THE SECOND DEVELOPMENT.
Two years of the experimental and "idyllic" life, ran rapidly away, and
the Community had gained something of position and name in the outward
world. Personal contact had modified the extreme views of many of the
founders. Changes had taken place in the Individuals composing it; some
had departed. Six of the original stockholders remained. The number had
increased to about seventy, including some thirty who were pupils. The
financial success had not been all that was desired. Everything else
was getting more settled. The social life was charming. Improvements in
material matters, in comforts, in discipline and in grace of manners
were visible. But what was to be developed next among all the things
desirable? Was it to push the school still further in progress, to
attach mechanical industries to the organization, to work up the farm
life into more prominence, or what?
It could not be expected that this large number of persons, whose early
surroundings and ideas had been so varied, could at once agree as to
what next steps were necessary to take, or to what definite end the
Community should be shaped. There was need, certainly, of some central
purpose strong enough for all to unite upon to inspire permanence.
Neither Mr. Ripley nor any of his co-workers had heard of Charles
Fourier--the French exponent of industrial association--or his
doctrines, unless in a most casual way, and certainly they had not
studied them when they started the Community. They were independent
workers in a field of social science; but when they became acquainted
with his ideas, especially his ideas of industry made attractive by
organized labor, and its relation to the higher standard of work and
liberal belief they had adopted and maintained thus far, their
enthusiasm was awakened for them and they resolved to graft some of his
formulas on their institution. The little Community, with its bright,
cheerful school and its happy members, was not paying its way. There
were philosophers enough in it. There were plenty of sweet, charming
characters and amateur workmen in it, but the hard-fisted toilers and
the brave financiers were absent.
Still, it was not entirely absence of financial success that led the
responsible men of the Community to make the change in the organization
that they did, but truly because the grand and reasonable ideas of the
distinguished Frenchman bore such internal evidences of harmony with
human nature and with God's providence and laws that they carried
conviction to the great and sympathetic minds of Brook Farm. Fourier
argued that there was a sublime destiny for mankind on this earth, that
the Creator was infinitely good, that all the instincts of our nature,
when not subverted by bad conditions, pointed towards that destiny, and
that humanity was on its way upward--that the past progress argued what
the future might be.
I give as illustrations, a few extracts from "The Social Destiny of
Man," by Albert Brisbane, page 269:--"Four societies have existed on
the earth--the savage, patriarchal, barbarian and civilized. Under
these general heads may be classed the various social forms through
which man has progressed up to the present day. _If four have existed
may not a fifth, or even a sixth, be discovered and organized?_ Common
sense would dictate that there could, although the world has
entertained a different opinion."
Page 293: "If the barbarian asserts that the lash is the only means of
forcing the slave to labor, the civilized is not far behind him in his
reasoning, for he will assert with equal confidence that necessity and
want are necessary stimulants to industry. The barbarian is as ignorant
of the levers which civilization puts in play as is the civilized of
the powerful incentives to action which the groups and series will call
forth."
Page 464: "If He [God] has not known how or has not wished to give us a
social code productive of justice, industrial attraction and passional
harmony;--_if he has not known how_, how could he have supposed our
weak reason would succeed in a task in which he himself doubted of
success? _If he has not wished_, how can our legislators hope to
organize a society which would lead to the results above mentioned, and
of which he wished to deprive us.... What motive could he have had to
refuse us such a code? Six views may be taken on the subject of this
omission.
