{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_38907/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_38907","id":"gutenberg_38907","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38907","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - American","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Transcendentalism (New England)"],"text":"Produced by Charlene Taylor, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe,\nCathy Maxam, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team\nat https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n_Engd by H. B. Hall_\n\n(signature O. B. Frothingham)\n\nG. P. Putnam's Sons, New York.]\n\n\n\n\n  TRANSCENDENTALISM\n\n  IN\n\n  NEW ENGLAND\n\n\n  _A HISTORY_\n\n\n  BY\n\n  OCTAVIUS BROOKS FROTHINGHAM\n\n  _Author of \"Life of Theodore Parker,\" \"Religion of Humanity,\" &c., &c._\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  NEW YORK\n  G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS\n  182 FIFTH AVENUE\n  1876\n\n  COPYRIGHT,\n  G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS.\n  1876.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                         PAGE\n\n  CONTENTS       iii\n\n  PREFACE      v\n\n  I.\n\n  BEGINNINGS IN GERMANY      1\n\n  II.\n\n  TRANSCENDENTALISM IN GERMANY--KANT, JACOBI, FICHTE, etc.      14\n\n  III.\n\n  THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE--SCHLEIERMACHER, GOETHE, RICHTER, etc.      47\n\n  IV.\n\n  TRANSCENDENTALISM IN FRANCE--COUSIN, CONSTANT, JOUFFROY, etc.      60\n\n  V.\n\n  TRANSCENDENTALISM IN ENGLAND--COLERIDGE, CARLYLE, WORDSWORTH      76\n\n  VI.\n\n  TRANSCENDENTALISM IN NEW ENGLAND      105\n\n  VII.\n\n  PRACTICAL TENDENCIES      142\n\n  VIII.\n\n  RELIGIOUS TENDENCIES      185\n\n  IX.\n\n  THE SEER--EMERSON      218\n\n  X.\n\n  THE MYSTIC--ALCOTT      249\n\n  XI.\n\n  THE CRITIC--MARGARET FULLER      284\n\n  XII.\n\n  THE PREACHER--THEODORE PARKER      302\n\n  XIII.\n\n  THE MAN OF LETTERS--GEORGE RIPLEY      322\n\n  XIV.\n\n  MINOR PROPHETS      335\n\n  XV.\n\n  LITERATURE      357\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nWhile we are gathering up for exhibition before other nations, the\nresults of a century of American life, with a purpose to show the issues\nthus far of our experiment in free institutions, it is fitting that some\nreport should be made of the influences that have shaped the national\nmind, and determined in any important degree or respect its intellectual\nand moral character. A well-considered account of these influences would\nbe of very great value to the student of history, the statesman and\nphilosopher, not merely as throwing light on our own social problem, but\nas illustrating the general law of human progress. This book is offered\nas a modest contribution to that knowledge.\n\nTranscendentalism, as it is called, the transcendental movement, was an\nimportant factor in American life. Though local in activity, limited in\nscope, brief in duration, engaging but a comparatively small number of\nindividuals, and passing over the upper regions of the mind, it left a\nbroad and deep trace on ideas and institutions. It affected thinkers,\nswayed politicians, guided moralists, inspired philanthropists, created\nreformers. The moral enthusiasm of the last generation, which broke out\nwith such prodigious power in the holy war against slavery; which\nuttered such earnest protests against capital punishment, and the wrongs\ninflicted on women; which made such passionate pleading in behalf of the\nweak, the injured, the disfranchised of every race and condition; which\nexalted humanity above institutions, and proclaimed the inherent worth\nof man,--owed, in larger measure than is suspected, its glow and force\nto the Transcendentalists. This, as a fact of history, must be admitted,\nas well by those who judge the movement unfavorably, as by its friends.\nIn the view of history, which is concerned with causes and effects in\ntheir large human relations, individual opinions on them are of small\nmoment. It was once the fashion--and still in some quarters it is the\nfashion--to laugh at Transcendentalism as an incomprehensible folly, and\nto call Transcendentalists visionaries. To admit that they were, would\nnot alter the fact that they exerted an influence on their generation.\nIt is usual with critics of a cold, unsympathetic, cynical cast, to\nspeak of Transcendentalism as a form of sentimentality, and of\nTranscendentalists as sentimentalists; to decry enthusiasm, and\ndeprecate the mischievous effects of feeling on the discussion of social\nquestions. But their disapproval, however just and wholesome, does not\nabolish the trace which moral enthusiasm, under whatever name these\njudges may please to put upon it, has left on the social life of the\npeople. Whether the impression was for evil or for good, it is there,\nand equally significant for warning or for commendation.\n\nAs a form of mental philosophy Transcendentalism may have had its day;\nat any rate, it is no longer in the ascendant, and at present is\nmanifestly on the decline, being suppressed by the philosophy of\nexperience, which, under different names, is taking possession of the\nspeculative world. But neither has this consideration weight in deciding\nits value as an element in progress. An unsound system requires as\naccurate a description and as severe an analysis as a sound one; and no\nspeculative prejudice should interfere with the most candid\nacknowledgment of its importance. Error is not disarmed or disenchanted\nby caricature or neglect.\n\nTo those who may object that the writer has too freely indulged his own\nprejudices in favor of Transcendentalism and the Transcendentalists, and\nhas transgressed his own rules by writing a eulogy instead of a history,\nhe would reply, that in his belief every system is best understood when\nstudied sympathetically, and is most fairly interpreted from the inside.\nWe can know its purposes only from its friends, and we can do justice to\nits friends only when we accept their own account of their beliefs and\naims. Renan somewhere says, that in order to judge a faith one must have\nconfessed it and abandoned it. Such a rule supposes sincerity in the\nconfession and honesty in the withdrawal; but with this qualification\nits reasonableness is easily admitted. If the result of such a verdict\nprove more favorable than the polemic would give, and more cordial than\nthe critic approves, it may not be the less just for that.\n\nThe writer was once a pure Transcendentalist, a warm sympathizer with\ntranscendental aspirations, and an ardent admirer of transcendental\nteachers. His ardor may have cooled; his faith may have been modified;\nlater studies and meditations may have commended to him other ideas and\nmethods; but he still retains enough of his former faith to enable him\nto do it justice. His purpose has been to write a history; not a\ncritical or philosophical history, but simply a history; to present his\nsubject with the smallest possible admixture of discussion, either in\ndefence or opposition. He has, therefore, avoided the metaphysics of his\ntheme, by presenting cardinal ideas in the simplest statement he could\ncommand, and omitting the details that would only cumber a narrative.\nSufficient references are given for the direction of students who may\nwish to become more intimately acquainted with the transcendental\nphilosophy, but an exhaustive survey of the speculative field has not\nbeen attempted. This book has but one purpose--to define the fundamental\nideas of the philosophy, to trace them to their historical and\nspeculative sources, and to show whither they tended. If he has done\nthis inadequately, it will be disclosed; he has done it honestly, and as\nwell as he could. In a little while it will be difficult to do it at\nall; for the disciples, one by one, are falling asleep; the literary\nremains are becoming few and scarce; the materials are disappearing\nbeneath the rapid accumulations of thought; the new order is thrusting\nthe old into the background; and in the course of a few years, even they\nwho can tell the story feelingly will have passed away. The author,\nwhose task was gladly accepted, though not voluntarily chosen, ventures\nto hope, that if it has not been done as well as another might have done\nit, it has not been done so ill that others will wish he had left it\nuntouched.\n\nO. B. F.\n\nNEW YORK, April 12, 1876.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nBEGINNINGS IN GERMANY.\n\n\nTo make intelligible the Transcendental Philosophy of the last\ngeneration in New England it is not necessary to go far back into the\nhistory of thought. Ancient idealism, whether Eastern or Western, may be\nleft undisturbed. Platonism and neo-Platonism may be excused from\nfurther tortures on the witness stand. The speculations of the mystics,\nRomanist or Protestant, need not be re-examined. The idealism of Gale,\nMore, Pordage, of Cudworth and the later Berkeley, in England, do not\nimmediately concern us. We need not even submit John Locke to fresh\ncross-examination, or describe the effect of his writings on the\nthinkers who came after him.\n\nThe Transcendental Philosophy, so-called, had a distinct origin in\nImmanuel Kant, whose \"Critique of Pure Reason\" was published in 1781,\nand opened a new epoch in metaphysical thought. By this it is not meant\nthat Kant started a new movement of the human mind, proposed original\nproblems, or projected issues never contemplated before. The questions\nhe discussed had been discussed from the earliest times, and with an\nacumen that had searched out the nicest points of definition. In the\ncontroversy between the Nominalists, who maintained that the terms used\nto describe abstract and universal ideas were mere names, designating no\nreal objects and corresponding to no actually existing things, and the\nRealists, who contended that such terms were not figments of language,\nbut described realities, solid though incorporeal, actual existences,\nnot to be confounded with visible and transient things, but the\nessential types of such,--the scholastics of either school discussed\nafter their manner, with astonishing fulness and subtlety, the matters\nwhich later metaphysicians introduced. The modern Germans revived in\nsubstance the doctrines held by the Realists. But the scholastic method,\nwhich was borrowed from the Greeks, lost its authority when the power of\nAristotle's name declined, and the scholastic discussions, turning, as\nthey signally did, on theological questions, ceased to be interesting\nwhen the spell of theology was broken.\n\nBetween the schools of Sensationalism and Idealism, since John Locke,\nthe same matters were in debate. The Scotch as well as the English\nmetaphysicians dealt with them according to their genius and ability.\nThe different writers, as they succeeded one another, took up the points\nthat were presented in their day, exercised on them such ingenuity as\nthey possessed, and in good faith made their several contributions to\nthe general fund of thought, but neglected to sink their shafts deep\nenough below the surface to strike new springs of water.\n\nLocke's Essay on the Human Understanding was an event that made an epoch\nin philosophy, because its author, not satisfied to take up questions\nwhere his predecessors had left them, undertook an independent\nexamination of the Human Mind, in order to ascertain what were the\nconditions of its knowledge. The ability with which this attempt was\nmade, the entire sincerity of it, the patient watch of the mental\noperations, the sagacity that followed the trail of lurking thoughts,\nsurprised them in their retreats, and extracted from them the secret of\ntheir combinations, fairly earned for him the title of \"Father of Modern\nPsychology.\" The intellectual history of the race shows very few such\nexamples of single-minded fidelity combined with rugged vigor and\nunaffected simplicity. With what honest directness he announced his\npurpose! His book grew out of a warm discussion among friends, the\nfruitlessness whereof convinced him that both sides had taken a wrong\ncourse; that before men set themselves upon inquiries into the deep\nmatters of philosophy \"it was necessary to examine our own abilities,\nand see what objects our understandings were or were not fitted to deal\nwith.\" To do this was his purpose.\n\n\"First,\" he said, \"I shall inquire into the original of those ideas,\nnotions, or whatever else you please to call them, which a man observes\nand is conscious to himself he has in his mind; and the ways whereby the\nunderstanding comes to be furnished with them.\n\n\"Secondly, I shall endeavor to show what knowledge the understanding\nhath by those ideas, and the certainty, evidence and extent of it.\n\n\"Thirdly, I shall make some inquiry into the nature and grounds of faith\nor opinion; whereby I mean that assent which we give to any proposition\nas true, of whose truth we have yet no certain knowledge; and we shall\nhave occasion to examine the reasons and degrees of assent.\"\n\nLocke did his work well: how well is attested by the excitement it\ncaused in the intellectual world, the impulse it gave to speculation in\nEngland and on the continent of Europe, the controversies over the\nauthor's opinions, the struggle of opposing schools to secure for their\ndoctrines his authority, the appreciation on one side, the depreciation\non the other, the disposition of one period to exalt him as the greatest\ndiscoverer in the philosophic realm, and the disposition of another\nperiod to challenge his title to the name of philosopher. The \"Essay\" is\na small book, written in a homely, business-like style, without\naffectation of depth or pretence of learning, but it is charged with\noriginal mental force. Exhaustive it was not; exhaustive it could not\nhave been. The England of the seventeenth century was not favorable to\noriginal researches in that field. The \"Essay\" was planned in 1670,\ncompleted after considerable interruptions in 1687, and published in\n1690. To one acquainted with the phases through which England was\npassing at that period, these dates will tell of untoward influences\nthat might account for graver deficiencies than characterize Locke's\nwork. The scholastic philosophy, from which Locke broke contemptuously\naway at Oxford, seems to have left no mark on his mind; but the\ncontemptuous revulsion, and the naked self-reliance in which the\nsagacious but not generously cultivated man found refuge, probably\nroughened his speculative sensibility, and made it impossible for him to\nhandle with perfect nicety the more delicate facts of his science. It\ncan hardly be claimed that Locke was endowed by nature with\nphilosophical genius of the highest order. While at Oxford he abandoned\nphilosophy, in disgust, for medicine, and distinguished himself there by\njudgment and penetration. Subsequently his attention was turned to\npolitics, another pursuit even less congenial with introspective genius.\nThese may not be the reasons for the \"incompleteness\" which so glowing a\neulogist as Mr. George H. Lewes admits in the \"Essay;\" but at all\nevents, whatever the reasons may have been, the incompleteness was felt;\nthe debate over the author's meaning was an open proclamation of it; at\nthe close of a century it was apparent to at least one mind that Locke's\nattempt must be repeated, and his work done over again more carefully.\n\nThe man who came to this conclusion and was moved to act on it was\nIMMANUEL KANT, born at Koenigsberg, in Prussia, April 22d, 1724; died\nthere February 12th, 1804. His was a life rigorously devoted to\nphilosophy. He inherited from his parents a love of truth, a respect for\nmoral worth, and an intellectual integrity which his precursor in\nEngland did not more than match. He was a master in the sciences, a\nproficient in languages, a man cultivated in literature, a severe\nstudent, of the German type, whose long, calm, peaceful years were spent\nin meditation, lecturing and writing. He was distinguished as a\nmathematician before he was heard of as a philosopher, having predicted\nthe existence of the planet Uranus before Herschel discovered it. He was\nforty-five years old when these trained powers were brought to bear on\nthe study of the human mind: he was sixty-seven when the meditation was\nended. His book, the \"Critique of Pure Reason,\" was the result of twelve\nyears of such thinking as his genius and training made him capable of.\nIn what spirit and with what hope he went about his task, appears in the\nIntroduction and the Prefaces to the editions of 1781 and 1787. In these\nhe frankly opens his mind in regard to the condition of philosophical\nspeculation. That condition he describes as one of saddest indifference.\nThe throne of Metaphysics was vacant, and its former occupant was a\nwanderer, cast off by the meanest of his subjects. Locke had started a\nflight of hypotheses, which had frittered his force away and made his\neffort barren of definite result. Theories had been suggested and\nabandoned; the straw had been thrashed till only dust remained; and\nunless a new method could be hit on, the days of mental philosophy might\nbe considered as numbered. The physical sciences would take advantage of\nthe time, enter the deserted house, secure possession, and set up their\nidols in the ancient shrine.\n\nThese sciences, it was admitted, command and deserve unqualified\nrespect. To discover the secret of their success Kant passed in review\ntheir different systems, examined them in respect to their principles\nand conditions of progress, with a purpose to know what, if any,\nessential difference there might be between them and the metaphysics\nwhich had from of old claimed to be, and had the name of being, a\nscience. Logic, mathematics, physics, are sciences: by virtue of what\ninherent peculiarity do they claim superior right to that high\nappellation? Intellectual philosophy has always been given over to\nconflicting parties. Its history is a history of controversies, and of\ncontroversies that resulted in no triumph for either side, established\nno doctrine, and reclaimed no portion of truth. Material philosophy has\nmade steady advances from the beginning; its disputes have ended in\ndemonstrations, its contests have resulted in the establishment of\nlegitimate authority: if its progress has been slow it has been\ncontinuous; it has never receded; and its variations from a straight\ncourse are insignificant when surveyed from a position that commands its\nwhole career.\n\nSince Aristotle, logic has, without serious impediment or check, matured\nits rules and methods. Holding the same cardinal positions as in\nAristotle's time, it has simply made them stronger, the rules being but\ninterpretations of rational principles, the methods following precisely\nthe indications of the human mind, which from the nature of the case\nremain always the same.\n\nThe mathematics, again, have had their periods of uncertainty and\nconjecture. But since the discovery of the essential properties of the\ntriangle, the career has been uninterrupted. The persistent study of\nconstant properties, which were not natural data, but mental conceptions\nformed by the elimination of variable quantities, led to results which\nhad not to be abandoned.\n\nIt was the same with physics. The physics of the ancients were heaps of\nconjecture. The predecessors of Galileo abandoned conjecture, put\nthemselves face to face with Nature, observed and classified phenomena,\nbut possessed no method by which their labors could be made productive\nof cumulative results. But after Galileo had experimented with balls of\na given weight on an inclined plane, and Torricelli had pushed upward a\nweight equal to a known column of water, and Stahl had reduced metals to\nlime and transformed lime back again into metal, by the addition and\nsubtraction of certain parts, the naturalists carried a torch that\nillumined their path. They perceived that reason lays her own plans,\ntakes the initiative with her own principles, and must compel nature to\nanswer her questions, instead of obsequiously following its\nleading-string. It was discovered that scattered observations, made in\nobedience to no fixed plan, and associated with no necessary law, could\nnot be brought into systematic form. The discovery of such a law is a\nnecessity of reason. Reason presents herself before nature, holding in\none hand the principles which alone have power to bring into order and\nharmony the phenomena of nature; in the other hand grasping the results\nof experiment conducted according to those principles. Reason demands\nknowledge of nature, not as a docile pupil who receives implicitly the\nmaster's word, but as a judge who constrains witnesses to reply to\nquestions put to them by the court. To this attitude are due the happy\nachievements in physics; reason seeking--not fancying--in nature, by\nconformity with her own rules, what nature ought to teach, and what of\nherself she could not learn. Thus physics became established upon the\nsolid basis of a science, after centuries of error and groping.\n\nWherefore now, asks Kant, are metaphysics so far behind logic,\nmathematics, and physics? Wherefore these heaps of conjecture, these\nvain attempts at solution? Wherefore these futile lives of great men,\nthese abortive flights of genius? The study of the mind is not an\narbitrary pursuit, suggested by vanity and conducted by caprice, to be\ntaken up idly and relinquished at a moment's notice. The human mind\ncannot acquiesce in a judgment that condemns it to barrenness and\nindifference in respect to such questions as God, the Soul, the World,\nthe Life to Come; it is perpetually revising and reversing the decrees\npronounced against itself. It must accept the conditions of its being.\n\nFrom a review of the progress of the sciences it appeared to Kant that\ntheir advance was owing to the elimination of the variable elements, and\nthe steady contemplation of the elements that are invariable and\nconstant, the most essential of which is the contribution made by the\nhuman mind. The laws that are the basis of logic, of the mathematics,\nand of the higher physics, and that give certitude to these sciences,\nare simply the laws of the human mind itself. Strictly speaking, then,\nit is in the constitution of the human mind, irrespective of outward\nobjects and the application of principles to them, that we must seek the\nprinciple of certitude. Thus far in the history of philosophy the human\nmind had not been fairly considered. Thinkers had concerned themselves\nwith the objects of knowledge, not with the mind that knows. They had\ncollected facts; they had constructed systems; they had traced\nconnections; they had drawn conclusions. Few had defined the relations\nof knowledge to the human mind. Yet to do that seemed the only way to\narrive at certainty, and raise metaphysics to the established rank of\nphysics, mathematics, and logic.\n\nStruck with this idea, Kant undertook to transfer contemplation from the\nobjects that engaged the mind to the mind itself, and thus start\nphilosophy on a new career. He meditated a fresh departure, and proposed\nto effect in metaphysics a revolution parallel with that which\nCopernicus effected in astronomy. As Copernicus, finding it impossible\nto explain the movements of the heavenly bodies on the supposition of\ntheir turning round the globe as a centre, bethought him to posit the\nsun as a centre, round which the earth with other heavenly bodies\nturned--so Kant, perceiving the confusion that resulted from making man\na satellite of the external world, resolved to try the effect of placing\nhim in the position of central sway. Whether this pretension was\njustifiable or not, is not a subject of inquiry here. They may be right\nwho sneer at it as a fallacy; they may be right who ridicule it as a\nconceit. We are historians, not critics. That Kant's position was as\nhas been described, admits of no question. That he built great\nexpectations on his method is certain. He anticipated from it the\noverthrow of hypotheses which, having no legitimate title to authority,\nerected themselves to the dignity of dogmas, and assumed supreme rank in\nthe realm of speculation. That it would be the destruction of famous\ndemonstrations, and would reduce renowned arguments to naught, might be\nforeseen; but in the place of pretended demonstrations, he was confident\nthat solid ones would be established, and arguments that were merely\nspecious would give room to arguments that were profound. Schools might\nbe broken up, but the interests of the human race would be secured. At\nfirst it might appear as if cardinal beliefs of mankind must be menaced\nwith extinction as the ancient supports one after another fell; but as\nsoon as the new foundations were disclosed it was anticipated that faith\nwould revive, and the great convictions would stand more securely than\never. Whatever of truth the older systems had contained would receive\nfresh and trustworthy authentication; the false would be expelled; and a\nmethod laid down by which new discoveries in the intellectual sphere\nmight be confidently predicted.\n\nIn this spirit the author of the transcendental philosophy began,\ncontinued, and finished his work.\n\nThe word \"transcendental\" was not new in philosophy. The Schoolmen had\nused it to describe whatever could not be comprehended in or classified\nunder the so-called categories of Aristotle, who was the recognized\nprince of the intellectual world. These categories were ten in number:\nQuantity, Quality, Relation, Action, Passion, The Where, The When,\nPosition in Space, Possession, Substance. Four things were regarded by\nthe Schoolmen as transcending these mental forms--namely, Being, Truth,\nUnity, Goodness. It is hardly necessary to say that the\nTranscendentalism of modern times owed very little to these\ndistinctions, if it owed anything to them. Its origin was not from\nthence; its method was so dissimilar as to seem sharply opposed.\n\nThe word \"transcendental\" has become domesticated in science.\nTranscendental anatomy inquires into the idea, the original conception\nor model on which the organic frame of animals is built, the unity of\nplan discernible throughout multitudinous genera and orders.\nTranscendental curves are curves that cannot be defined by algebraic\nequations. Transcendental equations express relations between\ntranscendental qualities. Transcendental physiology treats of the laws\nof development and function, which apply, not to particular kinds or\nclasses of organisms, but to all organisms. In the terminology of Kant\nthe term \"transcendent\" was employed to designate qualities that lie\noutside of all \"experience,\" that cannot be brought within the\nrecognized formularies of thought, cannot be reached either by\nobservation or reflection, or explained as the consequences of any\ndiscoverable antecedents. The term \"transcendental\" designated the\nfundamental conceptions, the universal and necessary judgments, which\ntranscend the sphere of experience, and at the same time impose the\nconditions that make experience tributary to knowledge. The\ntranscendental philosophy is the philosophy that is built on these\nnecessary and universal principles, these primary laws of mind, which\nare the ground of absolute truth. The supremacy given to these and the\nauthority given to the truths that result from them entitle the\nphilosophy to its name. \"I term all cognition transcendental which\nconcerns itself not so much with objects, as with our mode of cognition\nof objects so far as this may be possible a priori. A system of such\nconceptions would be called Transcendental Philosophy.\"\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM IN GERMANY.\n\n\nKANT.\n\nThere is no call to discuss here the system of Kant, or even to describe\nit in detail. The means of studying the system are within easy reach of\nEnglish readers.[1] Our concern is to know the method which Kant\nemployed, and the use he made of it, the ground he took and the\npositions he held, so far as this can be indicated within reasonable\ncompass, and without becoming involved in the complexity of the author's\nmetaphysics. The Critique of Pure Reason is precisely what the title\nimports--a searching analysis of the human mind; an attempt to get at\nthe ultimate grounds of thought, to discover the a priori principles.\n\"Reason is the faculty which furnishes the principles of cognition a\npriori. Therefore pure reason is that which contains the principles of\nknowing something, absolutely a priori. An organon of pure reason would\nbe a summary of these principles, according to which all pure cognition\na priori can be obtained, and really accomplished. The extended\napplication of such an organon would furnish a system of pure reason.\"\n\n[1] See Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, London, 1838; Morell's History\nof Modern Philosophy; Chalybaeus' Historical Development of Speculative\nPhilosophy from Kant to Hegel; Lewes' Biographical History of\nPhilosophy; Cousin's Lecons, OEuvres, Iere serie, vol. 5, give a clear\naccount of Kant's philosophy.