Mr. Brownson was a remarkable man, remarkable for intellectual force,

and equally for intellectual wilfulness. His mind was restless,

audacious, swift; his self assertion was immense; his thoughts came in

floods; his literary style was admirable for freshness, terseness and

vigor. Of rational stability of principle he had nothing, but was

completely at the mercy of every novelty in speculation. That others

thought as he did, was enough to make him think otherwise; that he

thought as he had six months before was a signal that it was time for

him to strike his tent and move on. An experimenter in systems, a taster

of speculations, he passed rapidly from one phase to another, so that

his friends ascribed his steadfastness to Romanism, to the fatigue of

intellectual travelling. Mr. Brownson was born in Stockbridge, Vt.,

Sept. 16, 1803. His education was scanty; his nurture was neglected; his

discipline, if such it can be called, was to the last degree unwise. The

child had visions, fancied he had received communications from the

Christ, and held spiritual intercourse with the Virgin Mary, Angels and

Saints. Of a sensitive nature on the moral and spiritual side,

interested from boyhood in religious speculations, he had, before he

reached man's estate, asked and answered, in his own passionate way, all

the deepest questions of destiny. At the age of 21, he passed from

Supernaturalism to Rationalism; at 22 became a Universalist minister; at

28 adopted what he called "The Religion of Humanity;" the year

following, joined the Unitarian ministry. At this time he studied French

and German, and became fervidly addicted to philosophy. Benjamin

Constant's theory of religion fascinated him by its brilliant

generalizations, and its novel readings of Mythology, and was

immediately adopted because it interested him and fell in with his mood

of mind. In 1833, he accepted Cousin's philosophy as he had accepted

Constant's, "attending to those things that I could appropriate to my

purposes." In 1836 he organized the "Society for Christian Union and

Progress" in Boston, and continued to be its minister till 1843. All

this time he was dallying with Socialism, principally in the form of St.

Simonianism; thought of himself as possibly the precursor of the

Messiah; threw out strange heresies on the subject of property and the

modern industrial system; and was suspected, he declared afterwards

unjustly suspected, of holding loose opinions on love and marriage. "New

Views of Christianity, Society and the Church," appeared in 1836, a

little book, written in answer to objections brought against

Christianity as being a system of extravagant spiritualism. This idea

Mr. Brownson combated, by pointing out the true character of the

religion of Jesus as contrasted with the schemes that had borne his

name, exposing the corruptions it had undergone, during the succeeding

ages, from Protestantism as well as from Romanism, and indicating the

method and the signs of a return to the primeval faith which reconciled

God and man, spirit and matter, soul and body, heaven and earth, in the

establishment of just relations between man and man, the institution of

a simply human state of society.

"Charles Elwood, or The Infidel Converted," was published in 1840. Two

or three passages from this theological discussion, thinly masked in the

guise of a novel, will suffice to class the author with

Transcendentalists of the advanced school.

"They who deny to man all inherent capacity to know God, all

immediate perception of spiritual truth, place man out of the

condition of ever knowing anything of God."... "There must be a God

within to recognize and vouch for the God who speaks to us from

without."... "I hold that the ideas or conceptions which man

attempts to embody or realize in his forms of religious faith and

worship, are intuitions of reason." "I understand by inspiration

the spontaneous revelations of the reason; and I call these

revelations divine, because I hold the reason to be divine. Its

voice is the voice of God, and what it reveals without any aid from

human agency, is really and truly a divine revelation."... "This

reason is in all men. Hence the universal beliefs of mankind, the

universality of the belief in God and religion. Hence, too, the

power of all men to judge of supernatural revelations."... "All are

able to detect the supernatural, because all have the supernatural

in themselves."

The "Boston Quarterly," was maintained five years,--from 1838 to 1842

inclusive,--and consequently covered this period. It would therefore be

safe to assume, what the volumes themselves attest, that whatever

subject was dealt with,--and all conceivable subjects were dealt

with,--were handled by the transcendental method. In the "Christian

World," a short-lived weekly, published by a brother of Dr. W. E.