"_First--either he has not known how_ to give us a social code
guaranteeing truth, justice and industrial attraction; in this case why
create in us the want of it, without having the means of satisfying
that want which he satisfies in creatures inferior to us, to which he
assigns a mode of existence adapted to their attractions and instincts:
"Second--_or he has not wished_ to give us this code; which thus
supposes the Creator to be the persecutor of mankind, creating in us
wants which it is impossible to satisfy, inasmuch as none of our codes
can extirpate our permanent scourges:
"Third--_or he has known how and has not wished_; in which case the
Creator becomes a malignant being, knowing how to do good, but
preferring the reign of evil:
"Fourth--_or he has wished and has not known how_; in this case he is
incapable of governing us, knowing and wishing the good which he cannot
realize, and which we still less can attain:
"Fifth--_or he has neither wished nor known how_; and we must attribute
to him both want of genius and evil intention:
"Sixth--_or he has known how and has wished_; in this case the code
exists, and he must have provided a mode for its revelation--for of
what use would it be if it were to remain hidden from men for whom it
is destined?"
Page 468: "If the human race were at the commencement of their social
career--in the first ages of civilization--they would perhaps be
excusable for founding some hope of social good upon human science,
upon the legislation of man; but long experience has proved the
impotency of human legislation, and shown clearly that the world has
nothing to hope from human laws and civilized constitutions."
Page 260: "Either the passions _are_ bad or the social mechanism _is
false_, for evil prevails, and to a melancholy extent. If the former be
true, then there is no hope of a better state of things, for every
means of repression and constraint that human ingenuity could invent
has been applied to regulate their action; but all in vain--they have
remained unchanged, and in the eyes of the moralist as perverse as
ever. If, however, the latter be true--that is, if the social mechanism
be false--then there is a chance for a better future; for our
incoherent and absurd societies are changing more or less with every
century. They are at the mercy or whim of a tyrant, or of a revolution
of the mass; they may therefore be reformed or done away with entirely."
These grand words and this powerful logic, if even too strong for some
of the readers of this book, were not so for the brave hearts of the
leaders of Brook Farm, and for Mr. Ripley in particular. The tentative
feeling, the search for science to back up the social impulses, seemed
at last to have found something solid in a society conceived by the
Creator; the man created by him, fitted to it by him; the society
fitted to the man; the one the counterpart of the other. Albert
Brisbane, Parke Godwin and Horace Greeley, with the _Tribune_, were
arousing the thinkers in New York; Gerritt Smith was agitating the land
question and giving away to actual settlers vast tracts of land owned
by him. The works of the communist Owen and others were read.
Antislavery, anti-war and non-resistance societies were vigorously
prosecuting their claims. It was an era of great social activity.
Thousands were aroused. "Communities," "Associations" and "Phalanxes"
were springing up in various quarters. It seemed that the tide of
change from social chaos to order was fast rising. A great wave of
reform was sweeping over the land. Should the Community moor itself
where it was, or be borne on with the flood?
This was the question of moment; and while the young danced or played,
acted in charade or masquerade, and the youths wove garlands of green
around their straw hats, and amused themselves by wearing long tresses
and tunics, the sedater heads were solving this important question. And
they must decide it, but first of all Mr. Ripley's wishes must be
consulted: the key to the situation was in his hands. What would he do?
Would he, and should they, take among them men and women endowed only
with practical, everyday talents, able to be honest and make shoes and
sew garments; to strike with a sledge and a blacksmith's arm; to be
adepts, maybe, in all the cares for the outward wants of the body, but
who had never read Goethe or Schiller, and, possibly, neither
Shakespeare, Scott nor Robert Burns; and might not care to read or
study Latin, French, German or philosophy! It was for Mr. Ripley to
decide.
Did he then think of the little church in Purchase Street, and of what
he had solemnly said to the listening congregation? Had he not told
them that in every soul was a divine fire that aspired to the right no
matter how deeply it had been covered from sight or buried by the
troubling cares and surroundings that environed it: that there was a
divine equality of spirit at the base of all human lives?
Did he not hear reverberating in his soul the sublime passage, "If I be
lifted up, I will lift all others up to me"? Had he not been lifted up?
Had he not been supremely blest with health, strength, education,
talent, friends, companionship with the great and his cup filled full
of the sweet and sublime accords of the Christian faith? Had he not
been lifted up, not in crucifixion, but by myriads of silent blessings,
and was it not Christ-like to aid in lifting all others up also?