\n\nThe problem of modern philosophy may be thus stated: _Have we or have we\nnot ideas that are true of necessity, and absolutely? Are there ideas\nthat can fairly be pronounced independent in their origin of experience,\nand out of the reach of experience by their nature?_ One party contended\nthat all knowledge was derived from experience; that there was nothing\nin the intellect that had not previously been in the senses: the\nopposite party maintained that a portion, at least, of knowledge came\nfrom the mind itself; that the intellect contained powers of its own,\nand impressed its forms upon the phenomena of sense. The extreme\ndoctrine of the two schools was represented, on the one side by the\nmaterialists, on the other by the mystics. Between these two extremes\nvarious degrees of compromise were offered.\n\nThe doctrine of innate ideas, ascribed to Descartes,--though he\nabandoned it as untenable in its crude form,--affirmed that certain\ncardinal ideas, such as causality, infinity, substance, eternity, were\nnative to the mind, born in it as part of its organic constitution,\nwholly independent therefore of experience. Locke claimed for the mind\nmerely a power of reflection by which it was able to modify and alter\nthe material given by the senses, thus exploding the doctrine of innate\nideas.\n\nLeibnitz, anxious to escape the danger into which Descartes fell, of\nmaking the outward world purely phenomenal, an expression of unalterable\nthought, and also to escape the consequences of Locke's position that\nall knowledge originates in the senses, suggested that the understanding\nitself was independent of experience, that though it did not contain\nideas like a vessel, it was entitled to be called a power of forming\nideas, which have, as in mathematics, a character of necessary truths.\nThese necessary laws of the understanding, which experience had no hand\nin creating, are, according to Leibnitz, the primordial conditions of\nhuman knowledge.\n\nHume, taking Locke at his word, that all knowledge came from experience,\nthat the mind was a passive recipient of impressions, with no\nindependent intellectual substratum, reasoned that mind was a fiction;\nand taking Berkeley at his word that the outward world had no material\nexistence, and no _apparent_ existence except to our perception, he\nreasoned that matter was a fiction. Mind and matter both being fictions,\nthere could be no certain knowledge; truth was unattainable; ideas were\nillusions. The opposing schools of philosophers annihilated each other,\nand the result was scepticism.\n\nHume started Kant on his long and severe course of investigation, the\nresult of which was, that neither of the antagonist parties could\nsustain itself: that Descartes was wrong in asserting that such abstract\nideas as causality, infinity, substance, time, space, are independent of\nexperience, since without experience they would not exist, and\nexperience takes from them form only; that Locke was wrong in asserting\nthat all ideas originated in experience, and were resolvable into it,\nsince the ideas of causality, substance, infinity and others certainly\ndid not so originate, and were not thus resolvable. It is idle to\ndispute whether knowledge comes from one source or another--from without\nthrough sensation, or from within through intuition; the everlasting\nbattle between idealism and realism, spiritualism and materialism, can\nnever result in victory to either side. Mind and universe, intelligence\nand experience, suppose each other; neither alone is operative to\nproduce knowledge. Knowledge is the product of their mutual\nco-operation. Mind does not originate ideas, neither does sensation\nimpart them. Object and subject, sterile by themselves, become fruitful\nby conjunction. There are not two sources of knowledge, but one only,\nand that one is produced by the union of the two apparent opposites.\nTruth is the crystallization, so to speak, that results from the\ncombined elements.\n\nLet us follow the initial steps of Kant's analysis. Mind and\nUniverse--Subject and Object--Ego and Non-ego, stand opposite one\nanother, front to front. Mind is conscious only of its own operations:\nthe subject alone considers. The first fact noted is, that the subject\nis sensitive to impressions made by outward things, and is receptive of\nthem. Dwelling on this fact, we discover that while the impressions are\nmany in number and of great variety, they all, whatever their character,\nfall within certain inflexible and unalterable conditions--those of\nspace and time--which must, therefore, be regarded as pre-established\nforms of sensibility. \"Time is no empirical conception which can be\ndeduced from experience. Time is a necessary representation which lies\nat the foundation of all intuitions. Time is given a priori. In it alone\nis any reality of phenomena possible. These disappear, but it cannot be\nannihilated.\" So of space. \"Space is an intuition, met with in us a\npriori, antecedent to any perception of objects, a pure, not an\nempirical intuition.\" These two forms of sensibility, inherent and\ninvariable, to which all experiences are subject, are primeval facts of\nconsciousness. Kant's argument on the point whether or no space and time\nhave an existence apart from the mind, is interesting, but need not\ndetain us.\n\nThe materials furnished by sensibility are taken up by the\nunderstanding, which classifies, interprets, judges, compares, reduces\nto unity, eliminates, converts, and thus fashions sensations into\nconceptions, transmutes impressions into thoughts. Here fresh processes\nof analysis are employed in classifying judgments, and determining their\nconditions. All judgments, it is found, must conform to one of four\ninvariable conditions. I. Quantity, which may be subdivided into unity,\nplurality, and totality: the one, the many, the whole. II. Quality,\nwhich is divisible as reality, negation, and limitation: something,\nnothing, and the more or less. III. Relation, which also comprises three\nheads: substance and accident, cause and effect, reciprocity, or action\nand reaction. IV. Modality, which embraces the possible and the\nimpossible, the existent and the non-existent, the necessary and the\ncontingent. These categories, as they were called, after the terminology\nof Aristotle, were supposed to exhaust the forms of conception.\n\nHaving thus arrived at conceptions, thoughts, judgments, another faculty\ncomes in to classify the conceptions, link the thoughts together, reduce\nthe judgments to general laws, draw inferences, fix conclusions, proceed\nfrom the particular to the general, recede from the general to the\nparticular, mount from the conditioned to the unconditioned, till it\narrives at ultimate principles. This faculty is reason,--the supreme\nfaculty, above sensibility, above understanding. Reason gives the final\ngeneralization, the idea of a universe comprehending the infinitude of\ndetails presented by the senses, and the worlds of knowledge shaped by\nthe understanding; the idea of a personality embracing the infinite\ncomplexities of feeling, and gathering under one dominion the realms of\nconsciousness; the idea of a supreme unity combining in itself both the\nother ideas; the absolute perfection, the infinite and eternal One,\nwhich men describe by the word God.\n\nHere the thinker rested. His search could be carried no further. He had,\nas he believed, established the independent dominion of the mind, had\nmapped out its confines, had surveyed its surface; he had confronted the\nidealist with the reality of an external world; he had confronted the\nsceptic with laws of mind that were independent of experience; and,\nhaving done so much, he was satisfied, and refused to move an inch\nbeyond the ground he occupied. To those who applied to him for a system\nof positive doctrines, or for ground on which a system of positive\ndoctrines could be erected, he declined to give aid. The mind, he said,\ncannot go out of itself, cannot transgress its own limits. It has no\nfaculty by which it can perceive things _as they are_; no vision to\nbehold objects corresponding to its ideas; no power to bridge over the\ngulf between its own consciousness and a world of realities existing\napart from it. Whether there be a spiritual universe answering to our\nconception, a Being justifying reason's idea of supreme unity, a soul\nthat can exist in an eternal, supersensible world, are questions the\nphilosopher declined to discuss. The contents of his own mind were\nrevealed to him, no more. Kant laid the foundations, he built no\nstructure. He would not put one stone upon another; he declared it to be\nbeyond the power of man to put one stone upon another. The attempts\nwhich his earnest disciples--Fichte, for example--made to erect a temple\non his foundation he repudiated. As the existence of an external world,\nthough a necessary postulate, could not be demonstrated, but only\nlogically affirmed; so the existence of a spiritual world of substantial\nentities corresponding to our conceptions, though a necessary inference,\ncould only be logically affirmed, not demonstrated. Our idea of God is\nno proof that God exists. That there is a God may be an irresistible\npersuasion, but it can be nothing more; it cannot be knowledge. Of the\nfacts of consciousness, the reality of the ideas in the mind, we may be\ncertain; our belief in them is clear and solid; but from _belief_ in\nthem there is no bridge to _them_.\n\nKant asserted the veracity of consciousness, and demanded an absolute\nacknowledgment of that veracity. The fidelity of the mind to itself was\na first principle with him. Having these ideas, of the soul, of God, of\na moral law; being certain that they neither originated in experience,\nnor depended on experience for their validity; that they transcended\nexperience altogether--man was committed to an unswerving and\nuncompromising loyalty to himself. His prime duty consisted in deference\nto the integrity of his own mind. The laws of his intellectual and moral\nnature were inviolable. Whether there was or was not a God; whether\nthere was or was not a substantial world of experience where the idea of\nrectitude could be realized, the dictate of duty justified, the soul's\naffirmation of good ratified by actual felicity,--rectitude was none the\nless incumbent on the rational mind; the law of duty was none the less\nimperative; the vision of good none the less glorious and inspiring.\nVirtue had its principle in the constitution of the mind itself. Every\nvirtue had there its seat. There was no sweetness of purity, no heroism\nof faith, that had not an abiding-place in this impregnable fortress.\n\nThus, while on the speculative side Kant came out a sceptic in regard to\nthe dogmatic beliefs of mankind, on the practical side he remained the\nfast friend of intellectual truth and moral sanctity. Practical ethics\nnever had a more stanch supporter than Immanuel Kant. If a man cannot\npass beyond the confines of his own mind, he has, at all events, within\nhis own mind a temple, a citadel, a home.\n\nThe \"Critique of Pure Reason\" made no impression on its first\nappearance. But no sooner was its significance apprehended, than a storm\nof controversy betrayed the fact that even the friends of the new\nteacher were less content than he was to be shut up in their own minds.\nThe calm, passionless, imperturbable man smoked his pipe in the peace of\nmeditation; eager thinkers, desirous of getting more out of the system\nthan its author did, were impatient at his backwardness, and made the\nintellectual world ring with their calls to improve upon and complete\nhis task.\n\nThe publication of Kant's great work did not put an end to the wars of\nphilosophy. On the contrary, they raged about it more furiously than\never. As the two schools found in Locke fresh occasion for renewing\ntheir strife under the cover of that great name, so here again the\nlatent elements of discord were discovered and speedily brought to the\nsurface. The sceptics seized on the sceptical bearings of the new\nanalysis, and proceeded to build their castle from the materials it\nfurnished; the idealists took advantage of the positions gained by the\nlast champion, and pushed their lines forward in the direction of\ntranscendental conquest. We are not called on to follow the sceptics,\nhowever legitimate their course, and we shall but indicate the progress\nmade by the idealists, giving their cardinal principles, as we have done\nthose of their master.\n\n\nJACOBI.\n\nThe first important step in the direction of pure transcendentalism was\ntaken by Frederick Henry Jacobi, who was born at Duesseldorf, January 25,\n1743. He was a man well educated in philosophy, with a keen interest in\nthe study of it, though not a philosopher by profession, or a systematic\nwriter on metaphysical subjects. His position was that of a civilian who\ndevoted the larger part of his time to the duties of a public office\nunder the government. His writings consist mainly of letters, treatises\non special points of metaphysical inquiry, and articles in the\nphilosophical journals. His official position gave repute to the\nproductions of his pen, and the circumstance of his being, not an\namateur precisely, but a devotee of philosophy for the love of it and\nnot as a professional business, imparted to his speculation the\nfreshness of personal feeling. His ardent temperament, averse to\nscepticism, and touched with a mystical enthusiasm, rebelled against the\nformal and deadly precision of the analytical method, and sought a way\nout from the intellectual bleakness of the Kantean metaphysics into the\nsunshine and air of a living spiritual world. The critics busied\nthemselves with mining and sapping the foundations of consciousness as\nlaid by the philosopher of Koenigsberg, who, they complained, had been\ntoo easy in conceding the necessity of an outward world. Jacobi accepted\nwith gratitude the intellectual basis afforded, and proceeded to erect\nthereupon his observatory for studying the heavens. Though not the\noriginator of the \"Faith Philosophy,\" as it was called, he became the\nfinisher and the best known expositor of it. \"Since the time of\nAristotle,\" he said, \"it has been the effort of philosophical schools to\nrank direct and immediate knowledge below mediate and indirect; to\nsubordinate the capacity for original perception to the capacity for\nreflection on abstract ideas; to make intuition secondary to\nunderstanding, the sense of essential things to definitions. Nothing is\naccepted that does not admit of being proved by formal and logical\nprocess, so that, at last, the result is looked for there, and there\nonly. The validity of intuition is disallowed.\"\n\nJacobi's polemics were directed therefore against the systems of\nSpinoza, Leibnitz, Wolf--in a word against all systems that led to\nscepticism and dogmatism; and his positive efforts were employed in\nconstructing a system of Faith. His key-word was \"Faith,\" by which he\nmeant intuition, the power of gazing immediately on essential truth; an\nintellectual faculty which he finally called Reason, by which\nsupersensual objects become visible, as material objects become visible\nto the physical eye; an inward sense, a spiritual eye, that \"gives\nevidence of things not seen and substance to things hoped for;\" a\nfaculty of vision to which truths respecting God, Providence,\nImmortality, Freedom, the Moral Law, are palpably disclosed. Kant had\npronounced it impossible to prove that the transcendental idea had a\ncorresponding reality as objective being. Jacobi declared that no such\nproof was needed; that the reality was necessarily assumed. Kant had\ndenied the existence of any faculty that could guarantee the existence\nof either a sensual or a supersensual world. Jacobi was above all else\ncertain that such a faculty there was, that it was altogether\ntrustworthy, and that it actually furnished material for religious hope\nand spiritual life: the only possible material, he went on to say; for\nwithout this capacity of intuition, philosophy could be in his judgment\nnothing but an insubstantial fabric, a castle in the air, a thing of\ndefinitions and terminologies, a shifting body of hot and cold vapor.\n\nThis, it will be observed, seemed a legitimate consequence of Kant's\nmethod. Kant had admitted the subjective reality of sensible\nimpressions, and had claimed a similar reality for our mental images of\nsupersensible things. He allowed the validity _as conceptions_, the\npractical validity, of the ideas of God, Duty, Immortality. Jacobi\ncontended that having gone so far, it was lawful if not compulsory to go\nfarther; that the subjective reality implied an objective reality; that\nthe practical inference was as valid as any logical inference could be;\nand that through the intuition of reason the mind was placed again in a\nliving universe of divine realities.\n\nChalybaeus says of Jacobi: \"With deep penetration he traced the mystic\nfountain of desire after the highest and best, to the point where it\ndiscloses itself as an immediate feeling in consciousness; that this\npresentiment was nothing more than Kant said it was--a faint mark made\nby the compressing chain of logic, he would not allow; he described it\nrather as the special endowment and secret treasure of the human mind,\nwhich he that would not lose it must guard against the touch of\nevil-minded curiosity; for whoever ventures into this sanctuary with the\ntorch of science, will fare as did the youth before the veiled image at\nSais.\" And again: \"This point, that a self-subsisting truth must\ncorrespond to the conscious idea, that the subject must have an object\nwhich is personal like itself, is the ore that Jacobi was intent on\nextracting from the layers of consciousness: he disclosed it only in\npart, but unsatisfactory as his exposition was to the stern inquisition\nof science, his purpose was so strong, his aim so single, we cannot\nwonder that, in spite of the outcry and the scorn against his 'Faith or\nFeeling Philosophy,' his thought survived, and even entered on a new\ncareer in later times. It must, however, be confessed that instead of\nfollowing up his clue, speculative fashion, he laid down his undeveloped\ntheorem as an essential truth, above speculation, declaring that\nspeculation must end in absolute idealism, which was but another name\nfor nihilism and fatalism. Jacobi made his own private consciousness a\nmeasure for the human mind.\" At the close of his chapter, Chalybaeus\nquotes Hegel's verdict, expressed in these words: \"Jacobi resembles a\nsolitary thinker, who, in his life's morning, finds an ancient riddle\nhewn in the primeval rock; he believes that the riddle contains a truth,\nbut he tries in vain to discover it. The day long he carries it about\nwith him; entices weighty suggestions from it; displays it in shapes of\nteaching and imagery that fascinate listeners, inspiring noblest wishes\nand anticipations: but the interpretation eludes him, and at evening he\nlays him down in the hope that a celestial dream or the next morning's\nwaking will make articulate the word he longs for and has believed in.\"\n\n\nFICHTE.\n\nThe transcendental philosophy received from Jacobi an impulse toward\nmysticism. From another master it received an impulse toward heroism.\nThis master was Johann Gottlieb Fichte, born at Rammenau, in Upper\nLusatia, on the 19th of May, 1762. A short memoir of him by William\nSmith, published in 1845, with a translation of the \"Nature of the\nScholar,\" and reprinted in Boston, excited a deep interest among people\nwho had neither sympathy with his philosophy nor intelligence to\ncomprehend it. He was a great mind, and a greater character--sensitive,\nproud, brave, determined, enthusiastic, imperious, aspiring; a mighty\nsoul; \"a cold, colossal, adamantine spirit, standing erect and clear,\nlike a Cato Major among degenerate men; fit to have been the teacher of\nthe Stoa, and to have discoursed of beauty and virtue in the groves of\nAcademe! So robust an intellect, a soul so calm, so lofty, massive, and\nimmovable, has not mingled in philosophical discussion since the time of\nLuther. For the man rises before us amid contradiction and debate like a\ngranite mountain amid clouds and winds. As a man approved by action and\nsuffering, in his life and in his death, he ranks with a class of men\nwho were common only in better ages than ours.\" Thus wrote Thomas\nCarlyle of him more than a generation ago.\n\nThe direction given to philosophy by such a man could not but be decided\nand bold. His short treatises, all marked by intellectual power, some by\nglowing eloquence, carried his thoughts beyond the philosophical circle\nand spread his leading principles far beyond the usual speculative\nlines. \"The Destination of Man,\" \"The Vocation of the Scholar,\" \"The\nNature of the Scholar,\" \"The Vocation of Man,\" \"The Characteristics of\nthe Present Age,\" \"The Way towards the Blessed Life,\" were translated\ninto English, published in the \"Catholic Series\" of John Chapman, and\nextensively read. The English reviewers helped to make the author and\nhis ideas known to many readers.\n\nThe contribution that Fichte made to the transcendental philosophy may\nbe described without using many words. He became acquainted with Kant's\nsystem in Leipsic, where he was teaching, in 1790. The effect it had on\nhim is described in letters to his friends. To one he wrote: \"The last\nfour or five months which I have passed in Leipsic have been the\nhappiest of my life; and the most satisfactory part of it is, that I\nhave to thank no man for the smallest ingredient in its pleasures. When\nI came to Leipsic my brain swarmed with great plans. All were wrecked;\nand of so many soap-bubbles there now remains not even the light froth\nthat composed them. This disturbed a little my peace of mind, and half\nin despair I joined a party to which I should long ere this have\nbelonged. Since I could not alter my outward condition, I resolved on\ninternal change. I threw myself into philosophy, and, as you know, the\nKantean. Here I found the remedy for my ills, and joy enough to boot.\nThe influence of this philosophy, the moral part of it in particular\n(which, however, is unintelligible without previous study of the\n'Critique of Pure Reason'), on the whole spiritual life, and especially\nthe revolution it has caused in my own mode of thought, is\nindescribable.\" To another he wrote in similar strain: \"I have lived in\na new world since reading the 'Critique of Pure Reason.' Principles I\nbelieved irrefragable are refuted; things I thought could never be\nproved--the idea of absolute freedom, of duty, for example--are\ndemonstrated; and I am so much the happier. It is indescribable what\nrespect for humanity, what power this system gives us. What a blessing\nto an age in which morality was torn up by the roots, and the word duty\nblotted out of the dictionary!\" To Johanna Rahn he expresses himself in\nstill heartier terms: \"My scheming mind has found rest at last, and I\nthank Providence that shortly before all my hopes were frustrated I was\nplaced in a position which enabled me to bear the disappointment with\ncheerfulness. A circumstance that seemed the result of mere chance\ninduced me to devote myself entirely to the study of the Kantean\nphilosophy--a philosophy that restrains the imagination, always too\nstrong with me, gives reason sway, and raises the soul to an unspeakable\nheight above all earthly concerns. I have accepted a nobler morality,\nand instead of busying myself with outward things, I concern myself\nmore with my own being. It has given me a peace such as I never before\nexperienced; amid uncertain worldly prospects I have passed my happiest\ndays. It is difficult beyond all conception, and stands greatly in need\nof simplification.... The first elements are hard speculations, that\nhave no direct bearing on human life, but their conclusions are most\nimportant for an age whose morality is corrupted at the fountain head;\nand to set these consequences before the world would, I believe, be\ndoing it a good service. I am now thoroughly convinced that the human\nwill is free, and that to be happy is not the purpose of our being, but\nto deserve happiness.\" So great was Fichte's admiration of Kant's\nsystem, that he became at once an expositor of its principles, in the\nhope that he might render it intelligible and attractive to minds of\nordinary culture.\n\nFichte considered himself a pure Kantean, perhaps the only absolutely\nconsistent one there was; and that he did so is not surprising; for, in\nmending the master's positions, he seemed to be strengthening them\nagainst assault. He did not, like Jacobi, draw inferences which Kant had\nlaboriously, and, as it seemed, effectually cut off; he merely\nentrenched himself within the lines the philosopher of Koenigsberg had\ndrawn. Kant had, so his critics charged, taken for granted the reality\nof our perceptions of outward things. This was the weak point in his\nsystem, of which his adversaries took advantage. On this side he allowed\nempiricism to construct his wall, and left incautiously an opening which\nthe keen-sighted foe perceived at once. Fichte bethought him to fortify\nthat point, and thus make the philosophy unassailable; to take it, in\nfact, out of the category of a philosophical system, and give it the\ncharacter of a science. To this end, with infinite pains and incredible\nlabor, he tested the foundations to discover the fundamental and final\nfacts which rested on the solid rock. The ultimate facts of\nconsciousness were in question.\n\nFichte accepted without hesitation the confinement within the limits of\nconsciousness against which Jacobi rebelled, and proceeded to make the\nprison worthy of such an occupant. The facts of consciousness, he\nadmitted, are all we have. The states and activities of the mind,\nperceptions, ideas, judgments, sentiments, or by whatever other name\nthey may be called, constitute, by his admission, all our knowledge, and\nbeyond them we cannot go. They are, however, solid and substantial. Of\nthe outward world he knew nothing and had nothing to say; he was not\nconcerned with that. The mind is the man; the history of the mind is the\nman's history; the processes of the mind report the whole of experience;\nthe phenomena of the external universe are mere phenomena, reflections,\nso far as we know, of our thought; the mountains, woods, stars, are\nfacts of consciousness, to which we attach these names. To infer that\nthey exist because we have ideas of them, is illegitimate in philosophy.\nThe ideas stand by themselves, and are sufficient of themselves.\n\nThe mind is first, foremost, creative and supreme. It takes the\ninitiative in all processes. He that assumes the existence of an\nexternal world does so on the authority of consciousness. If he says\nthat consciousness compels us to assume the existence of such a world,\nthat it is so constituted as to imply the realization of its conception,\nstill we have simply the fact of consciousness; power to verify the\nrelation between this inner fact and a corresponding physical\nrepresentation, there is none. Analyze the facts of consciousness as\nmuch as we may, revise them, compare them, we are still within their\ncircle and cannot pass beyond its limit. Is it urged that the existence\nof an external world is a _necessary_ postulate? The same reply avails,\nnamely, that the idea of necessity is but one of our ideas, a conception\nof the mind, an inner notion or impression which legitimates itself\nalone. Does the objector further insist, in a tone of exasperation\ncaused by what seems to him quibbling, that in this case consciousness\nplays us false, makes a promise to the ear which it breaks to the\nhope--lies, in short? The imperturbable philosopher sets aside the\ninsinuation as an impertinence. The fact of consciousness, he maintains,\nstands and testifies for itself. It is not answerable for anything out\nof its sphere. In saying what it does it speaks the truth; the whole\ntruth, so far as we can determine. Whether or no it is absolutely the\nwhole truth, the truth as it lies in a mind otherwise constituted, is no\nconcern of ours.\n\nThe reasoning by which Fichte cut off the certainty of a material world\noutside of the mind, told with equal force against the objective\nexistence of a spiritual world. The mental vision being bounded by the\nmental sphere, its objects being there and only there, with them we\nmust be content. The soul has its domain, untrodden forests to explore,\nsilent and trackless ways to follow, mystery to rest in, light to walk\nby, fountains and floods of living water, starry firmaments of thought,\ncontinents of reason, zones of law, and with this domain it must be\nsatisfied. God is one of its ideas; immortality is another; that they\nare anything more than ideas, cannot be known.