit within and seek further for the light? These and
other questions pursued him night and day. Finally he came to a
conclusion.]
* * * * *
July 23.
I will go home, be true to the spirit with the help of God, and wait for
further light and strength.... I feel that I cannot live at this place
as I would. This is not the place for my soul.... My life is not theirs.
They have been the means of giving me much light on myself, but I feel I
would live and progress more in a different atmosphere.
* * * * *
[It is interesting to note that after his return home he continued the
diet which was used at Fruitlands. The account of his life states: “One
of the first noteworthy things revealed by the diary, which from this
time on was kept with less regularity than before,—is that Isaac not
only maintained his abstemious habits after his return, but increased
their vigor.”]
* * * * *
August 30.
If the past nine months or more are any evidence, I find that I can live
on very simple diet—grains, fruit, and nuts. I have just commenced to
eat the latter; I drink pure water. So far I have had wheat ground and
made into unleavened bread, but as soon as we get in a new lot, I shall
try it in the grain.
* * * * *
Hecker had evidently at this time a practical conviction of the truth of
a principle which, in after years, he repeated in the form of a maxim of
the Transcendentalists: “A gross feeder will never be a central
thinker.” It is a truth of the spiritual no less than of the
intellectual order. A little later we come upon the following profession
of a vegetarian faith:—
“Reasons for not eating animal food.
“It does not feed the spirit.
“It stimulates the propensities.
“It is taking animal life when the other kingdoms offer sufficient and
better increment. Slaughter strengthens the lower instincts. It is the
chief cause of the slavery of the kitchen.
“It generates in the body the diseases animals are subject to, and
encourages in man their bestiality.
“Its odor is offensive and its appearance unæsthetic.”
* * * * *
Mr. Alcott’s death in 1888 was the occasion of reminiscences from Father
Hecker, from which a few extracts are taken:—
“When did I first know him? Hard to remember. He was the head of
Fruitlands, as Ripley was of Brook Farm. They were entirely different
men. Diogenes and his tub would have been Alcott’s ideal if he had
carried it out. Ripley’s ideal would have been Epictetus. Ripley would
have taken with him the good things of this life. Alcott would have
rejected them all.”
“How did he receive you at Fruitlands?”
“Very kindly, but from mixed and selfish motives. I suspect he wanted me
because he thought I would bring money to the Community. Lane was
entirely unselfish.”
“Alcott was a man of great intellectual gifts or acquirements. His
knowledge came chiefly from experience and instinct. He had an
insinuating and persuasive way with him.”
“What if he had been a Catholic, and thoroughly sanctified?”
“He could have been nothing but a hermit like those of the fourth
century—he was naturally and constitutionally so odd. Emerson, Alcott,
and Thoreau were three consecrated cranks.”
* * * * *
Here also are two interesting passages from the “Life of Father Hecker,”
and a few memoranda of private conversations:—
“Somebody once described ‘Fruitlands’ as a place where Mr. Alcott looked
benign and talked philosophy, while Mrs. Alcott and the children did the
work. Still to look benign is a good deal for a man to do persistently
in an adverse world, indifferent for the most part to the charms of
‘divine philosophy,’ and Mr. Alcott persevered in that exercise until
his latest day.”
“He was unquestionably one of those who like to sit upon a platform,”
wrote at the time of his death, one who knew Alcott well, “and he may
have liked to feel that his venerable aspect had the effect of a
benediction.” “But with this mild criticism, censure of him is well-nigh
exhausted.”
“Fruitlands was very different from Brook Farm—far more ascetic.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“Yes; but they did not begin to satisfy me. I said to them: If you had
the Eternal here, all right, I would be with you.”
“Had they no notion of hereafter?”
“No, nothing definite. Their idea was human perfection. They set out to
demonstrate what man can do in the way of the supremacy of the spiritual
over the animal; All right, I said, I agree with you fully. I admire
your asceticism; it is nothing new to me; I have practiced it a long
time myself. If you can get the Everlasting out of my mind, I’m yours.
But I know that I am going to live forever.”
“What did Mr. Alcott say when you left?”
“He went to Lane and said, ‘Well, Hecker has flunked out. He hadn’t the
courage to persevere. He’s a coward.’ But Lane said, ‘No; you’re
mistaken. Hecker is right. He wanted more than we had to give him.’”
VII
ANNA ALCOTT’S DIARY AT FRUITLANDS
1843.
This morning I rose pretty early. After breakfast I read and wrote
stories. In the afternoon I wrote some letters, And the following ode to
Louisa:—
Louisa dear
With love sincere
Accept this little gift from me.
It is with pleasure
I send this treasure
And with it send much love to thee.
Sister dear
Never fear.
God will help you if you try.
