THE FIRST BREAK.
I do not know when or where it was first announced, but the
announcement came like a clap of thunder from a clear sky. Some one was
going to leave us! Who? Was it the "Archon" or the "Professor"?
Certainly this was not expected; but would it be strange if some of the
leaders, feeling too much the pressure and the burden of the financial
and executive business of the society, should grow weary, depart, and
leave their places unfilled forever? Was it any one of the grumblers or
the known discontented or disconcerted ones? No, it was no less than
Peter, the "General"! Why, if the elm tree in the yard of the Hive had
walked off in the night it would not have caused more talk or greater
consternation. Could it be possible?
From that day to this I have wondered how that man could have had such
a hold on our hearts. There was not a handsome feature in him. He had a
large but uneven forehead. His eyes were small, grayish-blue and
deepset. His nose was homely, his teeth were discolored, and he was
ungainly and awkward. His best feature was his height, but he stooped
in his shoulders, and his dress when about his work was of the plainest
description. His baize jacket and slipshod shoes did not become him.
Ever since then I have believed in the effect of virtue and kindness.
He was a living sermon--nay, a hundred sermons to me. He was "patient,
long-suffering and kind."
A spontaneous regret came from all. Some of the women, who certainly
could not be accused of any amatory love for him, shed tears to think
that he should go, for he was full of kindness to them. Constantly in
contact with their department, he was as gentle as a child, never
complaining and yet full of work. Industrious as the day was long, he
seemed so like a portion of the very atmosphere of the house, and of
the life, that it did not seem that he could be away and the
Association be as it was.
The _morale_ to the fact of the General's departure also disturbed our
people. He was discouraged at the attempt at realization of the new
order at Brook Farm. As long as all clung together there seemed to be
hope; but the first break was dangerous to our well-being, dangerous to
our existence.
Mr. Dwight had gone to New York to deliver lectures on music. When he
went away all was enthusiasm, all was harmony. The great loss by fire
had shaken no one's faith in the principles or the organization, and as
yet the balance of probabilities had not been made or adjusted in men's
minds. The word was then to go on at all cost. When he returned he
found discussion of means, doubts and fears, uppermost everywhere. As a
truth the Association had not prospered financially. Beginning with no
real capital, and mortgaged to the debts of the former "Community," it
had come to a point where without more means or more money in ready
cash it was very difficult to see how it could go on.
The change of social atmosphere in so short a time grated on the
sensitive soul of the man of music, and it was my fortune to be present
at a general meeting of all the Association where I heard his remarks.
He began by stating, as I have done, that when he went away all was
harmony and peace. All seemed united by bonds deep and strong; by a
common purpose and for a common end. We were all striving for a worthy
object, a higher, nobler life than that which surrounded us.
He had been away from this quiet, cheerful, peaceful and just life,
among the noise, dust and discord of a great, unwieldy city, and when
there he had looked forward to his coming home to this devoted little
band with the greatest possible pleasure. He had expected to find them
as harmonious and as united as when he left. He trod the precious soil
and found all external things glowing in beauty. He mounted the hill,
and there came two beautiful white doves flying close to him as he
walked on, circling around and around his head and seeming to rejoice
in his coming. He regarded it as a symbol of the unity and peace that
were with us, as well as a token of welcome.
But when he came to talk with the members, all was doubt, all was
distrust. What could it mean? It filled his heart with sad forebodings!
Why could we not be as before? Why doubt? why distrust? why not push
on? Certainly there would be a way opened for us! It could not be that
the years of devotion to one another and to this just cause and just
life could end thus! And in pleading tones born out of the depths of
his heart, and living sentences to which I can do no manner of justice,
he waxed eloquent, and all could not but be touched and moved with his
words.
How beautiful it is in looking back to this time, when coming events
were casting their sad shadows before them, to think that no one took
the opposite side, and that none among all the number argued before us
that we had met with a miserable failure; that no one was ready with a
rude word to break the bonds of friendship and to use his eloquence to
destroy our habit of life, our trust in one another, our faith in God
and the eternal justice of His providence, or to hasten in any way the
disruption of the institution; and that in those trying hours the
strong ties of friendship, love and daily communion were uppermost. All
felt that we wished to keep on with our labor, and that Mr. Dwight only
spoke the wishes of all hearts. But the inevitable mathematics of
finance were against us.