\n\nThat the charge of atheism should be brought against so uncompromising a\nthinker, is a less grave imputation upon the discernment of his\ncontemporaries than ordinarily it is. That he should have been obliged,\nin consequence of it, to leave Jena, and seek an asylum in Prussia, need\nnot excite indignation, at least in those who remember his unwillingness\nor inability to modify his view, or explain the sense in which he called\nhimself a believer. To \"charge\" a man with atheism, as if atheism were\nguilt, is a folly to be ashamed of; but to \"class\" a man among atheists\nwho _in no sense_ accepts the doctrine of an intelligent, creative\nCause, is just, while language has meaning. And this is Fichte's\nposition. In his philosophy there was no place for assurance of a Being\ncorresponding to the mental conception. The word \"God\" with him\nexpressed the category of the Ideal. The world being but the incarnation\nof our sense of duty, the reflection of the mind, the creator of it is\nthe mind. God, being a reflection of the soul in its own atmosphere, is\none of the soul's creations, a shadow on the surface of a pool. The soul\ncreates; deity is created. This is not even ideal atheism, like that of\nEtienne Vacherot; it may be much nobler and more inspiring than the\nrecognized forms of theism; it is dogmatic or speculative atheism only:\nbut that it is, and that it should confess itself. It was natural that\nFichte, being perfect master of his thought, should disclaim and resent\nan imputation which in spirit he felt was undeserved. It was natural\nthat people who were not masters of his thought, and would not have\nappreciated it if they had been, should judge him by the only\ndefinitions they had. Berkeley and Fichte stood at opposite extremes in\ntheir Idealism. Berkeley, starting from the theological conception of\nGod, maintained that the outward world had a real existence in the\nsupreme mind, being phenomenal only to the human. Fichte, starting from\nthe human mind, contended that it was _altogether_ phenomenal, the\nsupreme mind itself being phantasmal.\n\nHow came it, some will naturally ask, that such a man escaped the deadly\nconsequences of such resolute introspection? Where was there the\nindispensable basis for action and reaction? Life is conditioned by\nlimitation; the shore gives character to the sea; the outward world\ngives character to the man, excites his energy, defines his aim, trains\nhis perception, educates his will, offers a horizon to his hope. The\noutward world being removed, dissipated, resolved into impalpable\nthought, what substitute for it can be devised? Must not the man sink\ninto a visionary, and waste his life in dream?\n\nThat Fichte was practically no dreamer, has already been said. The man\nwho closed a severe, stately, and glowing lecture on duty with the\nannouncement--it was in 1813, when the French drums were rattling in\nthe street, at times drowning the speaker's voice--that the course would\nbe suspended till the close of the campaign, and would be resumed, if\nresumed at all, in a free country, and thereupon, with a German\npatriot's enthusiasm, rushed himself into the field--this man was no\nvisionary, lost in dreams. The internal world was with him a living\nworld; the mind was a living energy; ideas were things; principles were\nverities; the laws of thought were laws of being. So intense was his\nfeeling of the substantial nature of these invisible entities, that the\nobverse side of them, the negation of them, had all the _vis inertia_,\nall the objective validity of external things. He spoke of \"absolute\nlimitations,\" \"inexplicable limitations,\" against which the mind pressed\nas against palpable obstacles, and in pressing against which it acquired\ntension and vigor. Passing from the realm of speculation into that of\npractice, the obstacles assumed the attributes of powers, the\nimpediments became foes, to be resisted as strenuously as ever soldier\nopposed soldier in battle. From the strength of this conviction he was\nenabled to say: \"I am well convinced that this life is not a scene of\nenjoyment, but of labor and toil, and that every joy is granted but to\nstrengthen us for further exertion; that the control of our fate is not\nrequired of us, but only our self-culture. I give myself no concern\nabout external things; I endeavor to _be_, not to _seem_; I am no man's\nmaster, and no man's slave.\"\n\nFichte was a sublime egoist. In his view, the mind was sovereign and\nabsolute, capable of spontaneous, self-determined, originating action,\nhaving power to propose its own end and pursue its own freely-chosen\ncourse; a live intelligence, eagerly striving after self-development, to\nfulfil all the possibilities of its nature. Of one thing he was\ncertain--the reality of the rational soul, and in that certainty lay the\nground of his tremendous weight of assertion. His professional chair was\na throne; his discourses were prophecies; his tone was the tone of an\noracle. It made the blood burn to hear him; it makes the blood burn at\nthis distance to read his printed words. To cite a few sentences from\nhis writings in illustration of the man's way of dealing with the great\nproblems of life, is almost a necessity. The following often-quoted but\npregnant passage is from \"The Destination of Man:\" \"I understand thee\nnow, spirit sublime! I have found the organ by which to apprehend this\nreality, and probably all other. It is not knowledge, for knowledge can\nonly demonstrate and establish itself; every kind of knowledge supposes\nsome higher knowledge upon which it is founded; and of this ascent there\nis no end. It is faith, that voluntary repose in the ideas that\nnaturally come to us, because through these only we can fulfil our\ndestiny; which sets its seal on knowledge, and raises to conviction, to\ncertainty, what, without it, might be sheer delusion. It is not\nknowledge, but a resolve to commit one's self to knowledge. No merely\nverbal distinction this, but a true and deep one, charged with momentous\nconsequences to the whole character. All conviction is of faith, and\nproceeds from the heart, not from the understanding. Knowing this, I\nwill enter into no controversy, for I foresee that in this way nothing\ncan be gained. I will not endeavor, by reasoning, to press my conviction\non others, nor will I be discouraged if such an attempt should fail. My\nmode of thinking I have adopted for myself, not for others, and to\nmyself only need I justify it. Whoever has the same upright intention\nwill also attain the same or a similar conviction, and without it that\nis impossible. Now that I know this, I know also from what point all\nculture of myself and others must proceed; from the will, and not from\nthe understanding. Let but the first be steadily directed toward the\ngood, the last will of itself apprehend the true. Should the last be\nexercised and developed, while the first remains neglected, nothing can\nresult but a facility in vain and endless refinements of sophistry. In\nfaith I possess the test of all truth and all conviction; truth\noriginates in the conscience, and what contradicts its authority, or\nmakes us unwilling or incapable of rendering obedience to it, is most\ncertainly false, even should I be unable to discover the fallacies\nthrough which it is reached.... What unity, what completeness and\ndignity, our human nature receives from this view! Our thought is not\nbased on itself, independently of our instincts and inclinations. Man\ndoes not consist of two beings running parallel to each other; he is\nabsolutely one. Our entire system of thought is founded on intuition; as\nis the heart of the individual, so is his knowledge.\"\n\n\"The everlasting world now rises before me more brightly, and the\nfundamental laws of its order are more clearly revealed to my mental\nvision. The will alone, lying hid from mortal eyes in the obscurest\ndepths of the soul, is the first link in a chain of consequences that\nstretches through the invisible realm of spirit, as, in this terrestrial\nworld, the action itself, a certain movement communicated to matter, is\nthe first link in a material chain that encircles the whole system. The\nwill is the effective cause, the living principle of the world of\nspirit, as motion is of the world of sense. The will is in itself a\nconstituent part of the transcendental world. By my free determination I\nchange and set in motion something in this transcendental world, and my\nenergy gives birth to an effect that is new, permanent, and\nimperishable. Let this will find expression in a practical deed, and\nthis deed belongs to the world of sense and produces effects according\nto the virtue it contains.\"\n\nThis is the stoical aspect of the doctrine. The softer side of it\nappears throughout the book that is entitled \"The Way towards the\nBlessed Life.\" We quote a few passages from the many the eloquence\nwhereof does no more than justice to the depth of sentiment:\n\n\"Full surely there is a blessedness beyond the grave for those who have\nalready entered on it here, and in no other form than that wherein they\nknow it here, at any moment. By mere burial man arrives not at bliss;\nand in the future life, throughout its whole infinite range, they will\nseek for happiness as vainly as they sought it here, who seek it in\naught else than that which so closely surrounds them here--the\nInfinite.\"\n\n\"Religion consists herein, that man in his own person, with his own\nspiritual eye, immediately beholds and possesses God. This, however, is\npossible through pure independent thought alone; for only through this\ndoes man assume real personality, and this alone is the eye to which God\nbecomes visible. Pure thought is itself the divine existence; and\nconversely, the divine existence, in its immediate essence, is nothing\nelse than pure thought.\"\n\n\"The truly religious man conceives of his world as action, which,\nbecause it is his world, he alone creates, in which alone he can live\nand find satisfaction. This action he does not will for the sake of\nresults in the world of sense; he is in no respect anxious in regard to\nresults, for he lives in action simply as action; he wills it because it\nis the will of God in him, and his own peculiar portion in being.\"\n\n\"As to those in whom the will of God is not inwardly\naccomplished,--because there is no inward life in them, for they are\naltogether outward,--upon them the will of God is wrought as alone it\ncan be; appearing at first sight bitter and ungracious, though in\nreality merciful and loving in the highest degree. To those who do not\nlove God, all things must work together immediately for pain and\ntorment, until, by means of the tribulation, they are led to salvation\nat last.\"\n\nLanguage like this from less earnest lips might be deceptive; but from\nthe lips of a teacher like Fichte it tells of the solid grandeurs that\nfaithful men possess in the ideal creations of their souls; the\nhabitableness of air-castles.\n\n\nSCHELLING.\n\nThe chief sources from which the transcendental philosophy came from\nGermany to America have been indicated. The traces of Jacobi and Fichte\nare broad and distinct on the mind of the New World. Of Schelling little\nneed be said, for his works were not translated into English, and the\nFrench translation of the \"Transcendental Idealism\" was not announced\ntill 1850, when the movement in New England was subsiding. His system\nwas too abstract and technical in form to interest any but his\ncountrymen. Coleridge was fascinated by it, and yielded to the\nfascination so far as to allow the thoughts of the German metaphysician\nto take possession of his mind; but for Coleridge, indeed, few\nEnglish-speaking men would have known what the system was.\nTranscendentalism in New England was rather spiritual and practical than\nmetaphysical. Jacobi and Fichte were both; it can scarcely be said that\nSchelling was either. His books were hard; his ideas underwent continual\nchanges in detail; his speculative system was developed gradually in a\nlong course of years. But for certain grandiose conceptions which had a\ncharm for the imagination and fascinated the religious sentiment, his\nname need not be mentioned in this little incidental record at all.\nThere was, however, in Schelling something that recalled the ideal side\nof Plato, more that suggested Plotinus, the neo-Platonists and\nAlexandrines, a mystical pantheistic quality that mingled well with the\ngeneral elements of Idealism, and gave atmosphere, as it were, to the\ntender feeling of Jacobi and the heroic will of Fichte.\n\nSchelling was Fichte's disciple, filled his vacant chair in Jena in\n1798, and took his philosophical departure from certain of his\npositions. Fichte had shut the man up close in himself, had limited the\nconception of the world by the boundaries of consciousness, had reduced\nthe inner universe to a full-orbed creation, made its facts substantial\nand its fancies solid, peopled it with living forces, and found room in\nit for the exercise of a complete moral and spiritual life. In his\nsystem the soul was creator. The outer universe had its being in human\nthought. Subject and object were one, and that one was the subject.\n\nSchelling restored the external world to its place as an objective\nreality, no fiction, no projection from the human mind. Subject and\nobject, in his view, were one, but in the ABSOLUTE, the universal soul,\nthe infinite and eternal mind. His original fire mist was the\nunorganized intelligence of which the universe was the expression.\nFinite minds are but phases of manifestation of the infinite mind,\ninlets into which it flows, some deeper, wider, longer than others.\nSpirit and matter are reverse aspects of being. Spirit is invisible\nnature, nature invisible spirit. Starting from nature, we may work our\nway into intelligence; starting from intelligence, we may work our way\nout to nature. Thought and existence having the same ground, ideal and\nreal being one, the work of philosophy is twofold--from nature to arrive\nat spirit, from spirit to arrive at nature. They who wish to know how\nSchelling did it must consult the histories of philosophy; the most\npopular of them will satisfy all but the experts. It is easy to\nconjecture into what mysterious ways the clue might lead, and in what\nwilderness of thickets the reader might be lost; how in mind we are to\nsee nature struggling upward into consciousness, and in nature mind\nseeking endless forms of finite expression. To unfold both processes, in\nuniform and balanced movement, avoiding pantheism on one side, and\nmaterialism on the other, was the endeavor we shall not attempt, even in\nthe most cursory manner, to describe. God becomes conscious in man, the\nphilosophic man, the man of reason, in whom the absolute being\nrecognizes himself. The reason gazes immediately on the eternal\nrealities, by virtue of what was called \"intellectual intuition,\" which\nbeholds both subject and object as united in a single thought. Reason\nwas impersonal, no attribute of the finite intelligence, no fact of the\nindividual consciousness, but a faculty, if that be the word for it,\nthat transcended all finite experience, commanded a point superior to\nconsciousness, was, in fact, the all-seeing eye confronting itself. What\nroom here for intellectual rovers! What mystic groves for ecstatic souls\nto lose themselves in! What intricate mazes for those who are fond of\nhunting phantoms! Flashes of dim glory from this tremendous speculation\nare seen in the writings of Emerson, Parker, Alcott, and other seers,\nprobably caught by reflection, or struck out, as they were by Schelling\nhimself, by minds moving on the same level. In Germany the lines of\nspeculation were carried out in labyrinthine detail, as, fortunately,\nthey were not elsewhere.\n\nOf Hegel, the successor in thought of Schelling, there is no call here\nto speak at all. His speculation, though influential in America, as\ninfluential as that of either of his predecessors, was scarcely known\nthirty-five years ago, and if it had been, would have possessed little\ncharm for idealists of the New England stamp. That system has borne\nfruits of a very different quality, being adopted largely by churchmen,\nwhom it has justified and fortified in their ecclesiastical forms,\ndoctrinal and sacramental, and by teachers of moderately progressive\ntendencies. The duty of unfolding his ideas has devolved upon students\nof German, as no other language has given them anything like adequate\nexpression. Hegel, too, was more formidable than Schelling; the latter\nwas brilliant, dashing, imaginative, glowing; his ideas shone in the\nair, and were caught with little toil by enthusiastic minds. To\ncomprehend or even to apprehend Hegel requires more philosophical\nculture than was found in New England half a century ago, more than is\nby any means common to-day. Modern speculative philosophy is, as a rule,\nHegelian. Its spirit is conservative, and it scarcely at all lends\ncountenance to movements so revolutionary as those that shook New\nEngland.\n\nLong before the time we are dealing with--as early as 1824--the\nphilosophy of Hegel had struck hands with church and state in Prussia;\nHegel was at once prophet, priest, and prince. In the fulness of his\npowers, ripe in ability and in fame, he sat in the chair that Fichte had\noccupied, and gave laws to the intellectual world. He would \"teach\nphilosophy to talk German, as Luther had taught the Bible to do.\" A\ncrowd of enthusiasts thronged about him. The scientific and literary\ncelebrities of Berlin sat at his feet; state officials attended his\nlectures and professed themselves his disciples. The government provided\nliberally for his salary, and paid the travelling expenses of this great\nambassador of the mind. The old story of disciple become master was told\nagain. The philosopher was the friend of those that befriended him; the\nservant, some say, of those that lavished on him honors. Then the new\nphilosophy that was to reconstruct the mental world learned to accept\nthe actual world as it existed, and lent its powerful aid to the order\nof things it promised to reconstruct. Throwing out the aphorism, \"The\nrational is the actual, the actual is the rational,\" Hegel declared that\nnatural right, morality, and even religion are properly subordinated to\nauthority. The despotic Prussian system welcomed the great philosopher\nas its defender. The Prussian Government was not tardy in showing\nappreciation of its advocate's eminent services.\n\nThe church, taking the hint, put in its claim to patronage. It needed\nprotection against the rationalism that was coming up; and such\nprotection the majesty of Hegel vouchsafed to offer. Faith and\nphilosophy formed a new alliance. Orthodox professors gave in their\nloyalty to the man who taught that \"God was in process of becoming,\" and\nthe man who taught that \"God was in process of becoming\" welcomed the\northodox professors to the circle of his disciples. He was more orthodox\nthan the orthodox; he gave the theologians new explanations of their own\ndogmas, and supplied them with arguments against their own foes.\nTrinity, incarnation, atonement, redemption, were all interpreted and\njustified, to the complete satisfaction of the ecclesiastical powers.\n\nThis being the influence of the master, and of philosophy as he\nexplained it, the formation of a new school by the earnest, liberal men\nwho drew very different conclusions from the master's first principles,\nwas to be expected. But the \"New Hegelians,\" as they were called, became\ndisbelievers in religion and in spiritual things altogether, and either\nlapsed, like Strauss, into intellectual scepticism, or, like Feuerbach,\nbecame aggressive materialists. The ideal elements in Hegel's system\nwere appropriated by Christianity, and were employed against liberty and\nprogress. Spiritualists, whether in the old world or the new, had little\ninterest in a philosophy that so readily favored two opposite\ntendencies, both of which they abhorred. To them the spiritual\nphilosophy was represented by Hegel's predecessors. The disciples of\nsentiment accepted Jacobi; the loyalists of conscience followed Fichte;\nthe severe metaphysicians, of whom there were a few, adhered to Kant;\nthe soaring speculators and imaginative theosophists spread their\n\"sheeny vans,\" and soared into the regions of the absolute with\nSchelling. The idealists of New England were largest debtors to Jacobi\nand Fichte.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM IN THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE.\n\n\nOne of the earliest students of the German language in Boston was Dr. N.\nL. Frothingham, Unitarian minister of the First Church. Among the\nprofessional books that interested him was one by Herder, \"Letters to a\nYoung Theologian,\" chapters from which he translated for the \"Christian\nDisciple,\" the precursor of the \"Christian Examiner.\" Of Herder, George\nBancroft wrote an account in the \"North American Review,\" and George\nRipley in the \"Christian Examiner.\" The second number of \"The Dial\"\ncontains a letter from Mr. Ripley to a theological student, in which\nthis particular book of Herder is warmly commended, as being worth the\ntrouble of learning German to read. The volume was remarkable for\nearnest enlightenment, its discernment of the spirit beneath the letter,\nits generous interpretations, and its suggestions of a better future for\nthe philosophy of religion. Herder was one of the illuminated minds;\nthough not professedly a disciple, he had felt the influence of Kant,\nand was cordially in sympathy with the men who were trying to break the\nspell of form and tradition. With Lessing more especially, Herder's\n\"Spirit of Hebrew Poetry,\" of which a translation by Dr. James Marsh was\npublished in 1833, found its way to New England, and helped to confirm\nthe disposition to seek the springs of inspiration in the human mind,\nwhence all poetry proceeded. The writer of the book, by applying to\nHebrew poetry the rules of critical appreciation by which all poetic\ncreations are judged, abolished so far the distinction between sacred\nand secular, and transferred to the credit of human genius the products\ncommonly ascribed to divine. In the persons of the great bards of Israel\nall bards were glorified; the soul's creative power was recognized, and\nwith it the heart of the transcendental faith.\n\nThe influence of Schleiermacher was even more distinct than that of\nHerder. One book of his, in particular, made a deep impression,--the\n\"Reden ueber Religion,\" published in 1799. The book is thus described by\nMr. George Ripley, in a controversial letter to Mr. Andrews Norton, who\nhad assailed Schleiermacher as an atheist. \"The 'Discourses on Religion'\nwere not intended to present a system of theology. They are highly\nrhetorical in manner, filled with bursts of impassioned eloquence,\nalways intense, and sometimes extravagant; addressed to the feelings,\nnot to speculation; and expressly disclaiming all pretensions to an\nexposition of doctrine. They were published at a time when hostility to\nreligion, and especially to Christianity as a divine revelation, was\ndeemed a proof of talent and refinement. The influence of the church was\nnearly exhausted; the highest efforts of thought were of a destructive\ncharacter; a frivolous spirit pervaded society; religion was deprived of\nits supremacy; and a 'starveling theology' was exalted in place of the\nliving word. Schleiermacher could not contemplate the wretched\nmeagreness and degradation of his age without being moved as by 'a\nheavenly impulse.' His spirit was stirred within him as he saw men\nturning from the true God to base idols. He felt himself impelled to go\nforth with the power of a fresh and youthful enthusiasm, for the\nrestoration of religion; to present it in its most sublime aspect, free\nfrom its perversions, disentangled from human speculation, as founded in\nthe essential nature of man, and indispensable to the complete unfolding\nof his inward being. In order to recognize everything which is really\nreligious among men, and to admit even the lowest degree of it into the\nidea of religion, he wishes to make this as broad and comprehensive in\nits character as possible.\" In illustration of this purpose Mr. Ripley\nquotes the author as follows: \"I maintain that piety is the necessary\nand spontaneous product of the depths of every elevated nature; that it\npossesses a rightful claim to a peculiar province in the soul, over\nwhich it may exercise an unlimited sovereignty; that it is worthy, by\nits intrinsic power, to be a source of life to the most noble and\nexalted minds; and that from its essential character it deserves to be\nknown and received by them. These are the points which I defend, and\nwhich I would fain establish.\"\n\nFrom this it will appear that Schleiermacher gave countenance to the\nspiritual aspect of transcendentalism, and co-operated with the general\nmovement it represented. His position that religion was not a system of\ndogmas, but an inward experience; that it was not a speculation, but a\nfeeling; that its primal verities rested not on miracle or tradition,\nnot on the Bible letter or on ecclesiastical institution, but on the\nsoul's own sense of things divine; that this sense belonged by nature to\nthe human race, and gave to all forms of religion such genuineness as\nthey had; that all affirmation was partial, and all definition\ndeceptive; proved to be practically the same with that taken by Jacobi,\nand was so received by the disciples of the new philosophy.\n\nBut Schleiermacher was an Evangelical Lutheran, a believer in\nsupernatural religion, in Christ, in Christianity as a special\ndispensation, in the miracles of the New Testament. So far from being a\n\"rationalist,\" he was the most formidable opponent that \"rationalism\"\nhad; for his efforts were directed against the critical and theological\nmethod, and in support of the spiritual method of dealing with religious\ntruths. In explaining religion as being in its primitive character a\nsense of divine things in the soul, and as having its seat, not in\nknowledge, nor yet in action, neither in theology nor in morality, but\nin feeling, in aspiration, longing, love, veneration, conscious\ndependence, filial trust, he deprived \"rationalism\" of its strength.\nHence his attraction for liberal orthodox believers in America.\nSchleiermacher had as many disciples among the Congregationalists as\namong their antagonists of the opposite school. Professors Edwards and\nPark included thoughts of his in their \"Selections from German\nLiterature.\" The pulpit transcendentalists acknowledged their\nindebtedness to him, and the debt they acknowledged was sentimental\nrather than intellectual. They thanked him for the spirit of fervent\npiety, deep, cordial, human, unlimited in generosity, untrammelled by\nlogical distinctions, rather than for new light on philosophical\nproblems. His bursts of eloquent enthusiasm over men whom the church\noutlawed--Spinoza for example--made amends with them for the absence of\ndoctrinal exactness. A warm sympathy with those who detached religion\nfrom dogma, and recognized the religious sentiment under its most\ndiverse forms, was characteristic of the new spirit that burned in New\nEngland. Schleiermacher was one of the first and foremost to encourage\nsuch sympathy: he based it on the idea that man was by nature religious,\nendowed with spiritual faculties, and that was welcome tidings; and\nthough he retained the essence of the evangelical system, he retained it\nin a form that could be dropped without injury to the principle by which\nit was justified. Thus Schleiermacher strengthened the very positions he\nassailed, and gave aid and comfort to the enemy he would overthrow. The\ntranscendentalists, it is true, employed against the \"rationalists\" the\nweapons that he put into their hands. At the same time they left as\nunimportant the theological system which his weapons were manufactured\nto support.\n\nBut it was through the literature of Germany that the transcendental\nphilosophy chiefly communicated itself. Goethe, Richter and Novalis were\nmore persuasive teachers than Kant, Jacobi or Fichte. To those who\ncould not read German these authors were interpreted by Thomas Carlyle,\nwho took up the cause of German philosophy and literature, and wrote\nabout them with passionate power in the English reviews; not contenting\nhimself with giving surface accounts of them, but plunging boldly into\nthe depths, and carrying his readers with him through discussions that,\nbut for his persuasive eloquence, would have had little charm to\nordinary minds. Goethe and Richter were his heroes: their methods and\nopinions are of the greatest account with him; and he leaves nothing\nunexplained of the intellectual foundations on which they builded.