Alas for those who speak of Mr. Ripley's action at this time as
"Ripley's fall"! These were the moments when he achieved his glory,
when the greatness of his character arose, almost without exception,
above all others of the Transcendental School, who hovered around, and
wished to claim him as a bright example of a man separated from the
common herd of humanity, as a leader of a select group of men and
women, cultivated intellectually and socially. Then, as before, when he
saw what he deemed right, or, rather, when the intuitions of his soul
told him his duty, he did not hesitate.
Soon he was practically deserted by Emerson and his coterie, by some of
the associates and pupils of the school, and boarders, who were scared
out of their propriety by the fear of losing social caste, and they
showed their disfavor by leaving him alone; but, intrenched as he was,
and surrounded by a multitude of friends, new and old, and many
secretly admiring his intrepid spirit, they could only vent their
disfavor in sly sneers and hints that Mr. Ripley, and, of course, his
followers with him, had fallen from their high estate. Yes, they who
sat near by on the fences and crowed reform the loudest--they who had
never soiled their ink-stained fingers with the grass-green sod of old
Brook Farm in practical example of work--found most fault with him,
because he chose to remain and risk his social standing still more than
he had already done, in his magnificent work and experiment.
In order to show more clearly some of the philosophy under which the
leaders of Brook Farm based the changes in their theories and
organization, let us pause a few moments to give a slight sketch of the
growth of human society from its primitive formation to the present
time, trusting that the time spent on it may not be unworthily used,
and the patience of those to whom these ideas are old is asked for the
benefit of others to whom they are new.
It is evident that, at some time, there was a beginning of social life.
To those who have full faith in the Mosaic record it was in the Garden
of Eden; but that may be considered as before society, as such, was
fairly begun. It was the very dawn of the childhood of our race. To
those who recognize the fact that the primitive man was a weak,
unskilled, uncultivated savage, the conclusion must come that the first
social life of the race was very crude; that men lived in trees or in
caves and rude huts, and that they formed societies or hordes for
protection from the huge and formidable wild animals that roamed the
uncultivated earth.
Upon the slain beasts, wild fruits and grains they existed. They hunted
and fished, and although the passions of friendship, love and ambition
implanted in their souls by their Creator shone out at times, at other
times they quarrelled like the brutes they slaughtered. This state of
crude society is named _savagism_.
But as the beasts became less formidable foes, and were much diminished
in numbers by being slain and possibly from other causes, it is
probable that at times the race suffered hunger, and finding that the
ground readily produced from seed, the primitive race or races began to
plant, and finding also that they had slain so many of the wild animals
that they could keep herds of cattle without great danger of their
destruction by them, the life of the herdsman began. But as the herds
began to be numerous, it was found necessary to travel with them in
order to give them new pasturage, and then the nomadic or wandering
life was fully installed.
With their cattle and their wives, and their limited knowledge of
cultivation, the patriarchal tribe moved from place to place; sometimes
to find water, sometimes to find pasture for their horses and cattle,
and at harvest time they returned to their fields to harvest the grain
which had been planted for all. This, as you see, describes crudely the
second state of society, which is the "_patriarchal_" state.
As population increased, the difficulty of constantly changing the
place of residence was more and more apparent; and as some arts had
sprung up, such as the manufacture of pottery, farming implements and
defensive weapons, which could not be equally well carried on in all
places, towns, and afterwards cities, sprang up, where the artisans
resided; and being often liable to marauders, especially when the
outside population or tribes were wandering away from them, they
enclosed them with walls. By industry some wealth was acquired; some
luxury and comparative splendor were introduced. Prominent and
naturally ambitious individuals and families raised themselves into
power, and, placing themselves at the head of armies, with the newest
weapons of war, made by their own hands, went forth to conquer. Thus
the third, or what is called the "_barbaric_" state was established.