The "Poet," as the young folks called Mr. Dwight, wished that we could
manage it somehow, in some manner. He himself would go away. He would
go where his services could command higher fees. He would give them to
the Association for the privilege only of being sometimes on the
domain, and finding there others whom he loved, working still for their
sublime purposes.
These well-expressed desires, though availing nothing in the way of
adding money to the treasury, stimulated the hearts anew to good
fellowship, and helped to keep up the activity of the place to the
last. It seems a wonder to me that, in spite of all the changes that
took place after this time, as one and another departed, the industry
of the place was still kept in decent working order.
It was on the third of March that the fire took place, and the spring
and summer were fast passing away; the beautiful summer--beautiful ever
with its fields of waving grass and its wild flowers, its sunlight and
moonlight glow, its varied charms of growth and verdure; especially
beautiful to us, the young, who watched one another's countenances
glowing with health, innocence and pleasure; who clasped hands together
and danced with nimble feet; and saw the lithe young forms grow fairer
and more womanly and more manly. With the frank outpourings of
friendship and confidence; with the lavishness of mutual praise in
youth, we enjoyed and joined in merry badinage, in miffs and flattery.
The starry nights echoed our young voices singing in the clear air.
There was a burden of care taken from us, for was not the Association
our god-father? Had it not also taken from our parents the dread
anxieties that fall to most of common lot? And while we were there we
would be happy, and when the Association broke up, if it ever did,
would we not unite somewhere again?
Certainly I never heard any one of us doubt, whether young or old, gray
of beard or smooth of face, that associated life and doctrines would
succeed: of this I am sure. We reasoned that if Brook Farm Association
failed, some other would not. Some new ones would be formed. The
partings were all temporary; and when we parted, it was with cheerful
hearts. It was like the going forth of a family in the morning to meet
again in the evening; no sad farewells, no heart-breakings.
In a few years all of those engaged in this most interesting experiment
will be gathered to their fathers. No one may ever write as consecutive
a story of the farm life as I have done; and, with the much that is
superficial in my narrative, let me add my convictions of the leading
men and women in this movement. They were, in the highest sense,
Christians--not technically bound to creeds, but their hearts and
intellects were filled to overflowing with the good precepts that are
proclaimed as the foundation, aside from technical beliefs, of the
Christian doctrine; to love their neighbors as themselves; to do good
to all; to seek first righteousness in life; to uphold honesty and
honest dealing in _all_ earthly relations; to do unto others as we
would they should do unto us; to teach honor to parents; to make all
men love one another; to inspire a trust in God as a provident Father
who stands ready to reconcile all conflicts, with the way open and
plain for us, thus doing away with infidelity, unbelief, narrowness of
mind and spirit.
The doctrine they taught above all others was the _solidarity of the
race_. This was ever repeated. It was their religion that the human
race was one creation, bound together by indissoluble ties, links
stronger than iron and unbreakable. It was one body. It should be of
one heart, one brain, one purpose. Whenever one of its members suffered
all suffered. When there was a criminal all had part in his crime; when
there was a debauchee, all partook in his debasement; when there was
one diseased all were affected by it; when one was poor, all bore some
of the sting of his poverty. If any one took shelter behind his
possessions, wretchedness, poverty and disease found him out.
Ever is Lazarus at the king's gate haunting him, and he cannot avoid
it. At his banquets the ghosts of the wronged appear to him.
Hollow-eyed women and children point the finger of scorn at him, and
phantoms in his dreams shriek out at him, "Where is thy brother?" And
he has no excuse but the cowardly question, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
His children inherit the emanations from his cowardly soul and will not
rise up to call him blessed. His mind is not at ease, because the
atmosphere of envy is all around him; he knows _he_ is the cause of
evil thoughts, and that he holds his position by keeping comfort away
from many around him, and his fine surroundings become to him as tinsel
and dross. Dyspepsia, _ennui_ and weariness of spirit claim him. He is
a poverty-haunted coward, ashamed that he is so; and, saddest of all,
he is not a Christian. He does not believe that if he seeks the kingdom
of God, which means only to do aright, all things of material beauty
will be added to him, purifying, comforting, sustaining him,
strengthening him, glorifying him beyond his present power to dream of.
But the Brook Farmers did. They believed that the Infinite Power
ordained social laws so universal and equitable that the fulfilment of
them would make all unqualifiedly happy, and that it is the mission of
this race of beings to be attached to this earth, to this universe,
until their happy human destiny is accomplished, which destiny must be
for _all_, otherwise the Infinite would be partially and not wholly
good and just.