\nConsequently in the remarkable papers that Carlyle wrote about them and\ntheir books, full report is given of the place held by the Kantean\nphilosophy in their culture. The article on Novalis, in the \"Foreign\nReview\" of 1829, No. 7, presents with a master hand the peculiarities of\nthe new metaphysics that were regenerating the German mind. Regenerating\nis not too strong a word for the influence that he ascribes to it. Thus\nin 1827 he wrote in the \"Edinburgh Review:\"\n\n\"The critical philosophy has been regarded by persons of approved\njudgment, and nowise directly implicated in the furthering of it, as\ndistinctly the greatest intellectual achievement of the century in which\nit came to light. August Wilhelm Schlegel has stated in plain terms his\nbelief that in respect of its probable influence on the moral culture of\nEurope, it stands on a line with the Reformation. We mention Schlegel as\na man whose opinion has a known value among ourselves. But the worth of\nKant's philosophy is not to be gathered from votes alone. The noble\nsystem of morality, the purer theology, the lofty views of man's nature\nderived from it; nay, perhaps the very discussion of such matters, to\nwhich it gave so strong an impetus, have told with remarkable and\nbeneficial influence on the whole spiritual character of Germany. No\nwriter of any importance in that country, be he acquainted or not with\nthe critical philosophy, but breathes a spirit of devoutness and\nelevation more or less directly drawn from it. Such men as Goethe and\nSchiller cannot exist without effect in any literature or any century;\nbut if one circumstance more than another has contributed to forward\ntheir endeavors and introduce that higher tone into the literature of\nGermany, it has been this philosophical system, to which, in wisely\nbelieving its results, or even in wisely denying them, all that was\nlofty and pure in the genius of poetry or the reason of man so readily\nallied itself.\"\n\nAfter quoting from \"Meister's Apprenticeship\" a noble passage on the\nspiritual function of art, Carlyle comments thus: \"To adopt such\nsentiments into his sober practical persuasion; in any measure to feel\nand believe that such was still and must always be, the high vocation of\nthe poet; on this ground of universal humanity, of ancient and now\nalmost forgotten nobleness, to take his stand, even in these trivial,\njeering, withered, unbelieving days, and through all their complex,\ndispiriting, mean, yet tumultuous influences, to make his light shine\nbefore men that it might beautify even our rag-gathering age with some\nbeams of that mild divine splendor which had long left us, the very\npossibility of which was denied; heartily and in earnest to meditate all\nthis was no common proceeding; to bring it into practice, especially in\nsuch a life as his has been, was among the highest and hardest\nenterprises which any man whatever could engage in.\"\n\nFrom Schiller's correspondence with Goethe, Carlyle quotes the following\ntribute to the Kantean philosophy: \"From the opponents of the new\nphilosophy I expect not that tolerance which is shown to every other\nsystem no better seen into than this; for Kant's philosophy itself, in\nits leading points, practises no tolerance, and bears much too rigorous\na character to leave any room for accommodation. But in my eyes this\ndoes it honor, proving how little it can endure to have truth tampered\nwith. Such a philosophy will not be shaken to pieces by a mere shake of\nthe head. In the open, clear, accessible field of inquiry it builds up\nits system, seeks no shade, makes no reservation, but even as it treats\nits neighbors, so it requires to be treated, and may be forgiven for\nlightly esteeming everything but proofs. Nor am I terrified to think\nthat the law of change, from which no human and no divine work finds\ngrace, will operate on this philosophy as on every other, and one day\nits form will be destroyed, but its foundations will not have this fate\nto fear, for ever since mankind has existed, and any reason among\nmankind, these same first principles have been admitted, and on the\nwhole, acted on.\"\n\nOf Richter he writes: \"Richter's philosophy, a matter of no ordinary\ninterest, both as it agrees with the common philosophy of Germany, and\ndisagrees with it, must not be touched on for the present. One only\nobservation we shall make: it is not mechanical or sceptical; it springs\nnot from the forum or the laboratory, but from the depths of the human\nspirit, and yields as its fairest product a noble system of morality,\nand the firmest conviction of religion. An intense and continual faith\nin man's immortality and native grandeur accompanies him; from amid the\nvortices of life he looks up to a heavenly loadstar; the solution of\nwhat is visible and transient, he finds in what is invisible and\neternal. He has doubted, he denies, yet he believes.\"\n\nOf Novalis, scarcely more than a name to Americans, the same oracle\nspeaks thus: \"The aim of Novalis' whole philosophy is to preach and\nestablish the majesty of reason, in the strict philosophical sense; to\nconquer for it all provinces of human thought, and everywhere resolve\nits vassal understanding into fealty, the right and only useful relation\nfor it. How deeply these and the like principles (those of the Kantean\nphilosophy) had impressed themselves on Novalis, we see more and more\nthe further we study his writings. Naturally a deep, religious,\ncontemplative spirit, purified also by harsh affliction, and familiar in\nthe 'Sanctuary of Sorrow,' he comes before us as the most ideal of all\nidealists. For him the material creation is but an appearance, a typical\nshadow in which the Deity manifests himself to man. Not only has the\nunseen world a reality, but the only reality; the rest being not\nmetaphorically, but literally and in scientific strictness, 'a show;'\nin the words of the poet:\n\n    'Sound and smoke overclouding the splendor of heaven!'\n\nThe invisible world is near us; or rather, it is here, in us and about\nus; were the fleshly coil removed from our soul, the glories of the\nunseen were even now around us, as the ancients fabled of the spheral\nmusic. Thus, not in word only, but in truth and sober belief he feels\nhimself encompassed by the Godhead; feels in every thought that 'in Him\nhe lives, moves, and has his being.'\"\n\nThese declarations from a man who was becoming prominent in the world of\nliterature, and whose papers were widely and enthusiastically read, had\ngreat weight with people to whom the German was an unknown tongue. But\nit was not an unknown tongue to all, and they who had mastered it were\nactive communicators of its treasures. Carlyle's efforts at interesting\nEnglish readers through his remarkable translation of Wilhelm Meister,\nand the \"Specimens of German Romance,\" which contained pieces by Tieck,\nJean Paul, Hoffmann, and Musaeus, published in 1827, were seconded here\nby F. H. Hedge, C. T. Brooks, J. S. Dwight, and others, who made\nfamiliar to the American public the choicest poems of the most famous\nGerman bards. Richter became well known by his \"Autobiography,\" \"Quintus\nFixlein,\" \"Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces,\" \"Hesperus,\" \"Titan,\" \"The\nCampaner Thal,\" the writings and versions of Madame de Stael. The third\nvolume of the \"Dial,\" July, 1841, opened with a remarkable paper on\nGoethe, by Margaret Fuller. The pages of the \"Dial\" abounded in\nreferences to Goethe's ideas and writings. No author occupied the\ncultivated New England mind as much as he did. None of these writers\ntaught formally the doctrines of the transcendental philosophy, but they\nreflected one or another aspect of it. They assumed its cardinal\nprinciples in historical and literary criticism, in dramatic art, in\npoetry and romance. They conveyed its spirit of aspiration after ideal\nstandards of perfection. They caught from it their judgments on society\nand religion. They communicated its aroma, and so imparted the\nquickening breath of its soul to people who would have started back in\nalarm from its doctrines.\n\nThe influence of the transcendental philosophy on German literature was\nfully conceded by Menzel, who, however, found little trace of it in\nGoethe. Of the author of the philosophy he wrote: \"Kant was very far\nfrom assenting to French infidelity and its immoral consequences. He\ndirected man to himself, to the moral law in his own bosom; and the\nfresh breath of life of the old Grecian dignity of man penetrates the\nwhole of his luminous philosophy.\" Of Goethe he wrote: \"If he ever\nacknowledged allegiance to a good spirit, to great ideas, to virtue, he\ndid it only because they had become the order of the day, for, on the\nother hand, he has, again, served every weakness, vanity and folly, if\nthey were but looked on with favor at the time; in short, like a good\nplayer, he has gone through all the parts.\" Menzel's book was\ntranslated by a man who had no sympathy with Transcendentalism--Prof. C.\nC. Felton; was admired by people of his own school, and was sharply\ncriticised, especially in the portions relating to Goethe, by the\ntranscendentalists, who accepted Carlyle's view. He and they put the\nmost generous interpretations on the masterpieces of the poet, passed by\nas incidental, did not see, or in their own mind transfigured, the\nobjectionable features that Menzel seized on. Too little was ascribed to\nthe foreign French element that reached the literature of Germany\nthrough Prussia--to Rousseau, Voltaire, Diderot--whose ideas fell in\nwith the unworthier sceptical tendencies of the Kantean system, and\npolluted the waters of that clear, cold stream; too much was ascribed to\nthe noble idealism that was credited with power to glorify all it\ntouched, and redeem even low things from degradation. If therefore they\napologized for what the sensational moralists blamed, they did it in\ngood faith, not as excusing the indecency, but as surmounting it. What\nthey admired was the art, and the aspiration it expressed. The devotees\nof the French spirit, in its frivolity and meretricious beauty, they\nturned away from with disdain. There was enough of the nobler kind to\nengage them. When they went to France they went for what France had in\ncommon with Germany--an idealism of the wholesome, ethical and spiritual\ntype, which, whether German, French or English, bore always the same\ncharacteristics of beauty and nobleness. Much that was unspiritual, all\nthat was merely speculative, they passed by. With an appetite for the\ngenerous and inspiring only, they sought the really earnest teachers, of\nwhom in France there were a few. The influence of those few was great in\nproportion to their fewness probably, quite as much as to their merit as\nphilosophers.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM IN FRANCE.\n\n\nFrom the time of Malebranche, who died in 1715, to Maine de Biran,\nRoyer-Collard, Ampere and Cousin, a period of about a century,\nphilosophy in France had not borne an honorable name. The French mind\nwas active; philosophy was a profession; the philosophical world was\nlarger than in Germany, where it was limited to the Universities. But\nFrance took no lead in speculation, it waited to receive impulse from\nother lands; and even then, instead of taking up the impulse and\ncarrying it on with original and sympathetic force, it was content to\nexhibit and reproduce it. The office of expositor, made easy by the\nperspicacity of its intellect and the flexibility of its language, was\naccepted and discharged with a cleverness that was recognized by all\nEurope. Its histories of philosophy, translations, expositions,\nreproductions, were admirable for neatness and clearness. The most\nobscure systems became intelligible in that limpid and lucid speech,\nwhich reported with faultless dexterity the agile movements of the\nGallic mind, and made popular the most abstruse doctrines of\nmetaphysics. German philosophy in its original dress was outlandish,\neven to practised students in German. The readers of French were many in\nEngland and the United States, and the readers of French, without\nsevere labor on their part, were put in possession of the essential\nideas of the deep thinkers of the race. The best accounts of human\nspeculation are in French. Barthelemy Saint Hilaire interprets\nAristotle, and throws important light on Indian Philosophy; Bouillet\ntranslates Plotinus; Emil Saisset translates Spinoza; Tissot and Jules\nBarni perform the same service for Kant; Jules Simon and Etienne\nVacherot undertake to make intelligible the School of Alexandria; Paul\nJanet explains the dialectics of Plato; Adolphe Franck deals with the\nJewish Kabbala; Charles de Remusat with Anselm, Abelard and Bacon; MM.\nHaureau and Rousselot with the philosophy of the middle age; M. Chauvet\nwith the theories of the human understanding in antiquity. Cousin\npublished unedited works of Proclus, analyzed the commentaries of\nOlympiodorus on the Platonic dialogues, made a complete translation of\nPlato, admirable for clearness and strength, and proposed to present,\nnot of course with his own hand, but by the hands of friendly\nfellow-workers, and under his own direction, examples of whatever was\nbest in every philosophical system. The philosophical work of France is\nably summed up in the report on \"Philosophy in France in the nineteenth\ncentury,\" presented by Felix Ravaisson, member of the Institute, and\npublished in 1868, under the auspices of the Ministry of Public\nInstruction.\n\nThe ideas of Locke were brought from London to Paris by Voltaire, who\nbecame acquainted with them during a residence in England, and found\nthem effective in his warfare against the ecclesiastical institutions of\nhis country. Through his brilliant interpretations and keen\napplications, they gained currency, became fashionable among the wits,\nwere domesticated with people of culture and elegance, and worked their\nway into the religion and politics of the time. It is needless to say\nthat in his hands full justice was done to their external and material\naspects.\n\nThe system found a more exact and methodical expounder in Condillac,\nwho reduced it to greater simplicity by eliminating from it what in the\noriginal marred its unity, namely reflection, the bent of the mind back\non itself, whereby it took cognizance of impressions made by the outer\nworld. Taking what remained of the system, the notion that all knowledge\ncame primarily through the senses, and drawing the conclusion that the\nmind itself was a product of sensation, Condillac fashioned a doctrine\nwhich had the merit, such as it was, of utter intelligibleness to the\nleast instructed mind; a system of materialism naked and unadorned. If\nhe himself forbore to push his principle to its extreme results,\ndeclining to assert that we were absolutely nothing else than products\nof sensation, and surmising that beneath the layers of intelligence and\nreason there might lurk a principle that sensation could not account\nfor, something stable in the midst of the ceaseless instability,\nsomething absolute below everything relative, which might be called\naction or will, the popular interpretation of his philosophy took no\naccount of such subtleties. In vain did his disciple Destutt de Tracy\ndeclare that \"the principle of movement is the will, and that the will\nis the person, the man himself.\" The fascination of simplicity proved\nmore than a match for nicety of distinction, and both were ranked among\nmaterialists.\n\nCabanis was at no pains to conceal the most repulsive features of the\nsystem. In his work, \"The Relations of the Physical and the Moral in\nMan,\" he maintained bluntly the theory that there was no spiritual being\napart from the body; that mind had no substance, no separate existence\nof its own, but was in all its parts and qualities a product of the\nnervous system; that sensibility of every kind, sentimental,\nintelligent, moral, spiritual, including the whole domain of conscious\nand unconscious vitality, was a nervous manifestation; that man was\ncapable of sensation because he had nerves; that he was what he was\nbecause of the wondrous character of the mechanism of sensation; that,\nin a word, the perfection of organization was the perfection of\nhumanity. It was Cabanis who said \"the brain secretes thought as the\nliver secretes bile.\" Cabanis modified his philosophy before his death,\nbut without effect to break the force of his cardinal positions. The\nresults of such teaching appeared in a morality of selfishness, tending\nto self-indulgence--a morality destitute of nobleness and sweetness,\nsumming up its lessons in the maxims that good is good to eat; that the\npleasurable thing is right, the painful thing wrong; that success is the\nmeasure of rectitude; that the aim of life is the attainment of\nhappiness, and that happiness means physical enjoyment; that virtue and\nvice are names for prudence and for folly,--Virtue being conformity with\nthe ways of the world, Vice being non-conformity with the ways of the\nworld; no ideal standard being recognized for the one, no law of\nrectitude being confessed for the other. Conscience was regarded as an\nartificial habit created by custom or acquiesced in from tradition; the\n\"categorical imperative\" was pronounced the dogmatism of the fanatic.\n\nFrom such principles atheism naturally proceeded. Atheism not of opinion\nmerely, but of sentiment and feeling; for at that time \"the potencies\"\nof matter impressed no such awe upon the mind as they have done since;\nthe \"mystery of matter\" was unfelt; physiology was an unexplored region;\nthe materialist simply denied spirit, putting a blank where believers in\nreligion had been used to find a soul; and had no alternative but to run\nsensationalism into sensualism, and to give the senses the flavor of the\nground. With us the sensational philosophy has become refined into a\nphilosophy of experience, and the materialist finds himself in a region\nwhere to distinguish between matter and spirit is difficult, to say the\nleast. But a hundred years ago matter was clod, and the passion it\nengendered smelt of the charnel-house. The morbid insanities of the\nrevolution, the orgies in which blood and wine ran together, the savage\nglee, the delirium that ensued when the uncertainty of life acting on\nthe impulse to enjoy life while it lasted, made men ferocious in\nclutching at immediate pleasure, attest the consequences that ensued\nfrom such frank adoption of the sensational philosophy as was practised\namong the French. Locke was a man of piety, which even his warmest\napologists will hardly claim for Voltaire. The English mind, grave and\nthoughtful, trained by religious institutions in religious beliefs, was\nless inclined than the French to drive speculative theories to extreme\nconclusions. The philosophy of sensationalism culminated, not in the\nFrench Revolution, as has been vulgarly asserted, but in the unbelief\nand sensual extravagance that marked one phase of it.\n\nIn this there was nothing original; there was no originality in the\nreaction that followed, and gave to modern philosophy in France its\nspiritual character. Laromiguiere, educated in the school of Condillac,\nimproved on the suggestion that Condillac had given, and deepened into a\nchasm the scratch he had made to indicate a distinction between the\nresults of sensation and the faculties of the mind. In his analysis of\nthe mental constitution he came upon two facts that denoted an original\nactivity in advance of sensation--namely, _attention_ and _desire_: the\nformer the root of the intellectual, the latter of the moral powers;\nboth at last resolvable into one principle--attention. This discovery\nmet with wide and cordial welcome, the popularity of Laromiguiere's\nlectures, delivered in 1811, 1812, 1813, revealing the fact that\nthoughtful people were prepared for a new metaphysical departure.\n\nMaine de Biran, who more than the rest deserves the name of an original\ninvestigator, a severe, solitary, independent thinker, pupil of no\nschool and founder of none, brought into strong relief the activity of\nthe intellect. Thought, he maintained, proceeds from will, which is at\nthe base of the personality, is, in fact, the essence of personality.\nThe primary fact is volition. Descartes said, \"I think, therefore I am.\"\nMaine de Biran said, \"I will, therefore I am.\" \"In every one of my\ndeterminations,\" he declared, \"I recognize myself as being a cause\nanterior to its effect and capable of surviving it. I behold myself as\noutside of the movement I produce, and independent of time; for this\nreason, strictly speaking, I do not _become_, I really and absolutely\n_am_.\" \"To be, to act, to will, are the same thing under different\nnames.\" Will as the seat of activity; will as the core of personality;\nwill as the soul of causation: here is the corner-stone for a new\nstructure to replace the old one of the \"Cyclopaedists.\" Important\ndeductions followed from such a first principle; the dignity of the\nmoral being, freedom of the moral will, the nobility of existence, the\npersistency of the individual as a ground for continuous effort and\nfar-reaching hope, the spirituality of man and his destiny. To recover\nthe will from the mass of sensations that had buried it out of sight,\nwas the achievement of this philosopher. It was an achievement by which\nphilosophy was disengaged from physics, and sent forth on a more\ncheerful way.\n\nThe next steps were taken by disciples of the Scotch\nschool--Royer-Collard, Victor Cousin and Theodore Jouffroy. The last\ntranslated Reid and Stewart from English into French; the two former\nlectured on them. The three, being masters of clear and persuasive\nspeech, made their ideas popular in France. Cousin's lectures on the\nScotch school, including Reid, were delivered in 1819. The lectures on\nKant were given in 1820. Both courses were full and adequate. Cousin\ncommitted himself to neither, but freely criticised both, laying stress\non the sceptical aspect of the transcendental system as expounded by\nKant.\n\nCousin's own system was the once famous, now discarded eclecticism,\nunder cover of which another phase of idealism was presented which found\nfavor in America. The cardinal principle of eclecticism was that truth\nwas contained in no system or group of systems, but in all together;\nthat each had its portion and made its contribution; and that the true\nphilosophy would be reached by a process of intellectual distillation by\nwhich the essential truth in each would be extracted. A method like this\nwould have nothing to recommend it but its generosity, if there were no\ncriterion by which truths could be tested, no philosophical principle,\nin short, to govern the selection of materials. Eclecticism must have a\nphilosophy before proceeding to make one, must have arrived at its\nconclusion before entering on its process. And this it did. It will be\nseen by the following extracts from his writings what the fundamental\nideas of M. Cousin were, and in what respect they aided the process of\nrationalism.\n\nThe quotations are from his exposition of eclecticism:\n\n     \"Facts are the point of departure, if not the limit of philosophy.\n     Now facts, whatever they may be, exist for us only as they come to\n     our consciousness. It is there alone that observation seizes them\n     and describes them, before committing them to induction, which\n     forces them to reveal the consequences which they contain in their\n     bosom. The field of philosophical observation is consciousness;\n     there is no other; but in this nothing is to be neglected;\n     everything is important, for everything is connected; and if one\n     part be wanting, complete unity is unattainable. To return within\n     our consciousness, and scrupulously to study all the phenomena,\n     their differences and their relations--this is the primary study of\n     philosophy. Its scientific name is psychology. Psychology is then\n     the condition and, as it were, the vestibule of philosophy. The\n     psychological method consists in completely retiring within the\n     world of consciousness, in order to become familiar in that sphere\n     where all is reality, but where the reality is so various and so\n     delicate; and the psychological talent consists in placing\n     ourselves at will within this interior world, in presenting the\n     spectacle there displayed to ourselves, and in reproducing freely\n     and distinctly all the facts which are accidentally and confusedly\n     brought to our notice by the circumstances of life.\"...\n\n     \"The first duty of the psychological method is to retire within the\n     field of consciousness, where there is nothing but phenomena, that\n     are all capable of being perceived and judged by observation. Now\n     as no substantial existence falls under the eye of consciousness,\n     it follows that the first effect of a rigid application of method\n     is to postpone the subject of ontology. It postpones it, I say, but\n     does not destroy it. It is a fact, indeed, attested by observation,\n     that in this same consciousness, in which there is nothing but\n     phenomena, there are found notions, whose regular development\n     passes the limits of consciousness and attains the knowledge of\n     actual existences. Would you stop the development of these notions?\n     You would then arbitrarily limit the compass of a fact, you would\n     attack this fact itself, and thus shake the authority of all other\n     facts. We must either call in question the authority of\n     consciousness in itself, or admit this authority without reserve\n     for all the facts attested by consciousness. The reason is no less\n     certain and real than the will or the sensibility; its certainty\n     once admitted we must follow it wherever it rigorously conducts,\n     though it be even into the depths of ontology. For example, it is a\n     rational fact attested by consciousness, that in the view of\n     intelligence, every phenomenon which is presented supposes a cause.\n     It is a fact, moreover, that this principle of causality is marked\n     with the characteristics of universality and necessity. If it be\n     universal and necessary, to limit it would be to destroy it. Now in\n     the phenomenon of sensation, the principle of causality intervenes\n     universally and necessarily, and refers this phenomenon to a cause;\n     and our consciousness testifying that this cause is not the\n     personal cause which the will represents, it follows that the\n     principle of causality in its irresistible application conducts to\n     an impersonal cause, that is to say, to an external cause, which\n     subsequently, and always irresistibly, the principle of causality\n     enriches with the characteristics and laws, of which the aggregate\n     is the Universe. Here then is an existence; but an existence\n     revealed by a principle which is itself attested by consciousness.\n     Here is a primary step in ontology, but by the path of psychology,\n     that is to say, of observation. We are led by similar processes to\n     the Cause of all causes, to the substantial Cause, to God; and not\n     only to a God of Power, but to a God of Justice, a God of Holiness;\n     so that this experimental method, which, applied to a single order\n     of phenomena, incomplete and exclusive, destroyed ontology and the\n     higher elements of consciousness, applied with fidelity, firmness\n     and completeness, to all the phenomena, builds up that which it had\n     overthrown, and by itself furnishes ontology with a sure and\n     legitimate instrument. Thus, having commenced with modesty, we can\n     end with results whose certainty is equalled by their\n     importance.\"...\n\n     \"What physical inquirer, since Euler, seeks anything in nature but\n     forces and laws? Who now speaks of atoms? And even molecules, the\n     old atoms revived--who defends them as anything but an hypothesis?\n     If the fact be incontestable, if modern physics be now employed\n     only with forces and laws, I draw the rigorous conclusion from it,\n     that the science of Physics, whether it know it or not, is no\n     longer material, and that it became spiritual when it rejected\n     every other method than observation and induction, which can never\n     lead to aught but forces and laws. Now what is there material in\n     forces and laws? The physical sciences, then, themselves have\n     entered into the broad path of an enlightened spiritualism; and\n     they have only to march with a firm step, and to gain a more and\n     more profound knowledge of forces and laws, in order to arrive at\n     more important generalizations. Let us go still further. As it is a\n     law already recognized of the same reason which governs humanity\n     and nature, to refer every finite cause and every multiple\n     law--that is to say, every phenomenal cause and every phenomenal\n     law--to something absolute, which leaves nothing to be sought\n     beyond it in relation to existence, that is to say, to a substance;\n     so this law refers the external world composed of forces and laws\n     to a substance, which must needs be a cause in order to be the\n     subject of the causes of this world, which must needs be an\n     intelligence in order to be the subject of its laws; a substance,\n     in fine, which must needs be the identity of activity and\n     intelligence. We have thus arrived accordingly, for the second\n     time, by observation and induction in the external sphere, at\n     precisely the same point to which observation and induction have\n     successively conducted us in the sphere of personality and in that\n     of reason; consciousness in its triplicity is therefore one; the\n     physical and moral world is one, science is one, that is to say, in\n     other words, God is One.\"...