Channing, Mr. Brownson began the publication of a series of articles on

the "Mission of Jesus." Seven were admitted; the eighth was declined as

being "Romanist" in its outlook. In 1844, the writer avowed himself a

Roman Catholic, and was confirmed in Boston, October 20th. The

"Convert," which contains the spiritual biography of this extraordinary

man, and from which the above facts in his mental history are partly

taken, was published in 1857. The Romanist was at that time essentially

a Transcendentalist. "Truth," he writes, "is the mind's object, and it

seeks and accepts it intuitively, as the new-born child seeks the

mother's breast from which it draws its nourishment. The office of proof

or even demonstration is negative rather than affirmative." Mr. Brownson

was the most eminent convert to Romanism of this period, when

conversions were frequent in Boston; and his influence was considerable

in turning uneasy minds to the old faith. He was a powerful writer and

lecturer, an occasional visitor at Brook Farm, but his mental

baselessness perhaps repelled nearly as many as his ingenuity beguiled.

The literary achievements of Transcendentalism are best exhibited in the

"Dial," a quarterly "Magazine for Literature, Philosophy and Religion,"

begun July, 1840, and ending April, 1844. The editors were Margaret

Fuller and R. W. Emerson; the contributors were the bright men and women

who gave voice in literary form to the various utterances of the

transcendental genius. Mr. Emerson's bravest lectures and noblest poems

were first printed there. Margaret Fuller, besides numerous pieces of

miscellaneous criticism, contributed the article on Goethe, alone enough

to establish her fame as a discerner of spirits, and the paper on "The

Great Lawsuit; Man versus Men--Woman versus Women," which was afterwards

expanded into the book "Woman in the XIXth century." Bronson Alcott

sent in chapters the "Orphic Sayings," which were an amazement to the

uninitiated and an amusement to the profane. Charles Emerson, younger

brother of the essayist, whose premature death was bewailed by the

admirers of intellect and the lovers of pure character, proved by his

"Notes from the Journal of a Scholar," that genius was not confined to a

single member of his family. George Ripley, James Freeman Clarke,

Theodore Parker, Wm. H. Channing, Henry Thoreau, Eliot Cabot, John S.

Dwight the musical critic, C. P. Cranch the artist-poet, Wm. E.

Channing, were liberal of contributions, all in characteristic ways; and

unnamed men and women did their part to fill the numbers of this most

remarkable magazine. The freshest thoughts on all subjects were brought

to the editors' table; social tendencies were noticed; books were

received; the newest picture, the last concert, was passed upon;

judicious estimates were made of reforms and reformers abroad as well as

at home; the philosophical discussions were able and discriminating; the

theological papers were learned, broad and fresh. The four volumes are

exceedingly rich in poetry, and poetry such as seldom finds a place in

popular magazines. The first year's issue contained sixty-six pieces;

the second, thirty-five; the third, fifty; the fourth, thirty-three;

among these were Emerson's earliest inspirations. The "Problem,"

"Wood-notes," "The Sphinx," "Saadi," "Ode to Beauty," "To Rhea," first

appeared in the "Dial." Harps that had long been silent, unable to make

themselves heard amid the din of the later generation, made their music

here. For Transcendentalism was essentially poetical and put its

thoughts naturally into song. The poems in the "Dial," even leaving out

the famous ones that have been printed since with their authors' names,

would make an interesting and attractive volume. How surprised would

some of those writers be if they should now in their prosaic days read

what then they wrote under the spell of that fine frenzy!

The following mystic poem, which might have come from an ancient

Egyptian, dropped from one who has since become distinguished for

something very different from mysticism. Has he seen it these many

years? Can he believe that he was ever in the mood to write it? It is

called

VIA SACRA.

Slowly along the crowded street I go,

Marking with reverent look each passer's face,

Seeking and not in vain, in each to trace

That primal soul whereof he is the show.

For here still move, by many eyes unseen,

The blessed gods that erst Olympus kept.

Through every guise these lofty forms serene

Declare the all-holding life hath never slept,

But known each thrill that in man's heart hath been,

And every tear that his sad eyes have wept.

Alas for us! the heavenly visitants,--

We greet them still as most unwelcome guests

Answering their smile with hateful looks askance,

Their sacred speech with foolish, bitter jests;

But oh! what is it to imperial Jove

That this poor world refuses all his love?

A remarkable feature of the "Dial" were the chapters of "Ethnical

Scriptures," seven in all, containing texts from the Veeshnu Sarma, the

laws of Menu, Confucius, the Desatir, the Chinese "Four Books," Hermes

Trismegistus, the Chaldaean Oracles. Thirty-five years ago, these

Scriptures, now so accessible, and in portions so familiar, were known

to the few, and were esteemed by none but scholars, whose enthusiasm for

ancient literature got the better of their religious faith. To read such

things then, showed an enlightened and courageous mind; to print them in

a magazine under the sacred title of "Scriptures" argued a most

extraordinary breadth of view. In offering these chapters to its

readers, without apology and on their intrinsic merits,

Transcendentalism exhibited its power to overpass the limits of all

special religions, and do perfect justice to all expressions of the

religious sentiment.