I do not say that all men are conscious of this as I have pictured it;
but the burdens are lying heavily on their souls and bodies, and they
can be truly happy only when they are taken off from them. Human nature
is too buoyant, too elastic, to be conscious of their pressure all of
the time; but often, in every soul, is the keen perception that there
must be an accounting somewhere, sometime, for all the injustice and
wrong done to any one and to every one, and it brings the "dread
hereafter" uncomfortably close to their daily lives.
It is too early yet to judge of the result of the work of the Brook
Farm socialists. They were progressively ahead of their race. They
lived before their time. They existed in the future as well as in the
present and the future will be their judge; but these are my
conclusions justified by actual contact, seeing these men and women
under every variety of circumstances of daily life, for the full two
and a half years of my actual sojourn at the Farm. The high ideal they
carried as their standard lifted them over many of the littlenesses and
annoyances of daily life without a disturbing thought.
I find in the _Harbinger_ of December 20, 1845, one of the very few
special allusions to Brook Farm life, and it is so much to the point
that I copy it entire:--
"We speak no less for the whole associative movement in this country
than for ourselves when we beseech our friends who are looking upon our
operations not to judge of our principles or our purposes by any
immediate results which they may have witnessed. The question is often
asked of us whether our present mode of life answers our
expectations--whether Association is found to be valuable in practice
as it seems to be correct in theory, and the like. But all such
inquiries betray an ignorance of the actual condition of the
enterprise. They suppose the organizations which have gone into effect
in different parts of the country are true specimens of the plans of
Association. This is far from being the case. We do not profess to be
able to present a true picture of associative life. We cannot give the
remotest idea of the advantages which the combined order possesses over
the ordinary arrangements of society.
"The benefits we now actually enjoy are of another character. The life
we now lead, though, to a hasty and superficial observer surrounded
with so great imperfections and embarrassments, is far superior to what
we have been able to attain under the most favorable circumstances in
civilization. There is a freedom from the frivolities of fashion, from
arbitrary restrictions, and from the frenzy of competition: we meet our
fellow-men in more hearty, sincere and genial relations; kindred
spirits are not separated by artificial conventional barriers; there is
more personal independence and a wider sphere for its exercise; the
soul is warmed in the sunshine of a true social equality; we are not
brought into the rough and disgusting contact with uncongenial persons
which is such a genuine source of misery in the common intercourse of
society; there is a greater variety, of employment, a more constant
demand for the exertion of all the faculties, and a more exquisite
pleasure in effort, from the consciousness that we are not working for
personal ends, but for a holy principle.
"And even the external sacrifices, which the pioneers in every
enterprise are obliged to make, are not without a sort of romantic
charm, which effectually prevents us from enjoying the luxuries of
Egypt, though we should be blessed with neither the manna nor the
quails which once cheered a table in the desert So that for ourselves
we have reason to be content. We are conscious of a happiness we never
knew until we embarked in this career. A new strength is given to our
arms, a new fire enkindles our souls.
"But great as may be our satisfactions of this nature, they do not
proceed from the actual application of associative principles to
outward arrangements. The time has not yet come for that. The means
have not been brought together to attempt the realization of the
associative theory, even on the humblest scale. At present, then, we
are only preparing the way for a better order; we are gathering
materials that we hope one day we may use with effect; if otherwise,
they will not be lost; they will help those who come after us, and
accomplish what they were intended for in the designs of Providence. No
association as yet has the number of persons, or the amount of capital,
to make a fair experiment of the principles of attractive industry.
They are all deficient in material resources, in edifices, in
machinery, and, above all, in floating capital; and although in their
present state they may prove a blessing to the individuals concerned in
them, such as the whole earth has not to give, they are not prepared to
exhibit that demonstration of the superior benefits of associative life
which will at once introduce a new era and install humanity in the
position for which it was created.
"But, brothers, patience and hope! We know what we are working for, we
know that the truth of God is on our side, that he has no attributes
that can favor the existing order of fraud, oppression, carnage and
consequent wretchedness. We may be sure of the triumph of our cause.
The grass may grow over our graves before it will be accomplished; but
as certain as God reigns, will the dominion of justice and truth be
established in the order of society. Every plant which the Heavenly
Father has not planted will be plucked up, and the earth will yet
rejoice in the greenness and beauty of the garden of God."
These are George Ripley's words. Could any one add a word to improve
these splendid paragraphs!