\n\n     \"Having gained these heights, philosophy becomes more luminous as\n     well as more grand; universal harmony enters into human thought,\n     enlarges it, and gives it peace. The divorce of ontology and\n     psychology, of speculation and observation, of science and\n     common-sense, is brought to an end by a method which arrives at\n     speculation by observation, at ontology by psychology, in order\n     then to confirm observation by speculation, psychology by ontology,\n     and which starting from the immediate facts of consciousness, of\n     which the common-sense of the human race is composed, derives from\n     them the science which contains nothing more than common-sense, but\n     which elevates that to its purest and most rigid form, and enables\n     it to comprehend itself. But I here approach a fundamental point.\n\n     \"If every fact of consciousness contains all the human faculties,\n     sensibility, free activity, and reason, the me, the not-me, and\n     their absolute identity; and if every fact of consciousness be\n     equal to itself, it follows that every man who has the\n     consciousness of himself possesses and cannot but possess all the\n     ideas that are necessarily contained in consciousness. Thus every\n     man, if he knows himself, knows all the rest, nature and God at the\n     same time with himself. Every man believes in his own existence,\n     every man therefore believes in the existence of the world and of\n     God; every man thinks, every man therefore thinks God, if we may so\n     express it; every human proposition, reflecting the consciousness,\n     reflects the idea of unity and of being that is essential to\n     consciousness; every human proposition therefore contains God;\n     every man who speaks, speaks of God, and every word is an act of\n     faith and a hymn. Atheism is a barren formula, a negation without\n     reality, an abstraction of the mind which cannot assert itself\n     without self-destruction; for every assertion, even though\n     negative, is a judgment which contains the idea of being, and,\n     consequently, God in His fulness. Atheism is the illusion of a few\n     sophists, who place their liberty in opposition to their reason,\n     and are unable even to give an account to themselves of what they\n     think; but the human race, which is never false to its\n     consciousness and never places itself in contradiction to its laws,\n     possesses the knowledge of God, believes in him, and never ceases\n     to proclaim Him. In fact, the human race believes in reason and\n     cannot but believe in it, in that reason which is manifested in\n     consciousness, in a momentary relation with the me--the pure though\n     faint reflection of that primitive light which flows from the bosom\n     of the eternal substance, which is at once substance, cause,\n     intelligence. Without the manifestation of reason in our\n     consciousness, there could be no knowledge--neither psychological,\n     nor, still less, ontological. Reason is, in some sort, the bridge\n     between psychology and ontology, between consciousness and being;\n     it rests at the same time on both; it descends from God and\n     approaches man; it makes its appearance in the consciousness, as a\n     guest who brings intelligence of an unknown world of which it at\n     once presents the idea and awakens the want. If reason were\n     personal, it would have no value, no authority, beyond the limits\n     of the individual subject. If it remained in the condition of\n     primitive substance, without manifestation, it would be the same\n     for the me which would not know itself, as if it were not. It is\n     necessary therefore that the intelligent substance should manifest\n     itself; and this manifestation is the appearance of reason in the\n     consciousness. Reason then is literally a revelation, a necessary\n     and universal revelation, which is wanting to no man and which\n     enlightens every man on his coming into the world: _illuminat omnem\n     hominem venientem in hunc mundum_. Reason is the necessary mediator\n     between God and man, the [Greek: logos] of Pythagoras and Plato,\n     the Word made flesh which serves as the interpreter of God and the\n     teacher of man, divine and human at the same time. It is not,\n     indeed, the absolute God in his majestic individuality, but his\n     manifestation in spirit and in truth; it is not the Being of\n     beings, but it is the revealed God of the human race. As God is\n     never wanting to the human race and never abandons it, so the\n     human race believes in God with an irresistible and unalterable\n     faith, and this unity of faith is its own highest unity....\n\n     \"If these convictions of faith be combined in every act of\n     consciousness, and if consciousness be one in the whole human race,\n     whence arises the prodigious diversity which seems to exist between\n     man and man, and in what does this diversity consist? In truth,\n     when we perceive at first view so many apparent differences between\n     one individual and another, one country and another, one epoch of\n     humanity and another, we feel a profound emotion of melancholy, and\n     are tempted to regard an intellectual development so capricious,\n     and even the whole of humanity, as a phenomenon without\n     consistency, without grandeur, and without interest. But it is\n     demonstrated by a more attentive observation of facts, that no man\n     is a stranger to either of the three great ideas which constitute\n     consciousness, namely, personality or the liberty of man,\n     impersonality or the necessity of nature, and the providence of\n     God. Every man comprehends these three ideas immediately, because\n     he found them at first and constantly finds them again within\n     himself. The exceptions to this fact, by their small number, by the\n     absurdities which they involve, by the difficulties which they\n     create, serve only to exhibit, in a still clearer light, the\n     universality of faith in the human race, the treasure of good sense\n     deposited in truth, and the peace and happiness that there are for\n     a human soul in not discarding the convictions of its kind. Leave\n     out the exceptions which appear from time to time in certain\n     critical periods of history, and you will perceive that the masses\n     which alone have true existence, always and everywhere live in the\n     same faith, of which the forms only vary.\"\n\nThese somewhat too copious extracts have been purposely taken from the\nfirst volume of the \"Specimens of Foreign Standard Literature,\" edited\nby George Ripley in 1838, rather than from the collected writings of\nCousin, because they show what a leading New England transcendentalist\nthought most important in the teaching of the French school. His own\nestimate of the philosophy and his expectations from it may be learned\nfrom the closing passages of the introduction to that volume:\n\n     \"The objects at which Mr. Coleridge aims, it seems to me, are in a\n     great measure accomplished by the philosophy of Cousin. This\n     philosophy demolishes, by one of the most beautiful specimens of\n     scientific analysis that is anywhere to be met with, the system of\n     sensation, against which Mr. Coleridge utters such eloquent and\n     pathetic denunciations. It establishes on a rock the truth of the\n     everlasting sentiments of the human heart. It exhibits to the\n     speculative inquirer, in the rigorous forms of science, the reality\n     of our instinctive faith in God, in virtue, in the human soul, in\n     the beauty of holiness, and in the immortality of man.\n\n     \"Such a philosophy, I cannot but believe, will ultimately find a\n     cherished abode in the youthful affections of this nation, in whose\n     history, from the beginning, the love of freedom, the love of\n     philosophical inquiry, and the love of religion have been combined\n     in a thrice holy bond. We need a philosophy like this to purify and\n     enlighten our politics, to consecrate our industry, to cheer and\n     elevate society. We need it for our own use in the hours of mental\n     misgiving and gloom; when the mystery of the universe presses\n     heavily upon our souls; when the fountains of the great deep are\n     broken up, and the\n\n                  \"Intellectual power\n     Goes sounding on, a dim and perilous way,\"\n\n     over the troubled waters of the stormy sea. We need it for the use\n     of our practical men, who, surrounded on every side with the\n     objects of sense, engrossed with the competitions of business, the\n     rivalries of public life, or the cares of professional duty, and\n     accustomed to look at the immediate and obvious utility of\n     everything which appeals to their notice, often acquire a distaste\n     for all moral and religious inquiries, and as an almost inevitable\n     consequence, lose their interest, and often their belief, in the\n     moral and religious faculties of their nature. We need it for the\n     use of our young men, who are engaged in the active pursuits of\n     life, or devoted to the cultivation of literature. How many on the\n     very threshold of manly responsibility, by the influence of a few\n     unhappy mistakes, which an acquaintance with their higher nature,\n     as unfolded by a sound religious philosophy, would have prevented,\n     have consigned themselves to disgrace, remorse, and all the evils\n     of a violated conscience! How many have become the dupes of the\n     sophists' eloquence, or the victims of the fanatics' terrors, for\n     whom the spirit of a true philosophy--a philosophy 'baptized in the\n     pure fountain of eternal love,' would have preserved the charm and\n     beauty of life.\"\n\nCousin's \"History of Philosophy,\" translated by H. G. Linberg, was\npublished in 1832. The \"Elements of Psychology,\" by C. S. Henry,\nappeared in 1834. Thus Cousin was early introduced and recommended, and\nhis expositions of the German schools were received. The volume from\nwhich passages have been cited had an important influence on New England\nthought.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM IN ENGLAND.\n\n\nThe prophet of the new philosophy in England was Samuel Taylor\nColeridge; in the early part of the present century, perhaps the most\nconspicuous figure in our literary world; the object of more admiration,\nthe centre of more sympathy, the source of more intellectual life than\nany individual of his time; the criticism, the censure, the manifold\nanimadversion he was made the mark for, better attest his power than the\novations he received from his worshippers. The believers in his genius\nlacked words to express their sense of his greatness. He was the\n\"eternal youth,\" the \"divine child.\" The brilliant men of his period\nacknowledged his surpassing brilliancy; the deep men confessed his\ndepth; the spiritual men went to him for inspiration. His mind, affluent\nand profuse, contained within no barriers of conventional form, poured\nan abounding flood of thoughts over the whole literary domain. He was\nessayist, journalist, politician, poet, dramatist, metaphysician,\nphilosopher, theologian, divine, critic, expositor, dreamer,\nsoliloquizer; in all eloquent, in all intense. The effect he produced on\nthe minds of his contemporaries will scarcely be believed now. At\npresent he is little more than a name: his books are pronounced\nunreadable; his opinions are not quoted as authority; his force is\nspent. But in 1851, Thomas Carlyle, then past the years of his\nenthusiasm, and verging on the scornful epoch of his intellectual\ncareer, spoke of him, in the \"Life of Sterling,\" as \"A sublime man, who,\nalone in those dark days, had saved his crown of spiritual manhood;\nescaping from the black materialisms and revolutionary deluges, with\nGod, freedom, immortality still his; a king of men. The practical\nintellects of the world did not much heed him, or carelessly reckoned\nhim a metaphysical dreamer; but to the rising spirits of the young\ngeneration he had this dusky, sublime character, and sat there as a kind\nof _Magus_, girt in mystery and enigma, his Dodona oak grove (Mr.\nGillman's house at Highgate) whispering strange things, uncertain\nwhether oracles or jargon.\" \"To the man himself, Nature had given in\nhigh measure the seeds of a noble endowment, and to unfold it was\nforbidden him. A subtle, lynx-eyed intellect, tremulous, pious\nsensibility to all good and all beautiful; truly a ray of empyrean\nlight,--but imbedded in such weak laxity of character, in such\nindolences and esuriences, as made strange work with it. Once more, the\ntragic story of a high endowment with an insufficient will.\"\n\nThe abatement is painfully just; but while Coleridge lived, this very\nindolence and moral imbecility added to the interest he excited, and\ngave a mystic splendor as of a divine inspiration to his mental\nperformances. The distinction between unhealthiness and inspiration has\nnever been clearly marked, and the voluble utterances of the feebly\noutlined and loosely jointed soul easily passed for oracles. Thus his\nmoral deficiencies aided his influence. His wonderful powers of\nconversation or rather of effusion in the midst of admiring friends\nhelped the illusion and the fascination. He really seemed inspired while\nhe talked; and as his talk ranged through every domain, the listeners\ncarried away and communicated the impression of a superhuman wisdom.\n\nThe impression that Coleridge made on minds of a very different order\nfrom Carlyle's, is given in the following lines by Aubrey de Vere:\n\n    \"No loftier, purer soul than his hath ever\n     With awe revolved the planetary page\n           From infancy to age,\n     Of knowledge, sedulous and proud to give her\n     The whole of his great heart, for her own sake;\n     For what she is: not what she does, or what can make.\n\n     And mighty voices from afar came to him;\n     Converse of trumpets held by cloudy forms\n           And speech of choral storms.\n     Spirits of night and noontide bent to woo him;\n     He stood the while lonely and desolate\n     As Adam when he ruled a world, yet found no mate.\n\n     His loftiest thoughts were but as palms uplifted;\n     Aspiring, yet in supplicating guise--\n           His sweetest songs were sighs.\n     Adown Lethean streams his spirit drifted,\n     Under Elysian shades from poppied bank,\n     With amaranths massed in dark luxuriance dank.\n\n     Coleridge, farewell! That great and grave transition\n     Which may not king or priest or conqueror spare.\n           And yet a babe can bear,\n     Has come to thee. Through life a goodly vision\n     Was thine; and time it was thy rest to take.\n     Soft be the sound ordained thy sleep to break;\n     When thou art waking, wake me, for thy Master's sake.\"\n\nIn May, 1796,--he was then twenty-four years old,--Coleridge wrote to a\nfriend, \"I am studying German, and in about six weeks shall be able to\nread that language with tolerable fluency. Now I have some thoughts of\nmaking a proposal to Robinson, the great London bookseller, of\ntranslating all the works of Schiller, which would make a portly quarto,\non condition that he should pay my journey and my wife's to and from\nJena, a cheap German University where Schiller resides, and allow me two\nguineas each quarto sheet, which would maintain me. If I could realize\nthis scheme, I should there study chemistry and anatomy, and bring over\nwith me all the works of Semler and Michaelis, the German theologians,\nand of Kant, the great German metaphysician.\" In September, 1798, in\ncompany with Wordsworth and his sister, and at the expense of his\nmunificent friends Josiah and Thomas Wedgewood, he went to Germany and\nspent fourteen months in hard study. There he attended the lectures of\nEichhorn and Blumenbach, made the acquaintance of Tieck, dipped quite\ndeeply into philosophy and general literature, and took by contagion the\nspeculative ideas that filled his imagination with visions of\nintellectual discovery. Schelling's \"Transcendental Idealism,\" with\nwhich Coleridge was afterwards most in sympathy, was not published till\n1800. The \"Philosophy of Nature\" was published in 1797, the year before\nColeridge's visit. In 1817, he tells the readers of the \"Biographia\nLiteraria\" that he had been able to procure only two of Schelling's\nbooks--the first volume of his \"Philosophical Writings,\" and the \"System\nof Transcendental Idealism;\" these and \"a small pamphlet against Fichte,\nthe spirit of which was, to my feelings, painfully incongruous with the\nprinciples, and which displayed the love of wisdom rather than the\nwisdom of love.\"\n\nThe philosophical ideas of Schelling commended themselves at once to\nColeridge, who was a born idealist, of audacious genius, speculative,\nimaginative, original, capable of any such abstract achievement as the\nGerman undertook.\n\n     \"In Schelling's _Natur Philosophie_ and the _System des\n     Transcendentalen Idealismus_, I first found a genial coincidence\n     with much that I had toiled out for myself, and a powerful\n     assistance in what I had yet to do. All the main and fundamental\n     ideas were born and matured in my mind before I had ever seen a\n     single page of the German philosopher; and I might indeed affirm\n     with truth, before the more important works of Schelling had been\n     written, or at least made public. Nor is this at all to be wondered\n     at. We had studied in the same school; been disciplined by the same\n     preparatory philosophy, namely, the writings of Kant; we had both\n     equal obligations to the polar logic and dynamic philosophy of\n     Giordano Bruno; and Schelling has lately, and, as of recent\n     acquisition, avowed that same affectionate reverence for the labors\n     of Behmen and other mystics which I had formed at a much earlier\n     period. God forbid that I should be suspected of a wish to enter\n     into a rivalry with Schelling for the honors so unequivocally his\n     right, not only as a great original genius, but as the _founder_ of\n     the Philosophy of Nature, and as the most successful _improver_ of\n     the Dynamic system, which, begun by Bruno, was reintroduced (in a\n     more philosophical form, and freed from all its impurities and\n     visionary accompaniments) by Kant, in whom it was the native and\n     necessary growth of his own system. Kant's followers, however, on\n     whom (for the greater part) their master's _cloak_ had fallen,\n     without, or with a very scanty portion of his _spirit_, had adopted\n     his dynamic ideas, only as a more refined species of mechanics.\n     With exception of one or two fundamental ideas which cannot be\n     withheld from Fichte, to Schelling we owe the completion and the\n     most important victories of this revolution in philosophy. To me it\n     will be happiness and honor enough, should I succeed in rendering\n     the system itself intelligible to my countrymen, and in the\n     application of it to the most awful of subjects for the most\n     important of purposes. Whether a work is the offspring of a man's\n     own spirit and the product of original thinking, will be discovered\n     by those who are its sole legitimate judges, by better tests than\n     the mere reference to dates.\"\n\nThe question of Coleridge's alleged plagiarism from Schelling does not\nconcern us here. Whether the philosophy he taught was the product of his\nown thinking, or whether he was merely the medium for communicating the\nsystem of Schelling to his countrymen, is of no moment to us. For us it\nis sufficient to know that the English-speaking people on both shores of\nthe Atlantic received them chiefly through the Englishman. Those who are\ninterested in the other matter will find Coleridge's reputation\nvindicated in a long and elaborate introduction to the \"Biographia\nLiteraria,\" edition of 1847, by the poet's son.\n\nColeridge was a pure Transcendentalist, of the Schelling school. The\ntranscendental phrases came over and over in book and conversation,\n\"reason\" and \"understanding,\" \"intuition,\" \"necessary truths,\"\n\"consciousness,\" and the rest that were used to describe the\nsupersensual world and the faculties by which it was made visible. He\nshall speak for himself. The following passage from the \"Biographia\nLiteraria,\" Chapter XII., will be sufficiently intelligible to those who\nhave read the previous chapters, or enough of them to comprehend their\ncardinal ideas:\n\n     \"The criterion is this: if a man receives as fundamental facts, and\n     therefore of course indemonstratable and incapable of further\n     analysis, the general notions of matter, spirit, soul, body,\n     action, passiveness, time, space, cause and effect, consciousness,\n     perception, memory and all these, and is satisfied if only he can\n     analyze all other notions into some one or more of these supposed\n     elements, with plausible subordination and apt arrangement; to such\n     a mind I would as courteously as possible convey the hint, that for\n     him this chapter was not written.... For philosophy, in its highest\n     sense, as the science of ultimate truths, and therefore _scientia\n     scientiarum_, this mere analysis of terms is preparative only,\n     though as a preparative discipline indispensable.\n\n     \"Still less dare a favorable perusal be anticipated from the\n     proselytes of that compendious philosophy which, talking of mind,\n     but thinking of brick and mortar, or other images equally\n     abstracted from body, contrives a theory of spirit by nicknaming\n     matter, and in a few hours can qualify its dullest disciples to\n     explain the _omne scibile_ by reducing all things to impressions,\n     ideas, and sensations.\n\n     \"But it is time to tell the truth; though it requires some courage\n     to avow it in an age and country in which disquisitions on all\n     subjects not privileged to adopt technical terms or scientific\n     symbols, must be addressed to the public. I say, then, that it is\n     neither possible nor necessary for all men, nor for many, to be\n     philosophers. There is a philosophic consciousness which lies\n     beneath or (as it were) behind the spontaneous consciousness\n     natural to all reflecting beings. As the elder Romans distinguished\n     their northern provinces into Cis-Alpine and Trans-Alpine, so may\n     we divide all the objects of human knowledge into those on this\n     side and those on the other side of the spontaneous consciousness.\n     The latter is exclusively the domain of pure philosophy, which is\n     therefore properly entitled _transcendental_, in order to\n     discriminate it at once, both from mere reflection and\n     _re_-presentation on the one hand, and on the other from those\n     flights of lawless speculation which, abandoned by _all_ distinct\n     consciousness, because transgressing the bounds and purposes of our\n     intellectual faculties, are justly condemned as _transcendent_.\n\n     \"The first range of hills that encircles the scanty vale of human\n     life is the horizon for the majority of its inhabitants. On its\n     ridges the sun is born and departs. From them the stars rise, and\n     touching them they vanish. By the many, even this range, the\n     natural limit and bulwark of the vale, is but imperfectly known.\n     Its higher ascents are too often hidden in mists and clouds from\n     uncultivated swamps which few have courage or curiosity to\n     penetrate. To the multitude below these vapors appear, now as the\n     dark haunts of terrific agents, on which none may intrude with\n     impunity; and now all aglow, with colors not their own, they are\n     gazed at as the splendid palaces of happiness and power. But in all\n     ages there have been a few who, measuring and sounding the rivers\n     of the vale at the feet of their farthest inaccessible falls, have\n     learned that the sources must be far higher and far inward; a few\n     who, even in the level streams, have detected elements which\n     neither the vale itself nor the surrounding mountains contained or\n     could supply. How and whence to these thoughts, these strong\n     probabilities, the ascertaining vision, the intuitive knowledge may\n     finally supervene, can be learned only by the fact. I might oppose\n     to the question the words with which Plotinus supposes Nature to\n     answer a similar difficulty: 'Should any one interrogate her how\n     she works, if graciously she vouchsafe to listen and speak, she\n     will reply, it behooves thee not to disquiet me with\n     interrogatories, but to understand in silence, even as I am silent,\n     and work without words.'\n\n     \"They and they only can acquire the philosophic imagination, the\n     sacred power of self-intuition, who within themselves can interpret\n     and understand the symbol, that the wings of the air-sylph are\n     forming within the skin of the caterpillar; those only, who feel in\n     their own spirits the same instinct which impels the chrysalis of\n     the horned fly to leave room in its _involucrum_ for _antennae_ yet\n     to come. They know and feel that the potential works in them, even\n     as the actual works in them! In short, all the organs of sense are\n     framed for a corresponding world of sense; and we have it. All the\n     organs of spirit are framed for a correspondent world of spirit;\n     though the latter organs are not developed in all alike. But they\n     exist in all, and their first appearance discloses itself in the\n     moral being. How else could it be that even worldlings, not wholly\n     debased, will contemplate the man of simple and disinterested\n     goodness with contradictory feelings of pity and respect. 'Poor\n     man, he is not made for this world.' Oh, herein they utter a\n     prophecy of universal fulfilment, for man must either rise or sink.\n\n     \"It is the essential mark of the true philosopher to rest satisfied\n     with no imperfect light, as long as the impossibility of attaining\n     a fuller knowledge has not been demonstrated. That the common\n     consciousness itself will furnish proofs by its own direction that\n     it is connected with master currents below the surface, I shall\n     merely assume as a postulate _pro tempore_.... On the IMMEDIATE\n     which dwells in every man, and on the original intuition or\n     absolute affirmation of it (which is likewise in every man, but\n     does not in every man rise into consciousness), all the _certainty_\n     of our knowledge depends; and this becomes intelligible to no man\n     by the ministry of mere words from without. The medium by which\n     spirits understand each other is not the surrounding air, but the\n     _freedom_ which they possess in common, as the common ethereal\n     element of their being, the tremulous reciprocations of which\n     propagate themselves even to the inmost of the soul. Where the\n     spirit of a man is not _filled_ with the consciousness of freedom\n     (were it only from its restlessness, as of one struggling in\n     bondage) all spiritual intercourse is interrupted, not only with\n     others, but even with himself. No wonder, then, that he remains\n     incomprehensible to himself as well as to others. No wonder that in\n     the fearful desert of his consciousness he wearies himself out with\n     empty words to which no friendly echo answers, either from his own\n     heart or the heart of a fellow-being; or bewilders himself in the\n     pursuit of _notional_ phantoms, the mere refractions from unseen\n     and distant truths through the distorting medium of his own\n     unenlivened and stagnant understanding! To remain unintelligible to\n     such a mind, exclaims Schelling on a like occasion, is honor and a\n     good name before God and man.\n\n     \"Philosophy is employed on objects of the _inner sense_, and\n     cannot, like geometry, appropriate to every construction a\n     corresponding _outward_ intuition.... Now the inner sense has its\n     direction determined for the greater part only by an act of\n     freedom. One man's consciousness extends only to the pleasant or\n     unpleasant sensations caused in him by external impressions;\n     another enlarges his inner sense to a consciousness of forms and\n     quantity; a third, in addition to the image, is conscious of the\n     conception or notion of the thing; a fourth attains to a notion of\n     his notions--he reflects on his own reflections; and thus we may\n     say without impropriety, that the one possesses more or less inner\n     sense than the other....\n\n     \"The postulate of philosophy, and at the same time the test of\n     philosophical capacity, is no other than the heaven-descended KNOW\n     THYSELF. And this at once practically and speculatively. For as\n     philosophy is neither a science of the reason or understanding\n     only, nor merely a science of morals, but the science of BEING\n     altogether, its primary ground can be neither merely speculative\n     nor merely practical, but both in one. All knowledge rests upon the\n     coincidence of an object with a subject. For we can _know_ only\n     that which is true; and the truth is universally placed in the\n     coincidence of the thought with the thing, of the representation\n     with the object represented.