The creed of Transcendentalism has been sufficiently indicated. It had a

creed, and a definite one. In his lecture on "The Transcendentalist,"

read in 1841, Mr. Emerson seems disposed to consider Transcendentalism

merely as a phase of idealism.

"Shall we say then that Transcendentalism is the Saturnalia or

excess of Faith; the presentiment of a faith proper to man in his

integrity, excessive only when his imperfect obedience hinders the

satisfaction of his wit. Nature is Transcendental, exists

primarily, necessarily, ever works and advances; yet takes no

thought for the morrow. Man owns the dignity of the life which

throbs around him in chemistry, and tree, and animal, and in the

involuntary functions of his own body; yet he is balked when he

tries to fling himself into this enchanted circle, where all is

done without degradation. Yet genius and virtue predict in man the

same absence of private ends, and of condescension to

circumstances, united with every trait and talent of beauty and

power."... "This way of thinking, falling on Roman times, made

stoic philosophers; falling on despotic times made patriot Catos

and Brutuses; falling on superstitious times, made prophets and

apostles; on popish times, made protestants and ascetic monks;

preachers of Faith against preachers of Works; on prelatical times,

made Puritans and Quakers; and falling on Unitarian and commercial

times, makes the peculiar shades of Idealism which we know."

It is audacious to criticize Mr. Emerson on a point like this; but

candor compels the remark that the above description does less than

justice to the definiteness of the transcendental movement. It was

something more than a reaction against formalism and tradition, though

it took that form. It was more than a reaction against Puritan

Orthodoxy, though in part it was that. It was in a very small degree due

to study of the ancient pantheists, of Plato and the Alexandrians, of

Plutarch, Seneca and Epictetus, though one or two of the leaders had

drunk deeply from these sources. Transcendentalism was a distinct

philosophical system. Practically it was an assertion of the inalienable

worth of man; theoretically it was an assertion of the immanence of

divinity in instinct, the transference of supernatural attributes to the

natural constitution of mankind.

Such a faith would necessarily be protean in its aspects. Philosopher,

Critic, Moralist, Poet, would give it voice according to cast of

genius. It would present in turn all the phases of idealism, and to the

outside spectator seem a mass of wild opinions; but running through all

was the belief in the Living God in the Soul, faith in immediate

inspiration, in boundless possibility, and in unimaginable good.

The editors and reviewers of its day could make nothing of it. The most

entertaining part of the present writer's task has been the reading of

articles on Transcendentalism in the contemporaneous magazines. The

reviewers were unable to resist the temptation to make themselves

ridiculous. The quarterlies and monthlies are before me, looking as if

they resented the exposure of their dusty and musty condition, and would

conceal if they could the baldness of their wit. It would be cruel to

exhume those antique judgments, so honest, yet so imbecile and so

mistaken. The doubts and misgivings, the bitternesses and the horrors,

the sinkings of heart and the revolvings of soul may be estimated by any

who will consult the numbers of the Christian Examiner, the Biblical

Repository, the Princeton Review, the New Englander, the Whig Review,

Knickerbocker, (Knickerbocker is especially facetious), but we advise

none to do it who would retain their respect for honorable names. The

writers, let us hope, did the best they knew, and it would be unkind to

expose the theological prejudice, the polemical acrimony, the narrowness

and flippancy they would have been ashamed of had they been aware of it.

A good example of the courteous kind of injustice may be found in the

Christian Examiner for January, 1837, in a review of "Nature" from the

pen of a Cambridge Professor, who writes in a kindly spirit and with an

honest intention to be fair to a movement with which he had no

intellectual sympathy:

"The aim of the Transcendentalists is high. They profess to look

not only beyond facts, but, without the aid of facts, to

principles. What is this but Plato's doctrine of innate, eternal

and immutable ideas on the consideration of which all science is

founded? Truly, the human mind advances but too often in a circle.

The New School has abandoned Bacon, only to go back and wander in

the groves of the Academy, and to bewilder themselves with the

dreams which first arose in the fervid imagination of the Greeks.

Without questioning the desirableness of this end, of considering

general truths without any previous examination of particulars, we

may well doubt the power of modern philosophers to attain it.

Again, they are busy in the enquiry (to adopt their own

phraseology) after the Real and Absolute, as distinguished from the

Apparent. Not to repeat the same doubt as to their success, we may

at least request them to beware lest they strip the truth of its

relation to Humanity, and thus deprive it of its usefulness."