Still moving on in the same direction, a great variety of class
distinction was made. Woman arose steadily from a condition of almost
hopeless slavery to be the one companion of man, and direct slavery of
man to man was abolished. Invention was stimulated, and means of
dissemination of knowledge, such as the printing press and the
university, came to light. Kings and princes reign by law, which is
fully established, and commerce and trade flourish. These things
inaugurate the advent of civilization; but perhaps the most marked
types of civilization are the _independence of the individual,
monogamic marriage_ and _free competition_. Thus was established the
fourth societary condition.
Society having progressed so far, and gone through so many changes, is
it reasonable that it must now stop at what we call "_civilization_" as
the _ultimatum_ of its progress? With a little thought it will be seen
how surely man has, through all these changes, emancipated himself from
physical surroundings until he stands forth free and independent, but
without, however, any positive relation or duty binding him to maintain
the independence of all the human brotherhood. His independence is for
himself alone, and in that relation he is forced by _conditions of his
surroundings_ to neglect and trespass on the rights of his fellow-man
to keep his individual supremacy, and to develop various promptings of
his soul, which are ofttimes good, great and noble.
In the early days of civilization, free competition develops the
resources of man. The prospect of wealth, and the power it brings with
it, encourages trade to seek the ends of the earth, and from its
products vast enterprises are built up. As every fruit has in it that
which causes its final dissolution, and within it also the germs of a
future and higher life, so civilized society carries in it the germs of
its decay and dissolution, society being a natural product, as fruit
is, of God's providence. _Free competition_ is the destructive agent,
or one of the most important agents in its dissolution. Observe that
the power which ripens a natural fruit causes, in the end, its
destruction. Observe also that free competition, which in the early
stages of civilization glorifies and typifies it, by continuing at its
work will finally destroy it.
There is another element which is called capital. In savage life there
is hardly anything which can be called capital. The amount of capital
depends on the wealth of the community. As society advances, wealth
increases; from savagism to civilization, from early civilization to
the present time. This wealth, this capital comes from the reserved
products of labor; "dried labor," it has been called, for labor is its
only source of production. This wealth belongs to the community that
has earned it, saved it and inherited it. It is the grand moving power
of society as it now stands, and without it we would return to the
savage state. Society can never be too wealthy, any more than it can be
too powerful, and the one is the synonym, to a great extent, of the
other.
But capital with interest, as the agent and assistant of competition,
is destructive. Capital joined with labor builds manufactories,
railroads, towns, and is the great moving power of civilization; but in
the growth of civilization vast amounts of it have accumulated, and
being unevenly distributed, there are those who are constantly seeking
its use to help them to business and to elevation, and have been ready
to pay a royalty, which we call interest, for the use of it. This has
made capital a commodity.
The progress of arts and inventions has been, in modern days, in such
increased ratio to the increase of capital that it has created so great
a demand that a monopoly has been made of it; more is paid for the use
of it than its real worth, so that wealth, even in this democratic
country, is piling up in colossal fortunes by being drawn from the
great body of society. Consequently, classes of people grow relatively
poorer as fast as other bodies of people or individuals grow richer;
the extremes of riches and poverty constantly increasing.
Every advance in the producing capacity of machinery gives organized
capital a better hold on labor, because capital owns the machinery,
and, in homely phrase, labor "is the under dog in the fight" all of the
time. It makes no practical difference to it whether the laborer
becomes capitalist or no, for the moment he becomes so he is engaged in
the same crusade. He is no better nor worse than the one whom we called
capitalist yesterday. It is the _unnatural position_ or _relation_ of
_capital and labor_ that makes him what he is. To change this relation
to a more just one was among the grandest ideas of the Brook Farmers,
and the only way it could possibly be done, in their estimation, was by
reorganizing society on a new basis; by combining the capital of the
workers and others interested and using it so as finally to control
machinery for the benefit of labor, and to reduce its hours of toil so
that the laborer could have time for self-improvement.