\"\n\nColeridge then puts and argues the two alternatives. 1. Either the\nObjective is taken as primary, and then we have to account for the\nsupervention of the Subjective which coalesces with it, which natural\nphilosophy supposes. 2. Or the Subjective is taken as primary, and then\nwe have to account for the supervention of the objective, which\nspiritual philosophy supposes. The Transcendentalist accepts the latter\nalternative.\n\n     \"The second position, which not only claims but necessitates the\n     admission of its immediate certainty, equally for the scientific\n     reason of the philosopher as for the common-sense of mankind at\n     large, namely, I AM, cannot properly be entitled a prejudice. It is\n     groundless indeed; but then in the very idea it precludes all\n     ground, and, separated from the immediate consciousness, loses its\n     whole sense and import. It is groundless; but only because it is\n     itself the ground of all other certainty. Now the apparent\n     contradiction, that the first position--namely, that the existence\n     of things without us, which from its nature cannot be immediately\n     certain--should be received as blindly and as independently of all\n     grounds as the existence of our own being, the transcendental\n     philosopher can solve only by the supposition that the former is\n     unconsciously involved in the latter; that it is not only coherent,\n     but identical, and one and the same thing with our own immediate\n     self-consciousness. To demonstrate this identity is the office and\n     object of his philosophy.\n\n     \"If it be said that this is idealism, let it be remembered that it\n     is only so far idealism, as it is at the same time and on that very\n     account the truest and most binding realism.\"\n\nTo follow the exposition further is unnecessary for the present purpose,\nwhich is to state the fundamental principles of the philosophy, not to\ngive the processes of reasoning by which they are illustrated. Had\nColeridge been merely a philosopher, his influence on his generation, by\nthis means, would have been insignificant; for his expositions were\nfragmentary; his thoughts were too swift and tumultuous in their flow to\nbe systematically arranged; his style, forcible and luminous in\npassages, is interrupted by too frequent episodes, excursions and\nexplanatory parentheses, to be enjoyed by the inexpert. Besides being a\nphilosopher, he was a theologian. His deepest interest was in the\nproblems of theology. His mind was perpetually turning over the\nquestions of trinity, incarnation, Holy Ghost, sin, redemption,\nsalvation. He meditated endless books on these themes, and, in special,\none \"On the Logos,\" which was to remove all difficulties and reconcile\nall contradictions. \"On the whole, those dead churches, this dead\nEnglish church especially, must be brought to life again. Why not? It\nwas not dead; the soul of it, in this parched-up body, was tragically\nasleep only. Atheistic philosophy was, true, on its side; and Hume and\nVoltaire could, on their own ground, speak irrefragably for themselves\nagainst any church: but lift the church and them into a higher sphere of\nargument, _they_ died into inanition, the church revivified itself into\npristine florid vigor, became once more a living ship of the desert, and\ninvincibly bore you over stock and stone.\"\n\nThe philosophy was accepted as a basis for the theology, and apparently\nonly so far as it supplied the basis. Mrs. Coleridge declares, in a note\nto Chapter IX. of the \"Biographia Literaria,\" that her husband, soon\nafter the composition of that work, became dissatisfied with the system\nof Schelling, considered as a fundamental and comprehensive scheme\nintended to exhibit the relations of God to the world and man. He\nobjected to it, she insists, as essentially pantheistic, radically\ninconsistent with a belief in God as himself moral and intelligent, as\nbeyond and above the world, as the supreme mind to which the human mind\nowes homage and fealty--inconsistent with any just view and deep sense\nof the moral and spiritual being of man. He was mainly concerned\nwith the construction of a \"philosophical system, in which\nChristianity,--based on the triune being of God, and embracing a primal\nfall and universal redemption, (to use Carlyle's words) Christianity,\nideal, spiritual, eternal, but likewise and necessarily historical,\nrealized and manifested in time,--should be shown forth as accordant, or\nrather as one with ideas of reason, and the demands of the spiritual and\nof the speculative mind, of the heart, conscience, reason, which should\nall be satisfied and reconciled in one bond of peace.\"\n\nThis explains the interest which young and enthusiastic minds in the\nEnglish Church took in Coleridge, the verses just quoted from Aubrey de\nVere, one of the new school of believers, the admiring discipleship of\nFrederick Denison Maurice, the hearty allegiance of the leaders of the\nspiritual reformation in England. Coleridge was the real founder of the\nBroad Church, which attempted to justify creed and sacrament, by\nsubstituting the ideas of the spiritual philosophy for the formal\nauthority of traditions which the reason of the age was discarding.\n\nThe men who sympathized with the same movement in America felt the same\ngratitude to their leader. Already in 1829 \"The Aids to Reflection\" were\nrepublished by Dr. James Marsh. Caleb Sprague Henry, professor of\nphilosophy and history in the University of New York in 1839, and before\nthat a resident of Cambridge, an enthusiastic thinker and eloquent\ntalker, loved to dilate on the genius of the English philosopher, and\nwas better than a book in conveying information about him, better than\nmany books in awakening interest in his thought. The name of Coleridge\nwas spoken with profound reverence, his books were studied\nindustriously, and the terminology of transcendentalism was as familiar\nas commonplace in the circles of divines and men of letters. At present\nHegel is the prophet of these believers, Schelling is obsolete, and\nColeridge, the English Schelling, has had his day. The change is marked\nby an all but entire absence of the passionate enthusiasm, the\nimaginative glow and fervor, that characterized the transcendental\nphase of the movement. Coleridge was a vital thinker; his mind was a\nflame; his thoughts burned within him, and issued from him in language\nthat trembled and throbbed with the force of the ideas committed to it.\nHe was a divine, a preacher of most wonderful eloquence. At the age of\nthree or four and forty Serjeant Talfourd heard him talk.\n\n     \"At first his tones were conversational: he seemed to dally with\n     the shallows of the subject and with fantastic images which\n     bordered it; but gradually the thought grew deeper, and the voice\n     deepened with the thought; the stream gathering strength seemed to\n     bear along with it all things which opposed its progress, and\n     blended them with its current; and stretching away among regions\n     tinted with ethereal colors, was lost at airy distance in the\n     horizon of fancy.\" At five-and-twenty William Hazlitt heard him\n     preach.\n\n     \"It was in January, 1798, that I rose one morning before daylight,\n     to walk ten miles in the mud, to hear this celebrated person\n     preach. Never, the longest day I have to live, shall I have such\n     another walk as this cold, raw, comfortless one, in the winter of\n     the year 1798. _Il y a des impressions que ni le temps ni les\n     circonstances peuvent effacer. Dusse je vivre des siecles entiers,\n     le doux temps de ma jeunesse ne peut renaitre pour moi, ni\n     s'effacer jamais dans ma memoire._ When I got there the organ was\n     playing the hundredth psalm, and when it was done Mr. Coleridge\n     rose and gave out his text. 'He departed again into a mountain\n     himself alone.' As he gave out this text his voice 'rose like a\n     stream of rich distilled perfumes;' and when he came to the last\n     two words, which he pronounced loud, deep, and distinct, it seemed\n     to me, who was then young, as if the sounds had echoed from the\n     bottom of the human heart, and as if that prayer might have floated\n     in solemn silence through the universe. The idea of St. John came\n     into my mind, of one crying in the wilderness, who had his loins\n     girt about, and whose food was locusts and wild honey. The preacher\n     then launched into his subject, like an eagle dallying with the\n     wind. The sermon was upon peace and war, upon church and state, not\n     their alliance, but their separation; on the spirit of the world\n     and the spirit of Christianity, not as the same, but as opposed to\n     one another. He talked of those who had inscribed the cross of\n     Christ on banners dripping with human gore. He made a poetical and\n     pastoral excursion, and to show the effects of war, drew a striking\n     contrast between the simple shepherd boy, driving his team afield,\n     or sitting under the hawthorn, piping to his flock as though he\n     should never be old; and the same poor country lad, crimped,\n     kidnapped, brought into town, made drunk at an ale-house, turned\n     into a wretched drummer-boy, with his hair sticking on end with\n     powder and pomatum, a long cue at his back, and tricked out in the\n     finery of the profession of blood.\n\n    'Such were the notes our once loved poet sung;'\n\n     and for myself I could not have been more delighted if I had heard\n     the music of the spheres. Poetry and Philosophy had met together,\n     Truth and Genius had embraced, under the eye and with the sanction\n     of Religion. This was even beyond my hopes. I returned home well\n     satisfied.\"\n\nThe influence of Coleridge was greatly assisted by contemporary\nmagazines, which helped by their furious efforts to crush him, and won\nsympathy for him by their attempts to laugh and hoot him down. Jeffrey\nhandled the \"Biographia Literaria\" in the Edinburgh Review, August,\n1817; \"as favorable to the book _as could be expected_,\" the editor\nquietly says. The numberless varieties of judgment were represented in\nthe Dublin University Magazine, British and Foreign Quarterly, Fraser,\nBlackwood, Christian Quarterly, Spectator, Monthly Review, Eclectic,\nWestminster, most of which contained several articles on different\naspects of the subject. In America, Geo. B. Cheever wrote in the North\nAmerican Review, F. H. Hedge in the Christian Examiner, D. N. Lord in\nLord's Theological Journal, H. T. Tuckerman in the Southern Literary\nMessenger, Noah Porter in the Bibliotheca Sacra. The New York Review,\nthe American Quarterly, American Whig Review, all made contributions to\nthe Coleridgian literature,[2] and exhibited the extensive reaches of\nhis power. The readers of Lamb, Hazlitt, Wordsworth, Southey and the\nbrilliant essayists that made so fascinating the English literature of\nthe first third of our century must perforce be introduced to Coleridge.\nThe \"Ancient Mariner\" and \"Christabel,\" which lay on every table,\nexcited interest in the man from whom such astonishing pieces proceeded;\nso that many who understood little or nothing of his philosophical\nideas, appropriated something of the spirit and tone of them. He had\ndisciples who never heard him speak even in print, and followers who\nnever saw his form even as sketched by critics. His thoughts were in the\nair; the mental atmosphere of theological schools was modified by them.\nThey insensibly transplanted establishments and creeds from old to new\nregions.\n\n[2] See for references. Poole's Index to Periodical Literature.\n\nIn 1851, Thomas Carlyle burlesqued Coleridge, took off his solemn\noracular manner, made fun of his \"plaintive snuffle and sing-song,\" his\n\"om-m-ject and sum-m-ject,\" his \"talk not flowing anywhither like a\nriver, but spreading everywhither in inextricable currents and\nregurgitations like a lake or sea; terribly deficient in definite goal\nor aim, nay often in logical intelligibility; what you were to believe\nor do, on any earthly or heavenly thing, obstinately refusing to appear\nfrom it, so that, most times, you felt logically lost; swamped near to\ndrowning in this tide of ingenious vocables spreading out boundless as\nif to submerge the world.\" But in his earlier days the \"windy harangues\"\nand \"dizzying metaphysics\" had their charm for him too; the philosophy\nof the Highgate sage was in essence and fruit his own. He explained at\nsome length and with considerable frequency, as well as much eloquence,\nthe distinction between \"understanding,\" the faculty that observed,\ngeneralized, inferred, argued, concluded, and \"reason,\" the faculty that\nsaw the ideal forms of truth face to face, and beheld the inmost reality\nof things. He dilated with a disciple's enthusiasm on the principles of\nthe transcendental philosophy, painted in gorgeous colors the promises\nit held forth, prophesied earnestly respecting the better time for\nliterature, art, social ethics and religious faith it would bring in,\npreached tempestuously against shams in church and state, from the mount\nof vision that it disclosed. We have already seen how he could speak of\nKant, Fichte, Novalis, of Goethe and Jean Paul. Thirty-five years ago\nCarlyle was the high priest of the new philosophy. Emerson edited his\nmiscellanies, and the dregs of his ink-bottle were welcomed as the\nprecious sediment of the fountain of inspiration. In 1827 he defended\nthe \"Kritik of Pure Reason\" against stupid objectors from the\nsensational side, as, in the opinion of the most competent judges,\n\"distinctly the greatest intellectual achievement of the century in\nwhich it came to light,\" and affirmed as by authority, that the seeker\nfor pure truth must begin with intuition and proceed outward by the\nlight of the revelation thence derived. In 1831 he carried this\nprinciple to the extreme of maintaining that a complete surrender to the\ninforming genius, a surrender so entire as to amount to the abandonment\nof definite purpose and will, was evidence of perfect wisdom; for such\nis the interpretation we give to the paradoxical doctrine of\n\"unconsciousness\" which implied that in order to save the soul it must\nbe forgotten; that consciousness was a disease; that in much wisdom was\nmuch grief.\n\nHad Carlyle been more of a philosopher and less of a preacher, more a\nthinker and less a character, more a patient toiler after truth, and\nless a man of letters, his first intellectual impulse might have lasted.\nAs it was, the reaction came precisely in middle life, and the apostle\nof transcendental ideas became the champion of Force. His\nTranscendentalism seems to have been a thing of sentiment rather than of\nconviction. A man of tremendous strength of feeling, his youth, as is\nthe case with men of feeling, was romantic, enthusiastic, hopeful,\nexuberant; his manhood, as is also the case with men of feeling, was\nwilful and overbearing, with sadness deepening into moroseness and\nunhopefulness verging towards despair.\n\nThe era of despair had not set in at the period when the mind of New\nEngland was fermenting with the ideas of the new philosophy. Then all\nwas brave, humane, aspiring. The denunciations of materialism in\nphilosophy, formalism in religion and utilitarianism in personal and\nsocial ethics, rang through the land; the superb vindications of soul\nagainst sense, spirit against letter, faith against rite, heroism and\nnobleness against the petty expediencies of the market, kindled all\nearnest hearts. The emphatic declarations that \"wonder and reverence are\nthe conditions of insight and the source of strength; that faith is\nprior to knowledge and deeper too; that empirical science can but play\non the surface of unfathomable mysteries; that in the order of reality\nthe ideal and invisible are the world's true adamant, and the laws of\nmaterial appearance only its alluvial growths; that in the inmost\nthought of men there is a thirst to which the springs of nature are a\nmere mirage, and which presses on to the waters of eternity,\" fell like\nrefreshing gales from the hills on the children of men imprisoned in\ncustom and suffocated by tradition. The infinitely varied illustrations\nof the worth of beauty, the grandeur of truth, the excellence of simple,\ndevout sincerity in nature, literature, character; the burning\ninsistance on the need of fresh inspiration from the region of serene\nideas, seemed to proceed from a soul newly awakened, if not especially\nendowed with the seer's vision. It was better than philosophy; it was\nphilosophy made vital with sentiment and purpose.\n\nCarlyle early learned the German language, as Coleridge did, and drank\ndeep from the fountains of its best literature. To him it opened a new\nworld of thought, which the ordinary Englishman had no conception of.\nColeridge found himself at home there by virtue of his natural genius,\nand also by the introduction given him by Wm. Law, John Pordage, Richard\nSaumarez, and Jacob Behmen, so that the suddenly discovered continent\nbroke on him with less surprise; but Carlyle was as one taken wholly\nunawares, fascinated, charmed, intoxicated with the sights and sounds\nabout him. Being unprepared by previous reflection and overpowered by\nthe gorgeousness of color, the wealth was too much for him; it palled at\nlast on his appetite, and he experienced a reaction similar to that of\nthe sensualist whose delirium first persuades him that he has found his\nsoul, and then makes him fear that he has lost it.\n\nWith the reactionary stage of Carlyle's career when, as a frank critic\nobserves, \"he flung away with a shriek the problems his youth\nentertained, as the fruit by which paradise was lost; repented of all\nknowledge of good and evil; clapped a bandage round the open eyes of\nmorals, religion, art, and saw no salvation but in spiritual suicide by\nplunging into the currents of instinctive nature that sweep us we know\nnot whither\"--we are not concerned. His interest for us ceases with his\nmoral enthusiasm.\n\nA more serene and beneficent influence proceeded from the poet\nWordsworth, whose fame rose along with that of Coleridge, struggled\nagainst the same opposition, and obtained even a steadier lustre. There\nwas a kindred between them which Wordsworth did not acknowledge, but\nwhich Coleridge more than suspected and tried to divulge. One chapter in\nthe first volume of the \"Biographia Literaria\" and four chapters in the\nsecond volume are devoted to the consideration of Wordsworth's poetry,\nand effort is made, not quite successfully, to bring Wordsworth's\npsychological faith into sympathy with his own.\n\nWordsworth's genius has furnished critics with materials for speculation\nthat must be sought in their proper places. We have no fresh analysis to\noffer. That the secret of his power over the ingenuous and believing\nminds of his age is to be found in the sentiment with which he invested\nhomely scenes and characters is a superficial conjecture. What led him\nto invest homely scenes and characters with sentiment, and what made\nthis circumstance interesting to precisely that class of minds? What,\nbut the same latent idealism that came to deliberate and formal\nexpression in Coleridge, and suggested in the one what was proclaimed by\nthe other? For Wordsworth was a metaphysician, though he did not clearly\nsuspect it; at least, if he did, he was careful not to betray himself by\nthe usual signs. The philosophers recognized him and paid to him their\nacknowledgments.\n\nIn the \"Dial,\" Wordsworth is mentioned with honor; not discussed as\nGoethe was, but pleasantly talked about as a well-known friend. The\nthird volume of that magazine, April, 1843, contains an article on\n\"Europe and European Books\" in which occurs the following tribute to\nWordsworth:\n\n     \"The capital merit of Wordsworth is that he has done more for the\n     sanity of this generation than any other writer. Early in life, at\n     a crisis, it is said, in his private affairs, he made his election\n     between assuming and defending some legal rights with the chances\n     of wealth and a position in the world--and the inward promptings of\n     his heavenly genius; he took his part; he accepted the call to be a\n     poet, and sat down, far from cities, with coarse clothing and plain\n     fare to obey the heavenly vision. The choice he had made in his\n     will manifested itself in every line to be real. We have poets who\n     write the poetry of society, of the patricians and conventional\n     Europe, as Scott and Moore; and others, who, like Byron or Bulwer,\n     write the poetry of vice and disease. But Wordsworth threw himself\n     into his place, made no reserves or stipulations; man and writer\n     were not to be divided. He sat at the foot of Helvellyn and on the\n     margin of Windermere, and took their lustrous mornings and their\n     sublime midnights, for his theme, and not Marlowe nor Massinger,\n     nor Horace, nor Milton nor Dante. He once for all forsook the\n     styles and standards and modes of thinking of London and Paris and\n     the books read there, and the aims pursued, and wrote Helvellyn and\n     Windermere and the dim spirits which these haunts harbored. There\n     was not the least attempt to reconcile these with the spirit of\n     fashion and selfishness, nor to show, with great deference to the\n     superior judgment of dukes and earls, that although London was the\n     home for men of great parts, yet Westmoreland had these\n     consolations for such as fate had condemned to the country life;\n     but with a complete satisfaction he pitied and rebuked their false\n     lives, and celebrated his own with the religion of a true priest.\n     Hence the antagonism which was immediately felt between his poetry\n     and the spirit of the age, that here not only criticism but\n     conscience and will were parties; the spirit of literature, and the\n     modes of living, and the conventional theories of the conduct of\n     life were called in question on wholly new grounds, not from\n     Platonism, nor from Christianity, but from the lessons which the\n     country muse taught a stout pedestrian climbing a mountain, and\n     following a river from its parent rill down to the sea. The\n     Cannings and Jeffreys of the capital, the Court Journals and\n     Literary Gazettes were not well pleased, and voted the poet a bore.\n     But that which rose in him so high as to the lips, rose in many\n     others as high as to the heart. What he said, they were prepared to\n     hear and to confirm. The influence was in the air, and was wafted\n     up and down into lone and populous places, resisting the popular\n     taste, modifying opinions which it did not change, and soon came to\n     be felt in poetry, in criticism, in plans of life, and at last in\n     legislation. In this country it very early found a stronghold, and\n     its effect may be traced on all the poetry both of England and\n     America.\"\n\nThis is truly and well said, though quite inadequate. The slighting\nallusion to Platonism might have been omitted, for possibly Wordsworth\nhad caught something of the philosophy that was in the air. Mr. Emerson,\nin \"Thoughts on Modern Literature,\" in the second number of the \"Dial,\"\nOct. 1840, touched a deeper chord.\n\n     \"The fame of Wordsworth\" he says, \"is a leading fact in modern\n     literature, when it is considered how hostile his genius at first\n     seemed to the reigning taste, and with what feeble poetic talents\n     his great and steadily growing dominion has been established. More\n     than any poet his success has been not his own, but that of the\n     idea which he shared with his coevals, and which he has rarely\n     succeeded in adequately expressing. The Excursion awakened in every\n     lover of nature the right feeling. We saw the stars shine, we felt\n     the awe of mountains, we heard the rustle of the wind in the grass,\n     and knew again the ineffable secret of solitude. It was a great\n     joy. It was nearer to nature than any thing we had before. But the\n     interest of the poem ended almost with the narrative of the\n     influences of nature on the mind of the Boy, in the first book.\n     Obviously for that passage the poem was written, and with the\n     exception of this and a few strains of like character in the\n     sequel, the whole poem was dull. Here was no poem, but here was\n     poetry, and a sure index where the subtle muse was about to pitch\n     her tent and find the argument of her song. It was the human soul\n     in these last ages striving for a just publication of itself. Add\n     to this, however, the great praise of Wordsworth, that more than\n     any other contemporary bard he is pervaded with a reverence of\n     somewhat higher than (conscious) thought. There is in him that\n     property common to all great poets--a wisdom of humanity, which is\n     superior to any talents which they exert. It is the wisest part of\n     Shakespeare and Milton, for they are poets by the free course which\n     they allow to the informing soul, which through their eyes\n     beholdeth again and blesseth the things which it hath made. The\n     soul is superior to its knowledge, wiser than any of its works.\"\n\nIn the general Preface to his poems, where Wordsworth discusses the\nprinciples of the poetic art, he wrote: \"The imagination is conscious of\nan indestructible dominion; the soul may fall away, from its not being\nable to sustain its grandeur, but if once felt and acknowledged, by no\nact of any other faculty of the mind can it be relaxed, impaired or\ndiminished. Fancy is given to quicken and to beguile the temporal part\nof our nature; Imagination to incite and support the eternal.\" And in\nthe appendix: \"Faith was given to man that his affections, detached from\nthe treasures of time, might be inclined to settle on those of eternity:\nthe elevation of his nature, which this habit produces on earth, being\nto him a presumptive evidence of a future state of existence, and\ngiving him a title to partake of its holiness. The religious man values\nwhat he sees, chiefly as an 'imperfect shadowing forth' of what he is\nincapable of seeing.\" Was this an echo from the German Jacobi, whose\ndoctrine of Faith had been some time abroad in the intellectual world?\n\nThe ode \"Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early\nChildhood,\" was a clear reminiscence of Platonism. This famous poem was\nthe favorite above all other effusions of Wordsworth with the\nTranscendentalists, who held it to be the highest expression of his\ngenius, and most characteristic of its bent. Emerson in his last\ndiscourse on Immortality, calls it \"the best modern essay on the\nsubject.\" Many passages in the \"Excursion\" attest the transcendental\ncharacter of the author's faith. Coleridge quotes the following lines:\n\n              \"For I have learned\n    To look on nature, not as in the hour\n    Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes\n    The still sad music of humanity,\n    Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power\n    To chasten and subdue. And I have felt\n    A presence that disturbs me with the joy\n    Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime\n    Of something far more deeply interfused,\n    Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,\n    And the round ocean and the living air,\n    And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;\n    A motion and a spirit that impels\n    All thinking things, all objects of all thought,\n    And rolls through all things.\"\n\nThe passage quoted next suggests the very language of Fichte in his\nBestimmung des Menschen, \"In der Liebe nur ist das Leben, ohne Sie ist\nTod und Vernichtung.\"\n\n    This is the genuine course, the aim, the end,\n    Of prescient Reason; all conclusions else\n    Are abject, vain, presumptuous and perverse,\n    The faith partaking of those holy times.\n\n    Life, I repeat, is energy of Love,\n    Divine or human; exercised in pain,\n    In strife and tribulation; and ordained,\n    If so approved and sanctified, to pass\n    Through shades and silent rest, to endless joy.\n\nAnother extract recalls the \"pantheism\" of Schelling.\n\n      Thou--who didst wrap the cloud\n    Of infancy around us, that Thyself\n    Therein with our simplicity awhile\n    Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed,\n    Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep,\n    Or from its death-like void, with punctual care,\n    And touch as gentle as the morning light,\n    Restorest us, daily, to the powers of sense\n    And reason's steadfast rule,--Thou, thou alone\n    Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits,\n    Which Thou includest, as the Sea her Waves.\n    For adoration Thou endurest; endure\n    For consciousness the motions of Thy will;\n    For apprehension those transcendent truths\n    Of the pure Intellect, that stand as laws;\n    Submission constituting strength and power,\n    Even to Thy Being's infinite majesty!