We quote this passage not merely to show how inevitably the best

intentioned critics of Transcendentalism fell into sarcasm, nor to

illustrate the species of error into which the "Sensational" philosophy

betrayed even candid minds; but to call attention to another point,

namely, the general misconception of the practical aims and purposes of

the new school. It was a common prejudice that Transcendentalists were

visionaries and enthusiasts, who in pursuit of principles neglected

duties, and while seeking for The Real and The Absolute forgot the

actual and the relative. Macaulay puts the case strongly in his article

on Lord Bacon:

"To sum up the whole; we should say that the aim of the Platonic

philosophy was to exalt man into a God. The aim of the Baconian

philosophy was to provide man with what he requires while he

continues to be man. The aim of the Platonic philosophy was to

raise us far above vulgar wants. The aim of the Baconian philosophy

was to supply our wants. The former aim was noble; but the latter

was attainable. Plato drew a good bow; but, like Acestes in Virgil,

he aimed at the stars; and though there was no want of strength and

skill, the shot was thrown away. Bacon fixed his eye on a mark

which was placed on the earth, and within bow shot, and hit it in

the white. The philosophy of Plato began in words and ended in

words--noble words indeed; words such as were to be expected from

the finest of human intellects exercising boundless control over

the finest of human languages. The philosophy of Bacon began in

observations and ended in arts. The smallest actual good is better

than the most magnificent promises of impossibilities. The truth

is, that in those very matters for the sake of which they neglected

all the vulgar interests of mankind, the ancient philosophers did

nothing or worse than nothing--they promised what was

impracticable; they despised what was practicable; they filled the

world with long words and long beards; and they left it as wicked

and as ignorant as they found it."

Substitute Idealism for Platonism, and Transcendentalists for ancient

philosophers, and this expresses the judgment of "sensible men" of the

last generation, on Transcendentalism. It was not perceived that the

two schools of philosophy aimed at producing the same results, but by

different methods; that the "Sensationalist" worked up from beneath by

material processes, while the "Idealist" worked downward from above by

intellectual ones; that the former tried to push men up by mechanical

appliances, and the latter endeavored to draw them up by spiritual

attraction; that while the disciples of Bacon operated on man as if he

was a complex animal, a creature of nature and of circumstances, who was

borne along with the material progress of the planet, but had no

independent power of flight, the disciples of Kant and Fichte assumed

that man was a creative, recreative force, a being who had only to be

conscious of the capacities within him to shape circumstances according

to the pattern shown him on the Mount. The charge of shooting at stars

is puerile. The only use they would make of stars was to "hitch wagons"

to them. The Transcendentalists of New England were the most strenuous

workers of their day, and at the problems which the day flung down

before them. The most strenuous, and the most successful workers too.

They achieved more practical benefit for society, in proportion to their

numbers and the duration of their existence, than any body of Baconians

of whom we ever heard. Men and women are healthier in their bodies,

happier in their domestic and social relations, more contented in their

estate, more ambitious to enlarge their opportunities, more eager to

acquire knowledge, more kind and humane in their sympathies, more

reasonable in their expectations, than they would have been if Margaret

Fuller and Ralph Waldo Emerson and Theodore Parker and George Ripley and

Bronson Alcott, and the rest of their fellow believers and fellow

workers had not lived. It is the fashion of our generation to hold that

progress is, and must of necessity be, exceedingly gradual; and that no

safe advance is ever made except at snail's pace. But ever and anon the

mind of man refutes the notion by starting under the influence of a

thought, and leaping over long reaches of space at a bound.

Transcendentalism gave one of these demonstrations, sufficient to refute

the vulgar prejudice. Its brief history may have illustrated the truth

of Wordsworth's lines,

"That 'tis a thing impossible to frame

Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires;

And the most difficult of tasks to keep

Heights which the Soul is competent to gain."

The heights were gained nevertheless, and kept long enough for a view of

the land of promise; and ever since, though the ascent is a dim

recollection, and the great forms have come to look like images in

dreams, and the mighty voices are but ghostly echoes, men and women have

been happy in laboring for the heaven their fathers believed they saw.

VII.

PRACTICAL TENDENCIES.

Mr. Emerson--we find ourselves continually appealing to him as the

finest interpreter of the transcendental movement--made a confession

which its enemies were quick to seize on and turn to their purpose.