Having traced the progress of society from its earliest forms to our
present civilization, it can be easily shown how the supreme or
governing power is first in the hands of the most powerful physically;
then passes to the one most able by prowess to sway a tribe or people;
then passes into the hierarchy of the church, that rules by swaying
mental terrors; next into the hierarchy of the state, that rules by
both mental and physical terrors; and, in our present civilization, has
passed or is passing rapidly into the hands of a moneyed class ruling
with powers according to the amount of capital swayed; and it can be
proved that these changes are but the natural result of forces that are
as sure and constant as sunlight and electricity.
This present form of social power, it is argued, is transient, and like
the others, will pass away and be replaced, and can only be replaced by
anarchy, or by a hierarchy of organized talent arranged in serial order
from the most talented down to the humblest laborer, and this was
another of the grand ideas of the Brook Farmers. From the seeds of this
civilization will spring--is springing--a higher order. It is an order
that the teacher Fourier called "_guaranteeism_." It is an order in
which the _governing power_ passes from the moneyed aristocracy into
the hands of _organized bodies_. It is an order in which the spiritual
and material truths are incorporated into organic societies and
governments which guarantee to everyone support in sickness and
protection from dangers of various sorts; an order which, in fact,
abounds in mutual guarantees covering by degrees all the numerous
necessities and wants of life--hence its name; and finally, in the
process of time, placing all the material wants of the people under
protective guarantees.
This fifth condition of society must pass into the sixth order, which
is the _associative order_, or the coöperative phase of society in
which it will be proven by practical works that, by adherence to
principles and proper organizations, we may avoid a large share of the
miseries we have in the past so unsparingly laid to the charge of the
Deity as discipline for us, but which are the results of our own
ignorance. The "_harmonic order_" is associated life of a high type,
and includes association of families, economy of means, unity of
interests, labor made attractive, equitable distribution of profits,
integral justice, etc., in such a way as to bring about very great
happiness among _all_ people, thus deserving its grand name. From the
commencement of the age of harmony, which is a higher octave of life,
society begins a new era, the beauties and accords of which no one can
do more than speculate upon.
This sketch of the progress of the human race may seem trite to many
readers. It may have a familiar sound, but it is necessary to our
narrative. It was promulgated many years before our modern writers came
into the field with their evolutionary theories, and it is at least a
theoretic base for social scientists to build their hopes of present
and future progress on. To the Brook Farm leaders it was new; it was
sensible; it was reasonable. Communism they did not favor, for their
motto was, "Community of property is the grave of individual liberty."
Instinctively they rebelled against it.
The organized communities held everything in common--houses, lands,
moneys and goods; even prescribing what garments should be worn, and
also electing a religious creed for their members. It was not
compatible with the greater ideas of freedom held at Brook Farm. It was
not a free life and it could not be a true life, for they all believed
in the motto, "The _truth_ shall make you _free_," and instead of
freedom, the "Communities" used mental constraint and tyranny to hold
themselves together.
The Brook Farmers believed that the laborer owned the value of his
labor; if it was used, it was credited to him, and a part of the
increased value of the domain belonged to him. It never belonged to the
organization;--that is, the value of it--but by mutual consent might be
retained, invested and added to the laborer's stock. Theoretically the
result would show that the person who was the most capable, active and
industrious would in time own the most accrued capital. This the Brook
Farmers claimed was right and according to nature, and, combined with
_yearly diminishing interest_, could not be destructive, as capital is
now.
They had fallen unwittingly, it may be said, on ideas that coincided
with those of Charles Fourier. There was an agreement between them,
unknown at the start. Their idea that certain mutual guarantees were to
be in the constitution, such as immunity from labor in extreme age and
youth, care in sickness--a certain "minimum" of rights according to the
prosperity or wealth of the institution--and that an "integral
education" was a duty of the Association--an education not of the mind
alone, but of the hands, heart and affections--coincided exactly with
Fourier, and it was easy to adopt his motto of "_coöperative labor_,"
for they had already adopted the principle; also "_association of
families_," for that had been agreed on. It was easy to adopt his
formula of "_honors according to usefulness_"; they believed in it.