\n\nHaving before me a copy of Wordsworth's poems, once the possession of an\nearnest Transcendentalist, I find these, and many lines of similar\nimport, underlined; showing how dear the English poet was to the\nAmerican reader.\n\nThere were others who held and enunciated the new faith that came from\nGermany, the transfigured protestantism of the land of Luther. But these\nthree names will suffice to indicate the wealth of England's\ncontribution to the spiritual life of the New World--Coleridge, Carlyle,\nWordsworth--the philosopher, the preacher, the poet; the man of thought,\nthe man of letters, the man of imagination. These embrace all the\nmethods by which the fresh enthusiasm for the soul communicated its\npower. These three were everywhere read, and everywhere talked of. They\noccupied prominent places in the public eye. They sank into the shadow\nonly when the faith that glorified them began to decline.\n\nIt is remarkable that Emerson in the paper just quoted, written in 1840,\npasses from Wordsworth to Landor; while the author of the other paper,\nwritten in 1843, passes, and almost with an expression of relief, from\nWordsworth to Tennyson, the new poet whose breaking glory threatened the\nmorning star with eclipse. By this time Transcendentalism was on the\nwane. The \"Dial\" marked for one year longer the hours of the great day,\nand then was removed from its place, and the scientific method of\nmeasuring progress was introduced. Wordsworth from year to year had a\ndiminishing proportion of admirers: from year to year the admirers of\nTennyson increased. As early as 1843 the passion for music, color, and\nexternal polish was manifest. Tennyson's elegance and subtlety, his rich\nfancy, his mastery of language, his metrical skill, his taste for the\nsumptuous and gorgeous, were winning their way to popularity. The critic\nin the \"Dial\" has misgivings: \"In these boudoirs of damask and alabaster\none is further off from stern nature and human life than in \"Lalla\nRookh\" and \"The Loves of the Angels.\" Amid swinging censers and perfumed\nlamps, amidst velvet and glory, we long for rain and frost. Otto of\nroses is good, but wild air is better.\" But the sweets have been tasted,\nand have spoiled the relish for the old homeliness. For the man who\nloved him the charm of Wordsworth was idyllic; for the few who bent the\nhead to him it was mystical and prophetic. The idyllic sentiment palled\non the taste. It was a reaction from artificial forms of sensibility,\nand having enjoyed its day, submitted to the law of change that called\nit into being. The moral earnestness, the mystic idealism became\nunpopular along with the school of philosophy from which it sprung, and\ngave place to the realism of the Victorian bards, who expressed the\nsensuous spirit of a more external age. Transcendentalism lurks in\ncorners of England now. The high places of thought are occupied by men\nwho approach the great problems from the side of nature, and through\nmatter feel after mind; by means of the senses attempt the heights of\nspirit.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTRANSCENDENTALISM IN NEW ENGLAND.\n\n\nThe title of this Chapter is in a sense misleading. For with some truth\nit may be said that there never was such a thing as Transcendentalism\nout of New England. In Germany and France there was a transcendental\nphilosophy, held by cultivated men, taught in schools, and professed by\nmany thoughtful and earnest people; but it never affected society in its\norganized institutions or practical interests. In old England, this\nphilosophy influenced poetry and art, but left the daily existence of\nmen and women untouched. But in New England, the ideas entertained by\nthe foreign thinkers took root in the native soil and blossomed out in\nevery form of social life. The philosophy assumed full proportions,\nproduced fruit according to its kind, created a new social order for\nitself, or rather showed what sort of social order it would create under\nfavoring conditions. Its new heavens and new earth were made visible, if\nbut for a moment, and in a wintry season. Hence, when we speak of\nTranscendentalism, we mean New England Transcendentalism.\n\nNew England furnished the only plot of ground on the planet, where the\ntranscendental philosophy had a chance to show what it was and what it\nproposed. The forms of life there were, in a measure, plastic. There\nwere no immovable prejudices, no fixed and unalterable traditions. Laws\nand usages were fluent, malleable at all events. The sentiment of\nindividual freedom was active; the truth was practically acknowledged,\nthat it takes all sorts of people to make a world, and the many minds of\nthe many men were respected. No orders of men, no aristocracies of\nintellect, no privileged classes of thought were established. The old\nworld supplied such literature as there was, in science, law,\nphilosophy, ethics, theology; but an astonishing intellectual activity\nseized upon it, dealt with it in genuine democratic fashion, classified\nit, accepted it, dismissed it, paying no undue regard to its foreign\nreputation. Experiments in thought and life, of even audacious\ndescription, were made, not in defiance of precedent--for precedent was\nhardly respected enough to be defied--but in innocent unconsciousness of\nprecedent. A feeling was abroad that all things must be new in the new\nworld. There was call for immediate application of ideas to life. In the\nold world, thoughts remained cloistered a generation before any\nquestioned their bearing on public or private affairs. In the new world,\nthe thinker was called on to justify himself on the spot by building an\nengine, and setting something in motion. The test of a truth was its\navailability. The popular faith in the capacities of men to make states,\nlaws, religions for themselves, supplied a ground work for the new\nphilosophy. The philosophy of sensation, making great account, as it\ndid, of circumstances, arrangements, customs, usages, rules of education\nand discipline, was alien and disagreeable to people who, having just\nemancipated themselves from political dependence on the mother country,\nwere full of confidence in their ability to set up society for\nthemselves. The philosophy that laid its foundations in human nature,\nand placed stress on the organic capacities and endowments of the mind,\nwas as congenial as the opposite system was foreign. Every native New\nEnglander was at heart, whether he suspected it or not, radically and\ninstinctively a disciple of Fichte or Schelling, of Cousin or Jouffroy.\n\nThe religion of New England was Protestant and of the most intellectual\ntype. Romanism had no hold on the thinking people of Boston. None beside\nthe Irish laboring and menial classes were Catholics, and their religion\nwas regarded as the lowest form of ceremonial superstition. The\nCongregational system favored individuality of thought and action. The\northodox theology, in spite of its arbitrary character and its fixed\ntype of supernaturalism, exercised its professors severely in\nspeculative questions, and furnished occasions for discernment and\ncriticism which made reason all but supreme over faith. This theology\ntoo had its purely spiritual side--nay, it was essentially spiritual.\nIts root ran back into Platonism, and its flower was a mysticism which,\non the intellectual side, bordered closely on Transcendentalism. The\ncharge that the Trinitarian system, in its distinguishing features, was\nof Platonic, and not of Jewish origin, was a confession that it was born\nof the noblest idealism of the race. So in truth it was, and so\nwell-instructed Trinitarians will confess that it was. The Platonic\nphilosophy being transcendental in its essence and tendency,\ncommunicated this character to Christian speculation. The skeletons of\nancient polemics were buried deep beneath the soil of orthodoxy, and\nwere not supposed to be a part of the structure of modern beliefs, but\nthere nevertheless they were. The living faith of New England, in its\nspiritual aspects, betrayed its ancestry. The speculation had become\nChristian, the powers claimed by pagan philosophers for the mind were\nascribed to the influences of the Holy Spirit and the truths revealed in\nconsciousness were truths of the Gospel; but the fact of immediate\ncommunication between the soul of the believer and its Christ was so\nearnestly insisted on, the sympathy was represented as being of so\nkindred and organic a nature, that in reading the works of the masters\nof New England theology, it requires an effort to forget that the\nspeculative basis of their faith was not the natural basis of the\nphilosopher, but the supernatural one of the believer. The spiritual\nwritings of Jonathan Edwards, the \"Treatise on the Religious Affections\"\nespecially, breathe the sweetest spirit of idealism. Indeed, whenever\northodoxy spread its wings and rose into the region of faith, it lost\nitself in the sphere where the human soul and the divine were in full\nconcurrence. Transcendentalism simply claimed for all men what\nProtestant Christianity claimed for its own elect.\n\nThat adherents of the sensuous philosophy professed the orthodox\ndoctrines, is a circumstance that throws the above statement into bolder\nrelief. For these people gave to the system the hard, external,\ndogmatical character which in New England provoked the Unitarian\nreaction. The beliefs in scripture inspiration, incarnation, atonement,\nelection, predestination, depravity, fall, regeneration, redemption,\ndeprived of their interior meaning, became ragged heaps of dogmatism,\nunbeautiful, incredible, hateful. Assault came against them from the\nquarter of common intelligence and the rational understanding. The\nsensuous philosophy associated with the school of Locke,--which Edwards\nand the like of him scorned,--fell upon the fallen system and plucked it\nunmercifully. Never was easier work than that of the early Unitarian\ncritics. The body of orthodoxy having lost its soul, was a very\nunsightly carcass,--so evidently, to every sense, a carcass, that they\nwho had respected it as a celestial creation, and could not be persuaded\nthat this was all they respected, allowed the scavengers to take it\naway, only protesting that the thing disposed of was not the revealed\ngospel, or anything but a poor effigy of it.\n\nThe Unitarians as a class belonged to the school of Locke, which\ndiscarded the doctrine of innate ideas, and its kindred beliefs.\nUnitarianism from the beginning showed affinity with this school, and\navowed it more distinctly than idealists avowed Trinitarianism. Paul of\nSamosata, Arius, Pelagius, Socinus, the Swiss, Polish, English advocates\nof the same general theology and christology were, after their several\nkinds, disciples of the same philosophical system. Unitarianism, it was\nremarked, has rarely, if ever, been taught or held by any man of\neminence in the church who was a Platonist. The Unitarians of New\nEngland, good scholars, careful reasoners, clear and exact thinkers,\naccomplished men of letters, humane in sentiment, sincere in moral\nintention, belonged, of course with individual exceptions, to the class\nwhich looked without for knowledge, rather than within for inspiration.\nThe Unitarian in religion was a whig in politics, a conservative in\nliterature, art and social ethics. The Unitarian divine was more\nfamiliar with Tillotson than with Cudworth, and more in love with\nWilliam Paley than with Joseph Butler. He was strong in the \"Old\nEnglish\" classics, and though a confessed devotee to no school in\nphilosophy, was addicted to the prevailing fashion of intelligent,\ncultivated good sense. The Unitarian was disquieted by mysticism,\nenthusiasm and rapture. Henry More was unintelligible to him, and Robert\nFludd disgusting. He had no sympathy with Helvetius, D'Holbach, Diderot\nor Voltaire, those fierce disturbers of intellectual peace; he had as\nlittle with William Law and Coleridge, dreamers and visionaries, who\nsubstituted vapor for solid earth. The Unitarian leaders were\ndistinguished by practical wisdom, sober judgment, and balanced\nthoughtfulness, that weighed opinions in the scale of evidence and\nargument. Even Dr. Channing clung to the philosophical traditions that\nwere his inheritance from England. The splendid things he said about the\ndignity of human nature, the divinity of the soul, the moral kinship\nwith Christ, the inspiration of the moral sentiment, the power of moral\nintuition, habitual and characteristic as they were, scarcely justify\nthe ascription to him of sympathy with philosophical idealism. His\ntenacious adherence to the record of miracle as attesting the mission of\nthe Christ, and his constant exaltation of the Christ above humanity,\nsuggest that the first principles of the transcendental philosophy had\nnot been distinctly accepted, even if they were distinctly apprehended.\nThe following extract from a letter written in 1819, expresses Dr.\nChanning's feeling toward Christ, a feeling never essentially altered:\n\"Jesus Christ existed before he came into the world, and in a state of\ngreat honor and felicity. He was known, esteemed, beloved, revered in\nthe family of heaven. He was entrusted with the execution of the most\nsublime purposes of his Father.\" About the same time he wrote: \"Jesus\never lives, and is ever active for mankind. He is Mediator, Intercessor,\nLord, and Saviour; He has a permanent and constant connection with\nmankind. He is through all time, now as well as formerly, the active and\nefficient friend of the human race.\" The writer of such words was\ncertainly not a Transcendentalist in philosophy. His biographer, himself\na brilliant Transcendentalist, admits as much. \"His soul\" he says, \"was\nilluminated with the idea of the absolute immutable glory of the Moral\nGood; and reverence for conscience is the key to his whole doctrine of\nhuman destiny and duty. Many difficult metaphysical points he passed\nwholly by, as being out of the sphere alike of intuition and of\nexperience. He believed, to be sure, in the possibility of man's gaining\nsome insight of Universal Order, and respected the lofty aspiration\nwhich prompts men to seek a perfect knowledge of the Divine laws; but he\nconsidered pretensions to absolute science as quite premature; saw more\nboastfulness than wisdom in ancient and modern schemes of philosophy,\nand was not a little amused at the complacent confidence with which\nquite evidently fallible theorists assumed to stand at the centre, and\nto scan and depict the panorama of existence.\" In a letter of 1840,\nreferring to the doctrines of Mr. Parker and that school of thinkers, he\nwrites: \"I see and feel the harm done by this crude speculation, whilst\nI also see much nobleness to bind me to its advocates. In its opinions\ngenerally I see nothing to give me hope. I am somewhat disappointed that\nthis new movement is to do so little for the spiritual regeneration of\nsociety.\" A year later, he tells James Martineau that the spiritualists\n(meaning the Transcendentalists) \"in identifying themselves a good deal\nwith Cousin's crude system, have lost the life of an original movement.\nThey are anxious to defend the soul's immediate connection with God, and\nare in danger of substituting private inspiration for Christianity.\"\nWhat he knew of Kant, Schelling and Fichte, through Mad. de Stael and\nColeridge, he welcomed as falling in with his own conceptions of the\ngrandeur of the human mind and will; but his acquaintance with them was\nnever complete, and if it had been, he would perhaps have been repelled\nby the intellectual, as strongly as he was attracted by the moral\nteaching.\n\nIn this matter the sentiment of Channing went beyond his philosophy. The\nfollowing extracts taken at random from a volume of discourses edited\nin 1873 by his nephew, under the title \"The Perfect Life,\" show that\nChanning was a Transcendentalist in feeling, whatever he may have been\nin thought.\n\n     \"The religious principle, is, without doubt, the noblest working of\n     human nature. This principle God implanted for Himself. Through\n     this the human mind corresponds to the Supreme Divinity.\"\n\n     \"The idea of God is involved in the primitive and most universal\n     idea of Reason; and is one of its central principles.\"\n\n     \"We have, each of us, the spiritual eye to see, the mind to know,\n     the heart to love, the will to obey God.\"\n\n     \"A spiritual light, brighter than that of noon, pervades our daily\n     life. The cause of our not seeing is in ourselves.\"\n\n     \"The great lesson is, that there is in human nature an element\n     truly Divine, and worthy of all reverence; that the Infinite which\n     is mirrored in the outward universe, is yet more brightly imaged in\n     the inward spiritual world.\"\n\n     \"They who assert the greatness of human nature, see as much of\n     guilt as the man of worldly wisdom. But amidst the passions and\n     selfishness of men they see another element--a Divine element--a\n     spiritual principle.\"\n\n     \"This moral principle--the supreme law in man--is the Law of the\n     Universe, the very Law to which the highest beings are subject, and\n     in obeying which they find their elevation and their joy.\"\n\n     \"The Soul itself,--in its powers and affections, in its\n     unquenchable thirst and aspiration for unattained good, gives signs\n     of a Nature made for an interminable progress, such as cannot be\n     now conceived.\"\n\nThe debt which Transcendentalism owed to Unitarianism was not\nspeculative; neither was it immediate or direct. The Unitarians, clergy\nas well as laity, so far as the latter comprehended their position,\nacknowledged themselves to be friends of free thought in religion. This\nwas their distinction. They disavowed sympathy with dogmatism, partly\nbecause such dogmatism as there was existed in the minds of their\ntheological foes, and was felt in such persecution as society permitted;\nand partly because they honestly respected the human mind, and valued\nthought for its own sake. They had no creed, and no system of philosophy\non which a creed could be, by common consent, built. Rather were they\nopen inquirers, who asked questions and waited for rational answers,\nhaving no definite apprehension of the issue to which their\ninvestigations tended, but with room enough within the accepted theology\nto satisfy them; and work enough on the prevailing doctrines to keep\nthem employed. Under these circumstances, they honestly but incautiously\nprofessed a principle broader than they were able to stand by, and\navowed the absolute freedom of the human mind as their characteristic\nfaith; instead of a creed, the right to judge all creeds; instead of a\nsystem, authority to try every system by rules of evidence. The\nintellectual among them were at liberty to entertain views which an\northodox mind instinctively shrank from; to read books which an orthodox\nbeliever would not have touched with the ends of his fingers. The\nliterature on their tables represented a wide mental activity. Their\nlibraries contained authors never found before on ministerial shelves.\nSkepticism throve by what it fed on; and, before they had become fully\naware of the possible results of their diligent study, their powers had\nacquired a confidence that encouraged ventures beyond the walls of Zion.\nThis profession of free inquiry, and the practice of it within the\nextensive area of Protestant theology, opened the door to the new\nspeculation which carried unlooked-for heresies in its bosom; and before\nthe gates could be closed the insidious enemy had penetrated to the\ncitadel.\n\nThere was idealism in New England prior to the introduction of\nTranscendentalism. Idealism is of no clime or age. It has its proportion\nof disciples in every period and in the apparently most uncongenial\ncountries; a full proportion might have been looked for in New England.\nBut when Emerson appeared, the name of Idealism was legion. He alone was\ncompetent to form a school, and as soon as he rose, the scholars trooped\nabout him. By sheer force of genius Emerson anticipated the results of\nthe transcendental philosophy, defined its axioms and ran out their\ninferences to the end. Without help from abroad, or with such help only\nas none but he could use, he might have domesticated in Massachusetts an\nidealism as heroic as Fichte's, as beautiful as Schelling's; but it\nwould have lacked the dialectical basis of the great German systems.\n\nTranscendentalism, properly so called, was imported in foreign packages.\nFew read German, but most read French. As early as 1804, Degerando\nlectured on Kant's philosophy, in Paris; and as early as 1813 Mad. de\nStael gave an account of it. The number of copies of the original works\nof either Kant, Fichte, Jacobi or Schelling, that found their way to\nthe United States, was inconsiderable. Half a dozen eager students\nobtained isolated books of Herder, Schleiermacher, De Wette and other\ntheological and biblical writers, read them, translated chapters from\nthem, or sent notices of them to the Christian Examiner. The works of\nColeridge made familiar the leading ideas of Schelling. The foreign\nreviews reported the results and processes of French and German\nspeculation. In 1827, Thomas Carlyle wrote, in the Edinburgh Review, his\ngreat articles on Richter and the State of German Literature; in 1828\nappeared his essay on Goethe. Mr. Emerson presented these and other\npapers as \"Carlyle's Miscellanies\" to the American public. In 1838\nGeorge Ripley began the publication of the \"Specimens of Foreign\nStandard Literature,\" a series which extended to fourteen volumes; the\nfirst and second comprising philosophical miscellanies by Cousin,\nJouffroy and Constant, translated with introductions by Mr. Ripley\nhimself; the third devoted to Goethe and Schiller, with elaborate and\ndiscriminating prefaces by John S. Dwight; the fourth giving Eckermann's\nConversations with Goethe, done into English by Margaret Fuller; the\nthree next containing Menzel's German Literature, by Prof. C. C. Felton;\nthe eighth and ninth introducing Wm. H. Channing's version of Jouffroy's\nIntroduction to Ethics; the tenth and eleventh, DeWette's Theodor, by\nJames Freeman Clarke; the twelfth and thirteenth, DeWette's Ethics, by\nSamuel Osgood; and the last offering samples of German Lyrics, by\nCharles T. Brooks. These volumes, which were remarkably attractive,\nboth in form and contents, brought many readers into a close\nacquaintance with the teaching and the spirit of writers of the new\nschool.\n\nThe Philosophical Miscellanies of Cousin were much noticed by the press,\nGeorge Bancroft in especial sparing no pains to commend them and the\nviews they presented. The spiritual philosophy had no more fervent or\neloquent champion than he. No reader of his \"History of the United\nStates,\" has forgotten the noble tribute paid to it under the name of\nQuakerism, or the striking parallel between the two systems represented\nin the history by John Locke and Wm. Penn, both of whom framed\nconstitutions for the new world. For keenness of apprehension and\nfullness of statement the passages deserve to be quoted here. They occur\nin the XVI. chapter of the History.\n\n     \"The elements of humanity are always the same, the inner light\n     dawns upon every nation, and is the same in every age; and the\n     French revolution was a result of the same principles as those of\n     George Fox, gaining dominion over the mind of Europe. They are\n     expressed in the burning and often profound eloquence of Rousseau;\n     they reappear in the masculine philosophy of Kant. The professor of\n     Koenigsberg, like Fox and Barclay and Penn, derived philosophy from\n     the voice in the soul; like them, he made the oracle within the\n     categorical rule of practical morality, the motive to disinterested\n     virtue; like them, he esteemed the Inner Light, which discerns\n     universal and necessary truths, an element of humanity; and\n     therefore his philosophy claims for humanity the right of ever\n     renewed progress and reform. If the Quakers disguised their\n     doctrine under the form of theology, Kant concealed it for a\n     season under the jargon of a nervous but unusual diction. But\n     Schiller has reproduced the great idea in beautiful verse;\n     Chateaubriand avowed himself its advocate; Coleridge has repeated\n     the doctrine in misty language; it beams through the poetry of\n     Lamartine and Wordsworth; while in the country of beautiful prose,\n     the eloquent Cousin, listening to the same eternal voice which\n     connects humanity with universal reason, has gained a wide fame for\n     \"the divine principle,\" and in explaining the harmony between that\n     light and the light of Christianity, has often unconsciously\n     borrowed the language, and employed the arguments of Barclay and\n     Penn.\"\n\nA few pages later is the brilliant passage describing the essential\ndifference between this philosophy and that of Locke:\n\n     \"Locke, like William Penn, was tolerant; both loved freedom, both\n     cherished truth in sincerity. But Locke kindled the torch of\n     liberty at the fires of tradition; Penn at the living light in the\n     soul. Locke sought truth through the senses and the outward world;\n     Penn looked inward to the divine revelations in every mind. Locke\n     compared the soul to a sheet of white paper, just as Hobbes had\n     compared it to a slate on which time and chance might scrawl their\n     experience. To Penn the soul was an organ which of itself\n     instinctively breathes divine harmonies, like those musical\n     instruments which are so curiously and perfectly formed, that when\n     once set in motion, they of themselves give forth all the melodies\n     designed by the artist that made them. To Locke, conscience is\n     nothing else than our own opinion of our own actions; to Penn, it\n     is the image of God and his oracle in the soul.... In studying the\n     understanding Locke begins with the sources of knowledge; Penn with\n     an inventory of our intellectual treasures.... The system of Locke\n     lends itself to contending factions of the most opposite interests\n     and purposes; the doctrine of Fox and Penn, being but the common\n     creed of humanity, forbids division and insures the highest moral\n     unity. To Locke, happiness is pleasure, and things are good and\n     evil only in reference to pleasure and pain; and to \"inquire after\n     the highest good is as absurd as to dispute whether the best relish\n     be in apples, plums or nuts.\" Penn esteemed happiness to lie in the\n     subjection of the baser instincts to the instinct of Deity in the\n     breast; good and evil to be eternally and always as unlike as truth\n     and falsehood; and the inquiry after the highest good to involve\n     the purpose of existence. Locke says plainly that, but for rewards\n     and punishments beyond the grave, 'it is certainly right to eat and\n     drink, and enjoy what we delight in.' Penn, like Plato and Fenelon,\n     maintained the doctrine so terrible to despots, that God is to be\n     loved for His own sake, and virtue to be practised for its\n     intrinsic loveliness. Locke derives the idea of infinity from the\n     senses, describes it as purely negative, and attributes it to\n     nothing but space, duration and number; Penn derived the idea from\n     the soul, and ascribed it to truth and virtue and God. Locke\n     declares immortality a matter with which reason has nothing to do;\n     and that revealed truth must be sustained by outward signs and\n     visible acts of power; Penn saw truth by its own light and summoned\n     the soul to bear witness to its own glory.\"\n\nThe justice of the comparison, in the first part of the above extract,\nof Quakerism with Transcendentalism, may be disputed. Some may be of\nopinion that inasmuch as Quakerism traces the source of the Inner Light\nto the supernatural illumination of the Holy Spirit, while\nTranscendentalism regards it as a natural endowment of the human mind,\nthe two are fundamentally opposed while superficially in agreement.\nHowever this may be, the practical issues of the two coincide, and the\ntruth of the contrast presented between the philosophies, designated by\nthe name of Locke on the one side, and of Penn on the other, will not be\ndisputed. Mr. Bancroft's statement, though dazzling, is exact. It was\nmade in 1837. The third edition from which the above citation was made,\nwas published in 1838, the year of Mr. Emerson's address to the Divinity\nstudents at Cambridge.