Do not despair,
But always care
To be good and love to try.
* * * * *
June 6, 1843.
Having been busy helping arrange things for moving last Thursday, we
left Concordia later for Harvard. I walked part of the way, the distance
being 14 miles from Concord to Harvard. I felt sad at the thought of
leaving Concord and all my little friends, the birth-place of Abba where
I had spent many happy hours; but Father and Mother and my dear sisters
were going with me, and that would make me happy anywhere, I think. We
arrived at our new home late in the afternoon. Our first load of
furniture had come before us. We found Christy, Wood Abraham, and
William all here. Mother was well pleased with the house. There is no
beauty in the house itself, but to look out on three sides, you can see
mountains, hills, woods, and in some places the Still River may be seen
through the trees. At some distance are the Shaker Villages. On the
whole, I like the house very well. After eating our supper we fixed our
beds and went early to bed. Having no time to put up the bedsteads, we
slept on the floor which made my back lame. Friday and Saturday in
working and arranging the house in order. To-day in the morning I
cleared the table and washed the dishes, being washing day. I washed
with Mother and got dinner. In the afternoon I sewed and read. I did not
do much this evening, for I went to bed when I had finished the dishes.
The men have been planting to-day corn, and cutting wood and fixing
round about the house out of doors.
* * * * *
Wednesday, 11.
I began my school to-day. We commenced by singing, “When the day with
rosy light.” It seemed so pleasant to sing with my sisters. After
singing I wrote my journal and the girls wrote in their books. They then
studied arithmetic lesson. I then gave them a recess, after which they
spelt, read and Louisa recited geography. At eleven the school was
dismissed. In the afternoon I sewed for my dolly and took care of Abba,
then all went to walk in the woods. It was quiet and beautiful there and
I felt a calmness in myself. The sun was shining and the birds were
singing in the branches of the high trees. It was so beautiful it seemed
as if God was near me. I made some oak leaf wreaths, one for father and
one for mother, and stuck flowers in them. They looked very pretty
indeed. Then we returned from our walk and prepared for supper. In the
evening I sang with Christy, William, mother, and sisters.
* * * * *
Thursday, 8.
To-day I gave the children lessons this morning. In the afternoon I
wrote. Christy is going to teach me arithmetic and composition, and the
subject upon which I am to write is our plan of life. The part I wrote
on to-day was flesh-eating. I will write it in here.
[Illustration:
ABBA MAY ALCOTT
]
[Illustration:
LOUISA MAY ALCOTT
]
[Illustration:
ANNA BRONSON ALCOTT
]
COMPOSITION
Life was given to the animals not to be destroyed by men, but to make
them happy, and that they might enjoy life. But men are not satisfied
with slaying the innocent creatures, but they eat them and so make their
bodies of flesh meat. O how many happy lives have been destroyed and how
many loving families have been separated to please an unclean appetite
of men! Why were the fruits, berries and vegetables given us if it was
intended that we should eat flesh? I am sure it was not. We enjoy the
beautiful sights and thoughts God has given us in peace. Why not let
them do the same? We have souls to feel and think with, and as they have
not the same power of thinking, they should be allowed to live in peace
and not made to labour so hard and be beaten so much. Then to eat them!
eat what has had life and feeling to make the body of the innocent
animals! If treated kindly, they would be kind and tame and love men,
but as they now are abused and cruelly treated they do not feel the
feeling of “love” towards men. Besides flesh is not clean food, and when
there is beautiful juicy fruits who can be a flesh-eater?
* * * * *
In the evening I sang again as I did last night.
* * * * *
Friday, 9.
After breakfast, it being my day for dishes, I cleared up the table. At
eleven I had my composition lesson. In the afternoon I sewed, read and
played. I sewed in the evening and went to bed early.
* * * * *
Saturday, 10.
This morning father and Mr. Lane went to visit the Shakers in Harvard
town. I did the chamber work and then worked and made some bread for
dinner, and prepared things ready for it. In the afternoon I laid down,
it being very warm out, and read in “Devereux” which pleased me very
well. It rained hard and steadily for some time. Father and Mr. Lane
returned late in the afternoon. They brought home sweet things they had
purchased of the Shakers. We played out on the grounds a little while
and then I read and went to bed early.
* * * * *
Sunday, 11.
I read until 10 o’clock when we had reading. In the afternoon I read,
wrote and had my lessons with Christy. In the evening I received a note
from mother accompanied by a roll containing some wafers and some note
paper. It was as follows:—
* * * * *
DEAR ANNA:
I send you a little note paper and a few wafers. You have so much to do
lately that I cannot expect you to write often to me, but you must not
forget that this is a little duty of yours that gives me a great deal of
happiness. This last word reminds me of one of father’s beautiful
selections to-day.