Usefulness, not wealth, station or any artificial distinction, was to
receive the highest rank and the greatest honors and favors from the
body politic. It might be an invention of the mind; it might be some
Herculean or disagreeable labor of the body, or it might be some
enthusiasm imparted from some brilliant soul, that would win the honor;
but it could be given to none except those who had won it by superior
usefulness, whether that usefulness came from doing the work in the
"sacred legion"--who were a body of persons who did unattractive work
from a sense of duty--or in any other body or group.
It was easy to adopt "_attractive industry_," another of Fourier's
mottoes, for were they not trying mind and body to make it so? And
finally, it was easy to adopt the aphorism that the attractions of life
in the universe are in proportion to the destinies they assist in
accomplishing--"_attractions are proportionate to destinies_," as it is
translated. Certainly it was simple and easy to grasp and believe, when
explained so well as it had been by Fourier, and by Brisbane and
Godwin, his American translators. And lastly, if all these things were
true, why not say so and adopt them? They were outside and free from
modern society. They had one of their own. They were happy in it. They
had adopted truth as their guide--truth as they saw it, and whenever
and wherever they saw it.
Thus closed the first chapter in the history of this little society.
They had gathered together without any idea of scientific organization,
but from profound convictions of the present wrong relations of the
human brotherhood, from religious convictions of duty, and in the
belief that they would increase in love to one another, and draw to
themselves by their example the good and wise; believing also that if
they planted the seeds of truth and unity they would be watered with
deeds of faith, and by degrees overtop and destroy the evil undergrowth
that abounded in the so-called civilization all around them.
Now came to the leaders a new revelation! It was of science applied to
society. Mr. Ripley had great faith in scientific agriculture. Was
there to be science applied to society? Was it true that the actual
laws applicable to social life had been discovered? Were they immutable
as the laws of earthly bodies--of the sun, the stars and the universe?
And did they actually agree with the laws of music, color and
mathematics? It seemed so. They could but try them. And with a faith
for which, during all these succeeding years, they have been, laughed
at by cynical philosophers, they went to work to apply them, as far as
possible, to the actual life they were then leading. All honor to them!
When the resolution was finally taken to join with the movements that
seemed to be, as it were, a new impulse for humanity's sake--an
outpouring of spirit upon the children of men, instanced by the very
great and sudden interest taken by numerous bodies, societies and
individuals along the line of social reform--it was not entirely
palatable to all who had looked on the little Community as their pet
property, their ideal home; for the sainted individualists, for
cultivated book-worms, for theorists who could read Latin and Greek but
whose ideas of labor extended only to planting flowers or washing with
care a few muslins to adorn their beautiful selves; and fearing a loss
of selectness some departed. The motive extended to the school, and,
although many of the former pupils left, their places were soon filled
by others.
The responsible men looked at the matter from another standpoint. They
felt that the labor on the farm had been the least success of anything,
and that to organize and improve it was one thing important, if not
_the_ one thing needful. Many good men stood at the outer gates waiting
for entrance. The members of the "Direction" were firm, and brave. They
felt that the experience of the first two years was a permanent
advantage to them, and they reorganized under the same name as before.
With the new constitution was published a preliminary statement from
which the following is extracted:--
"All persons who are not familiar with the purposes of Association,
will understand from this document that we propose a radical and
universal reform rather than to redress any particular wrong, or to
remove the sufferings of any single class of human beings. We do this
in the light of universal principles in which all differences, whether
of religion, or politics, or philosophy, are reconciled, and the
dearest and most private hope of every man has the promise of
fulfilment. Herein, let it be understood, we would remove nothing that
is truly beautiful or venerable; we reverence the religious sentiment
in all its forms, the family and whatever else has its foundation
either in human nature or Divine Providence. The work we are engaged in
is not destruction, but true conservation; it is not a mere resolution,
but, as we are assured, a necessary step in the progress which no one
can be blind enough to think has yet reached its limit.