"It is a sign of our times, conspicuous to the coarsest observer,

that many intelligent and religious persons withdraw themselves

from the common labors and competitions of the market and the

caucus, and betake themselves to a certain solitary and critical

way of living, from which no solid fruit has yet appeared to

justify their separation. They hold themselves aloof; they feel the

disproportion between themselves and the work offered them, and

they prefer to ramble in the country and perish of ennui, to the

degradation of such charities and such ambitions as the city can

propose to them. They are striking work and crying out for somewhat

worthy to do. They are lonely; the spirit of their writing and

conversation is lonely; they repel influences; they shun general

society; they incline to shut themselves in their chamber in the

house; to live in the country rather than in the town; and to find

their tasks and amusements in solitude. They are not good citizens;

not good members of society; unwillingly they bear their part of

the public and private burdens; they do not willingly share in the

public charities, in the public religious rites, in the enterprises

of education, of missions, foreign or domestic, in the abolition of

the slave trade, or in the temperance society. They do not even

like to vote. The philanthropists inquire whether Transcendentalism

does not mean sloth; they had as lief hear that their friend is

dead as that he is a Transcendentalist; for then is he paralyzed,

and can do nothing for humanity."

This extreme statement must not be taken as either complete or

comprehensive. They who read it in the lecture on "The Transcendentalist"

must be careful to notice Mr. Emerson's qualifications, that

"this retirement does not proceed from any whim on the part of the

separators;" that "this part is chosen both from temperament and

from principle; with some unwillingness too, and as a choice of

the less of two evils;" "that they are joyous, susceptible,

affectionate;" that "they wish a just and even fellowship or none;" that

"what they do is done because they are overpowered by the humanities

that speak on all sides;" that "what you call your fundamental

institutions, your great and holy causes, seem to them great abuses,

and, when nearly seen, paltry matters." But even this apology does not

quite exonerate his friends.

Transcendentalism certainly did produce its share of idle, dreamy,

useless people--as "Sensationalism" produced its share of coarse,

greedy, low-lived and bestial ones. But its legitimate fruit was

earnestness, aspiration and enthusiastic energy.

We must begin with the philosophy of Man. The Transcendentalist claims

for all men as a natural endowment what "Evangelical" Christianity

ascribes to the few as a special gift of the Spirit. This faith comes

to expression continually. The numbers of the "Dial" are alight with

it.

"Man is a rudiment and embryon of God: Eternity shall develop in

him the Divine Image."

"The Soul works from centre to periphery, veiling her labors from

the ken of the senses."

"The sensible world is spirit in magnitude outspread before the

senses for their analysis, but whose synthesis is the soul herself,

whose prothesis is God."

"The time may come, in the endless career of the soul, when the

facts of incarnation, birth, death, descent into matter, and

ascension from it, shall comprise no part of her history; when she

herself shall survey this human life with emotions akin to those of

the naturalist on examining the relics of extinct races of beings."

"Of the perception now fast becoming a conscious fact,--that there

is one mind, and that also the powers and privileges which lie in

any, lie in all; that I, as a man, may claim and appropriate

whatever of true or fair or good or strong has anywhere been

exhibited; that Moses and Confucius, Montaigne and Leibnitz are not

so much individuals as they are parts of man and parts of me, and

my intelligence proves them my own,--literature is far the best

expression."

Thus Mr. Alcott and Mr. Emerson. Thomas T. Stone,--a modest, retiring,

deep and interior man, a child of the spiritual philosophy, which he

faithfully lived in and up to, and preached with singular fulness and

richness of power--makes his statement thus, in an article entitled "Man

in the Ages," contributed to the third number of the "Dial":

"Man is man, despite of all the lies which would convince him he is

not, despite of all the thoughts which would strive to unman him.

There is a spirit in man, an inspiration from the Almighty. What

is, is. The eternal is eternal; the temporary must pass it by,

leaving it to stand evermore. There is now, there has been always,

power among men to subdue the ages, to dethrone them, to make them

mere outgoings and servitors of man. It is needed only that we

assert our prerogative,--that man do with hearty faith affirm: 'I

am; in me being is. Ages, ye come and go; appear and disappear;

products, not life; vapors from the surface of the soul, not living

fountain. Ye are of me, for me, not I of you or for you. Not with

you my affinity, but with the Eternal. I am; I live; spirit I have

not; spirit am I.'"

Samuel D. Robbins, another earnest prophet of the spiritual man, utters

the creed again in the way peculiar to himself.

Transcendentalism in New England: A History · 第 9 / 26 段