"We believe that humanity, trained by these long centuries of suffering
and struggle, led on by so many saints and heroes and sages, is at
length prepared to enter into that universal order toward which it has
perpetually moved. Thus we recognize the worth of the whole past, and
of every doctrine and institution it has bequeathed us; thus also we
perceive that the present has its own high mission, and we shall only
say what is beginning to be seen by all sincere thinkers, when we
declare that the imperative duty of this time and this country, nay,
more, that its only salvation and the salvation of civilized countries,
lies in the reorganization of society according to the unchanging laws
of human nature, and of universal harmony.
"We look, then, to the generous and helpful of all classes for
sympathy, for encouragement and for actual aid; not to ourselves only,
but to all who are engaged in this great work. And whatever may be the
result of any special efforts, we can never doubt that the object we
have in view will be finally attained; that human life shall yet be
developed, not in discord and misery, but in harmony and joy, and that
the perfected earth shall at last bear on her bosom a race of men
worthy of the name."
[_Signed by the Directors_.] GEORGE RIPLEY. MINOT PRATT. CHARLES A.
DANA.
Brook Farm, Mass., Jan. 18, 1844.
This constitution was largely like the first one, but varied from it in
the following particulars:--
"The department of Industry shall be managed in groups and series as
far as is practicable, and shall consist of three primary series, to
wit: Agricultural, Mechanical and Domestic Industry. The chief of each
group to be elected weekly, and the chief of each series once in two
months by the members thereof, subject to the approval of the General
Direction."
"Persons wishing to become members must first reside on the place as
applicants for one month."
"Applicants who have passed acceptably through their term may become
candidates, and remain in this new relation a month more, when they may
be admitted as Associates."
"Personal property may be received as stock by the Direction of Finance
when it shall be deemed advantageous to the Association."
"Persons shall, on becoming residents on the domain, deliver an exact
inventory of all the furniture and implements which they may retain as
private property, to be filed for reference in the office of the
Direction."
"New groups and series may be formed from time to time for the
prosecution of different and new branches of industry."
"Three hundred days shall be considered a year's labor. The hours of
labor shall be from the first of October to the first of April at least
eight hours daily, and from the first of April to the first of October
at least ten hours daily, and no person shall be credited for labor
beyond that time."
"No debt shall be contracted in behalf of the Association by any person
whatever."
"Articles furnished to the Associates shall be charged at cost as
nearly as the same can be ascertained."
"The period of education shall extend from birth to the age of twenty
years, and shall be divided into three stages: Infancy to six years,
Pupilage from six to sixteen years, and Probation from sixteen to
twenty. The education during probation shall be in the practical duties
of Associates."
"No public meeting for business or amusement shall be protracted beyond
the hour of ten P. M."
* * * * *
Many persons who have heard of the Community life at Brook Farm have
idealized it into a little coterie of choice spirits who sat around the
study lamp at early eve, after the light toil of the day had ceased,
and discussed the intellectual problems of the German philosophers who
had given much of the impulse to the Transcendental Club, and brought
so many young men forward as leaders of thought; but this was only
partially true.
Mr. Ripley at first endeavored to instruct the assembly and impart to
them some of his own intellectual enthusiasm. Evening classes were
formed; readings took place from some of the prominent poets--Goethe,
Schiller, Shakespeare; from Carlyle and Cousin as well as Emanuel Kant;
but when the industrial period began, he had more than his hands full,
and he laid his books on the shelf. They were his tools--they were the
ladders on which he had mounted to his high estate. Why should he
worship them? They had taught him, as had the Hebrew writers, faith in
the Creator; faith in His best creation, man; faith in reason, faith in
right, faith, in a magnificent human destiny. Why should he spend his
life in singing praises of them? To work! To begin to shape society to
higher ends! That was indeed the worthiest end in life, and his
worthiest homage to the writers and their books.