\n\nMr. Emerson had shown his hand plainly several years before. In 1832 he\nraised the whole issue in the \"epoch making\" sermon, in which he\nadvanced the view of the communion service that led to his resignation\nof the Christian ministry. His elder brother, William, returning from\nhis studies in Germany, was turned from the profession of the church\nwhich he had purposed entering, to the law, by similar scruples. In\n1834, James Walker printed in the \"Christian Examiner\" an address, which\nwas the same year published as a tract, by the American Unitarian\nAssociation, entitled \"The Philosophy of Man's Spiritual Nature in\nregard to the foundations of Faith,\" wherein he took frankly the\ntranscendental ground, contending:\n\n     \"That the existence of those spiritual faculties and capacities\n     which are assumed as the foundation of religion in the soul of man,\n     is attested, and put beyond controversy by the revelations of\n     consciousness; that religion in the soul, consisting as it does, of\n     a manifestation and development of these spiritual faculties and\n     capacities, is as much a reality in itself, and enters as\n     essentially into our idea of a perfect man, as the corresponding\n     manifestation and development of the reasoning faculties, a sense\n     of justice, or the affections of sympathy and benevolence; and\n     that from the acknowledged existence and reality of spiritual\n     impressions or perceptions, we may and do assume the existence and\n     reality of the spiritual world; just as from the acknowledged\n     existence and reality of sensible impressions or perceptions, we\n     may and do assume the existence and realities of the sensible\n     world.\"\n\nIn this discourse, for originally it was a discourse, the worst species\nof infidelity is charged to the \"Sensational\" philosophy, and at the\nclose, the speaker in impressive language, said:\n\n     \"Let us hope that a better philosophy than the degrading sensualism\n     out of which most forms of infidelity have grown, will prevail, and\n     that the minds of the rising generation will be thoroughly imbued\n     with it. Let it be a philosophy which recognizes the higher nature\n     of man, and aims, in a chastened and reverential spirit, to unfold\n     the mysteries of his higher life. Let it be a philosophy which\n     comprehends the soul, a soul susceptible of religion, of the\n     sublime principle of faith, of a faith which 'entereth into that\n     within the veil.' Let it be a philosophy which continually reminds\n     us of our intimate relations to the spiritual world; which opens to\n     us new sources of consolation in trouble, and new sources of life\n     in death--nay, which teaches us that what we call _death_ is but\n     the dying of all that is mortal, that nothing but life may remain.\"\n\nIn 1840, the same powerful advocate of the transcendental doctrine, in a\ndiscourse before the alumni of the Cambridge Divinity School, declared\nthat the return to a higher order of ideas, to a living faith in God, in\nChrist, and in the church, had been promoted by such men as\nSchleiermacher and De Wette; gave his opinion that the religious\ncommunity had reason to look with distrust and dread on a philosophy\nwhich limited the ideas of the human mind to the information imparted by\nthe senses, and denied the existence of spiritual elements in the nature\nof man; and again welcomed the philosophy taught in England by Butler,\nReid and Coleridge; in Germany, by Kant, Jacobi and Schleiermacher; in\nFrance, by Cousin, Jouffroy and Degerando. Such words from James Walker,\nalways a favorite teacher with young men, a mind of judicial authority\nin the liberal community, and at that time Professor of Moral Philosophy\nat Harvard College, made a deep impression. When he said: \"Men may put\ndown Transcendentalism if they can, but they must first deign to\ncomprehend its principles,\" the most conservative began to surmise that\nthere must be something in Transcendentalism.\n\nBut before this the movement was well under way. In 1836, Emerson's\n\"Nature\" broke through the shell of accepted opinions on a very\nessential subject: true, but five hundred copies were sold in twelve\nyears; critics and philosophers could make nothing of it; but those who\nread it recognized signs of a new era, even if they could not describe\nthem; and many who did not read it felt in the atmosphere the change it\nintroduced. The idealism of the little book was uncompromising.\n\n     \"In the presence of ideas we feel that the outward circumstance is\n     a dream and a shade. Whilst we wait in this Olympus of gods, we\n     think of nature as an appendix to the soul. We ascend into their\n     region, and know that these are the thoughts of the Supreme\n     Being.\"... \"Idealism is an hypothesis to account for nature by\n     other principles than those of carpentry and chemistry. It\n     acquaints us with the total disparity between the evidence of our\n     own being, and the evidence of the world's being. The world is a\n     divine dream, from which we may presently awake to the glories and\n     certainties of day.\"\n\nThe same year, George Ripley reviewed in the \"Christian Examiner,\"\nMartineau's \"Rationale of Religious Enquiry.\" The article was furiously\nassailed in the Boston Daily Advertiser. Mr. Ripley replied in the paper\nof the next day, vindicating the ideas of the review and of the book as\nbeing strictly in consonance with the principles of liberal\nChristianity.\n\nIn 1838 came the wonderful \"address\" before the Cambridge Divinity\nSchool, which stirred the soul of aspiring young men, and, wakened the\nwrath of sedate old ones. It was idealism in its full blaze, and it made\nthe germs of Transcendentalism struggle in the sods.\n\nThe next year Andrews Norton attacked the new philosophy in a discourse\nbefore the same audience, on \"The Latest Form of Infidelity.\" The\ndoctrine of that discourse was \"Sensationalism\" in its boldest aspect.\n\n     \"Christ was commissioned by God to speak to us in His name, and to\n     make known to us, on His authority, those truths which it most\n     concerns us to know; and there can be no greater miracle than this.\n     No proof of His divine commission could be afforded but through\n     miraculous displays of God's power. Nothing is left that can be\n     called Christianity, if its miraculous character be denied. Its\n     essence is gone; its evidence is annihilated.\"... \"To the demand\n     for certainty let it come from whom it may, I answer that I know of\n     no absolute certainty beyond the limit of momentary consciousness;\n     a certainty that vanishes the instant it exists, and is lost in the\n     region of metaphysical doubt.\"... \"There can be no intuition, no\n     direct perception of the truth of Christianity, no metaphysical\n     certainty.\"... \"Of the facts on which religion is founded, we can\n     pretend to no assurance except that derived from the testimony of\n     God from the Christian revelation.\"\n\nA pamphlet defending the discourse contained passages like the\nfollowing: \"The doctrine that the mind possesses a faculty of\nintuitively discovering the truths of religion, is not only utterly\nuntenable, but the proposition is of such a character that it cannot\nwell bear the test of being distinctly stated. The question respecting\nthe existence of such a faculty is not difficult to be decided. We are\nnot conscious of possessing any such faculty; and there can be no other\nproof of its existence. Its defenders shrink from presenting it in broad\ndaylight. They are disposed to keep it out of view behind a cloud of\nwords.\"... \"Consciousness or intuition can inform us of nothing but what\nexists in our own minds, including the relations of our own ideas. It is\ntherefore not an intelligible error, but a mere absurdity to maintain\nthat we are conscious, or have an intuitive knowledge of the being of\nGod, of our own immortality, of the revelation of God through Christ, or\nof any other fact of religion.\"... \"The religion of which they (the\nTranscendentalists) speak, therefore, exists merely, if it exist at all,\nin undefined and unintelligible feelings, having reference, perhaps, to\ncertain imaginations, the result of impressions communicated in\nchildhood or produced by the visible signs of religious belief existing\naround us, or awakened by the beautiful and magnificent spectacles which\nnature presents.\"\n\nMr. Norton spoke with biting severity of the masters of German\nphilosophy, criticism, and literature, and exhausted his sarcasm on the\naddress of Mr. Emerson delivered the previous year. To Mr. Norton, Mr.\nRipley made prompt and earnest, though temperate, reply in three long\nand powerful letters, devoted mainly to a refutation of his adversary's\naccusations against Spinoza, Schleiermacher, De Wette, and the\nphilosophic theologians of Germany. Not till the end does he take issue\nwith the fundamental positions of Mr. Norton's philosophy; then he\nbrands as \"revolting\" the doctrine that \"there can be no intuition, no\ndirect perception of the truth of Christianity;\" that \"the feeling or\ndirect perception of religious truth\" is an \"imaginary faculty;\" and\naffirms his conviction that \"the principle that the soul has no faculty\nto perceive spiritual truth, is contradicted by the universal\nconsciousness of man.\"\n\n     \"Does the body see,\" he asks, \"and is the spirit blind? No, man has\n     the faculty for feeling and perceiving religious truth. So far from\n     being imaginary, it is the highest reality of which the pure soul\n     is conscious. Can I be more certain that I am capable of looking\n     out and admiring the forms of external beauty, 'the frail and weary\n     weed in which God dresses the soul that he has called into time,'\n     than that I can also look within, and commune with the fairer forms\n     of truth and holiness which plead for my love, as visitants from\n     Heaven?\"\n\nThe controversy was taken up by other pens. In 1840, Theodore Parker,\nspeaking as a plain man under the name of Levi Blodgett, \"moved and\nhandled the Previous Question\" after a fashion that betrayed the\npractised thinker and scribe. Mr. Parker occupied substantially the same\nground that was taken by James Walker in 1834.\n\n     \"The germs of religion, both the germs of religious principle and\n     religious sentiment, must be born in man, or innate, as our\n     preacher says. I reckon that man is by nature a religious being,\n     _i. e._ that he was made to be religious, as much as an ox was made\n     to eat grass. The existence of God is a fact given in our nature:\n     it is not something discovered by a process of reasoning, by a long\n     series of deductions from facts; nor yet is it the last\n     generalization from phenomena observed in the universe of mind or\n     matter. But it is a truth fundamental in our nature; given outright\n     by God; a truth which comes to light as soon as self-consciousness\n     begins. Still further, I take a sense of dependence on God to be a\n     natural and essential sentiment of the soul, as much as feeling,\n     seeing and hearing are natural sensations of the body. Here, then,\n     are the religious instincts which lead man to God and religion,\n     just as naturally as the intellectual instincts lead him to truth,\n     and animal instincts to his food. As there is light for the eye,\n     sound for the ear, food for the palate, friends for the affections,\n     beauty for the imagination, truth for the reason, duty for\n     conscience--so there is God for the religious sentiment or sense of\n     dependence on Him. Now all these presuppose one another, as a want\n     essential to the structure of man's mind or body presupposes\n     something to satisfy it. And as the sensation of hunger presupposes\n     food to satisfy it, so the sense of dependence on God presupposes\n     his existence and character.\"\n\nFrom these premises Mr. Parker proceeds to discuss the questions about\nmiracles, inspiration, revelation, the character and functions of\nJesus, the Christ, and kindred matters belonging to the general\ncontroversy. The year following, he preached the sermon on the\n\"Transient and Permanent in Christianity,\" which brought out the issues\nbetween the \"Sensationalists\" and the \"Transcendentalists,\" and was the\noccasion of detaching the latter from the original body.\n\nThe first series of Emerson's \"Essays\" containing \"Self Reliance,\"\n\"Compensation,\" \"Spiritual Laws,\" \"The Over Soul,\" \"Circles,\"\n\"Intellect,\" was published during that year, and was followed almost\nimmediately by \"The Transcendentalist,\" a lecture read in Masonic\nTemple, Boston. In this lecture occurs the following allusion to Kant:\n\n     \"The Idealism of the present day acquired the name of\n     Transcendental from the use of that term by Immanuel Kant of\n     Koenigsberg, who replied to the skeptical philosophy of Locke, which\n     insisted that there was nothing in the intellect which was not\n     previously in the experience of the senses, by showing that there\n     was a very important class of ideas or imperative forms, which did\n     not come by experience, but through which experience was acquired;\n     that these were intuitions of the mind itself; and he denominated\n     them _Transcendental_ forms. The extraordinary profoundness and\n     precision of that man's thinking have given vogue to his\n     nomenclature in Europe and America, to that extent that whatever\n     belongs to the class of intuitive thought is popularly called, at\n     the present day, Transcendental.\"... \"The Transcendentalist adopts\n     the whole connection of spiritual doctrine. He believes in\n     miracles, in the perpetual openness of the human mind to new influx\n     of light and power; he believes in inspiration and ecstasy. He\n     wishes that the spiritual principle should be suffered to\n     demonstrate itself to the end, in all possible applications to the\n     state of man, without the admission of anything unspiritual, that\n     is, anything positive, dogmatic, personal.\"\n\nFrom what has been said it may be inferred that Transcendentalism in New\nEngland was a movement within the limits of \"liberal\" Christianity or\nUnitarianism as it was called, and had none but a religious aspect. Such\nan inference would be narrow. In 1838, Orestes Augustus Brownson started\n\"The Boston Quarterly Review,\" instituted for the discussion of\nquestions in politics, art, literature, science, philosophy and\nreligion. The editor who was the principal, and almost the sole writer,\nfrankly declares that \"he had no creed, no distinct doctrines to support\nwhatever;\" that he \"aimed to startle, and made it a point to be as\nparadoxical and extravagant as he could, without doing violence to his\nown reason or conscience.\" This avowal was made in 1857, after Mr.\nBrownson had become a Roman Catholic. The pages of the Review prove the\nwriter to have been a pronounced Transcendentalist. A foreign journal\ncalled him \"the Coryphoeus of the sect,\" a designation which, at the\ntime, was meekly accepted.\n\nMr. Brownson was a remarkable man, remarkable for intellectual force,\nand equally for intellectual wilfulness. His mind was restless,\naudacious, swift; his self assertion was immense; his thoughts came in\nfloods; his literary style was admirable for freshness, terseness and\nvigor. Of rational stability of principle he had nothing, but was\ncompletely at the mercy of every novelty in speculation. That others\nthought as he did, was enough to make him think otherwise; that he\nthought as he had six months before was a signal that it was time for\nhim to strike his tent and move on. An experimenter in systems, a taster\nof speculations, he passed rapidly from one phase to another, so that\nhis friends ascribed his steadfastness to Romanism, to the fatigue of\nintellectual travelling. Mr. Brownson was born in Stockbridge, Vt.,\nSept. 16, 1803. His education was scanty; his nurture was neglected; his\ndiscipline, if such it can be called, was to the last degree unwise. The\nchild had visions, fancied he had received communications from the\nChrist, and held spiritual intercourse with the Virgin Mary, Angels and\nSaints. Of a sensitive nature on the moral and spiritual side,\ninterested from boyhood in religious speculations, he had, before he\nreached man's estate, asked and answered, in his own passionate way, all\nthe deepest questions of destiny. At the age of 21, he passed from\nSupernaturalism to Rationalism; at 22 became a Universalist minister; at\n28 adopted what he called \"The Religion of Humanity;\" the year\nfollowing, joined the Unitarian ministry. At this time he studied French\nand German, and became fervidly addicted to philosophy. Benjamin\nConstant's theory of religion fascinated him by its brilliant\ngeneralizations, and its novel readings of Mythology, and was\nimmediately adopted because it interested him and fell in with his mood\nof mind. In 1833, he accepted Cousin's philosophy as he had accepted\nConstant's, \"attending to those things that I could appropriate to my\npurposes.\" In 1836 he organized the \"Society for Christian Union and\nProgress\" in Boston, and continued to be its minister till 1843. All\nthis time he was dallying with Socialism, principally in the form of St.\nSimonianism; thought of himself as possibly the precursor of the\nMessiah; threw out strange heresies on the subject of property and the\nmodern industrial system; and was suspected, he declared afterwards\nunjustly suspected, of holding loose opinions on love and marriage. \"New\nViews of Christianity, Society and the Church,\" appeared in 1836, a\nlittle book, written in answer to objections brought against\nChristianity as being a system of extravagant spiritualism. This idea\nMr. Brownson combated, by pointing out the true character of the\nreligion of Jesus as contrasted with the schemes that had borne his\nname, exposing the corruptions it had undergone, during the succeeding\nages, from Protestantism as well as from Romanism, and indicating the\nmethod and the signs of a return to the primeval faith which reconciled\nGod and man, spirit and matter, soul and body, heaven and earth, in the\nestablishment of just relations between man and man, the institution of\na simply human state of society.\n\n\"Charles Elwood, or The Infidel Converted,\" was published in 1840. Two\nor three passages from this theological discussion, thinly masked in the\nguise of a novel, will suffice to class the author with\nTranscendentalists of the advanced school.\n\n     \"They who deny to man all inherent capacity to know God, all\n     immediate perception of spiritual truth, place man out of the\n     condition of ever knowing anything of God.\"... \"There must be a God\n     within to recognize and vouch for the God who speaks to us from\n     without.\"... \"I hold that the ideas or conceptions which man\n     attempts to embody or realize in his forms of religious faith and\n     worship, are intuitions of reason.\" \"I understand by inspiration\n     the spontaneous revelations of the reason; and I call these\n     revelations divine, because I hold the reason to be divine. Its\n     voice is the voice of God, and what it reveals without any aid from\n     human agency, is really and truly a divine revelation.\"... \"This\n     reason is in all men. Hence the universal beliefs of mankind, the\n     universality of the belief in God and religion. Hence, too, the\n     power of all men to judge of supernatural revelations.\"... \"All are\n     able to detect the supernatural, because all have the supernatural\n     in themselves.\"\n\nThe \"Boston Quarterly,\" was maintained five years,--from 1838 to 1842\ninclusive,--and consequently covered this period. It would therefore be\nsafe to assume, what the volumes themselves attest, that whatever\nsubject was dealt with,--and all conceivable subjects were dealt\nwith,--were handled by the transcendental method. In the \"Christian\nWorld,\" a short-lived weekly, published by a brother of Dr. W. E.\nChanning, Mr. Brownson began the publication of a series of articles on\nthe \"Mission of Jesus.\" Seven were admitted; the eighth was declined as\nbeing \"Romanist\" in its outlook. In 1844, the writer avowed himself a\nRoman Catholic, and was confirmed in Boston, October 20th. The\n\"Convert,\" which contains the spiritual biography of this extraordinary\nman, and from which the above facts in his mental history are partly\ntaken, was published in 1857. The Romanist was at that time essentially\na Transcendentalist. \"Truth,\" he writes, \"is the mind's object, and it\nseeks and accepts it intuitively, as the new-born child seeks the\nmother's breast from which it draws its nourishment. The office of proof\nor even demonstration is negative rather than affirmative.\" Mr. Brownson\nwas the most eminent convert to Romanism of this period, when\nconversions were frequent in Boston; and his influence was considerable\nin turning uneasy minds to the old faith. He was a powerful writer and\nlecturer, an occasional visitor at Brook Farm, but his mental\nbaselessness perhaps repelled nearly as many as his ingenuity beguiled.\n\nThe literary achievements of Transcendentalism are best exhibited in the\n\"Dial,\" a quarterly \"Magazine for Literature, Philosophy and Religion,\"\nbegun July, 1840, and ending April, 1844. The editors were Margaret\nFuller and R. W. Emerson; the contributors were the bright men and women\nwho gave voice in literary form to the various utterances of the\ntranscendental genius. Mr. Emerson's bravest lectures and noblest poems\nwere first printed there. Margaret Fuller, besides numerous pieces of\nmiscellaneous criticism, contributed the article on Goethe, alone enough\nto establish her fame as a discerner of spirits, and the paper on \"The\nGreat Lawsuit; Man versus Men--Woman versus Women,\" which was afterwards\nexpanded into the book \"Woman in the XIXth century.\" Bronson Alcott\nsent in chapters the \"Orphic Sayings,\" which were an amazement to the\nuninitiated and an amusement to the profane. Charles Emerson, younger\nbrother of the essayist, whose premature death was bewailed by the\nadmirers of intellect and the lovers of pure character, proved by his\n\"Notes from the Journal of a Scholar,\" that genius was not confined to a\nsingle member of his family. George Ripley, James Freeman Clarke,\nTheodore Parker, Wm. H. Channing, Henry Thoreau, Eliot Cabot, John S.\nDwight the musical critic, C. P. Cranch the artist-poet, Wm. E.\nChanning, were liberal of contributions, all in characteristic ways; and\nunnamed men and women did their part to fill the numbers of this most\nremarkable magazine. The freshest thoughts on all subjects were brought\nto the editors' table; social tendencies were noticed; books were\nreceived; the newest picture, the last concert, was passed upon;\njudicious estimates were made of reforms and reformers abroad as well as\nat home; the philosophical discussions were able and discriminating; the\ntheological papers were learned, broad and fresh. The four volumes are\nexceedingly rich in poetry, and poetry such as seldom finds a place in\npopular magazines. The first year's issue contained sixty-six pieces;\nthe second, thirty-five; the third, fifty; the fourth, thirty-three;\namong these were Emerson's earliest inspirations. The \"Problem,\"\n\"Wood-notes,\" \"The Sphinx,\" \"Saadi,\" \"Ode to Beauty,\" \"To Rhea,\" first\nappeared in the \"Dial.\" Harps that had long been silent, unable to make\nthemselves heard amid the din of the later generation, made their music\nhere. For Transcendentalism was essentially poetical and put its\nthoughts naturally into song. The poems in the \"Dial,\" even leaving out\nthe famous ones that have been printed since with their authors' names,\nwould make an interesting and attractive volume. How surprised would\nsome of those writers be if they should now in their prosaic days read\nwhat then they wrote under the spell of that fine frenzy!\n\nThe following mystic poem, which might have come from an ancient\nEgyptian, dropped from one who has since become distinguished for\nsomething very different from mysticism. Has he seen it these many\nyears? Can he believe that he was ever in the mood to write it? It is\ncalled\n\nVIA SACRA.\n\n    Slowly along the crowded street I go,\n    Marking with reverent look each passer's face,\n    Seeking and not in vain, in each to trace\n    That primal soul whereof he is the show.\n    For here still move, by many eyes unseen,\n    The blessed gods that erst Olympus kept.\n    Through every guise these lofty forms serene\n    Declare the all-holding life hath never slept,\n    But known each thrill that in man's heart hath been,\n    And every tear that his sad eyes have wept.\n    Alas for us! the heavenly visitants,--\n    We greet them still as most unwelcome guests\n    Answering their smile with hateful looks askance,\n    Their sacred speech with foolish, bitter jests;\n    But oh! what is it to imperial Jove\n    That this poor world refuses all his love?\n\nA remarkable feature of the \"Dial\" were the chapters of \"Ethnical\nScriptures,\" seven in all, containing texts from the Veeshnu Sarma, the\nlaws of Menu, Confucius, the Desatir, the Chinese \"Four Books,\" Hermes\nTrismegistus, the Chaldaean Oracles. Thirty-five years ago, these\nScriptures, now so accessible, and in portions so familiar, were known\nto the few, and were esteemed by none but scholars, whose enthusiasm for\nancient literature got the better of their religious faith. To read such\nthings then, showed an enlightened and courageous mind; to print them in\na magazine under the sacred title of \"Scriptures\" argued a most\nextraordinary breadth of view. In offering these chapters to its\nreaders, without apology and on their intrinsic merits,\nTranscendentalism exhibited its power to overpass the limits of all\nspecial religions, and do perfect justice to all expressions of the\nreligious sentiment.\n\nThe creed of Transcendentalism has been sufficiently indicated. It had a\ncreed, and a definite one. In his lecture on \"The Transcendentalist,\"\nread in 1841, Mr. Emerson seems disposed to consider Transcendentalism\nmerely as a phase of idealism.\n\n     \"Shall we say then that Transcendentalism is the Saturnalia or\n     excess of Faith; the presentiment of a faith proper to man in his\n     integrity, excessive only when his imperfect obedience hinders the\n     satisfaction of his wit. Nature is Transcendental, exists\n     primarily, necessarily, ever works and advances; yet takes no\n     thought for the morrow. Man owns the dignity of the life which\n     throbs around him in chemistry, and tree, and animal, and in the\n     involuntary functions of his own body; yet he is balked when he\n     tries to fling himself into this enchanted circle, where all is\n     done without degradation. Yet genius and virtue predict in man the\n     same absence of private ends, and of condescension to\n     circumstances, united with every trait and talent of beauty and\n     power.\"... \"This way of thinking, falling on Roman times, made\n     stoic philosophers; falling on despotic times made patriot Catos\n     and Brutuses; falling on superstitious times, made prophets and\n     apostles; on popish times, made protestants and ascetic monks;\n     preachers of Faith against preachers of Works; on prelatical times,\n     made Puritans and Quakers; and falling on Unitarian and commercial\n     times, makes the peculiar shades of Idealism which we know.\"\n\nIt is audacious to criticize Mr. Emerson on a point like this; but\ncandor compels the remark that the above description does less than\njustice to the definiteness of the transcendental movement. It was\nsomething more than a reaction against formalism and tradition, though\nit took that form. It was more than a reaction against Puritan\nOrthodoxy, though in part it was that. It was in a very small degree due\nto study of the ancient pantheists, of Plato and the Alexandrians, of\nPlutarch, Seneca and Epictetus, though one or two of the leaders had\ndrunk deeply from these sources. Transcendentalism was a distinct\nphilosophical system. Practically it was an assertion of the inalienable\nworth of man; theoretically it was an assertion of the immanence of\ndivinity in instinct, the transference of supernatural attributes to the\nnatural constitution of mankind.\n\nSuch a faith would necessarily be protean in its aspects. Philosopher,\nCritic, Moralist, Poet, would give it voice according to cast of\ngenius. It would present in turn all the phases of idealism, and to the\noutside spectator seem a mass of wild opinions; but running through all\nwas the belief in the Living God in the Soul, faith in immediate\ninspiration, in boundless possibility, and in unimaginable good.\n\nThe editors and reviewers of its day could make nothing of it. The most\nentertaining part of the present writer's task has been the reading of\narticles on Transcendentalism in the contemporaneous magazines. The\nreviewers were unable to resist the temptation to make themselves\nridiculous. The quarterlies and monthlies are before me, looking as if\nthey resented the exposure of their dusty and musty condition, and would\nconceal if they could the baldness of their wit. It would be cruel to\nexhume those antique judgments, so honest, yet so imbecile and so\nmistaken. The doubts and misgivings, the bitternesses and the horrors,\nthe sinkings of heart and the revolvings of soul may be estimated by any\nwho will consult the numbers of the Christian Examiner, the Biblical\nRepository, the Princeton Review, the New Englander, the Whig Review,\nKnickerbocker, (Knickerbocker is especially facetious), but we advise\nnone to do it who would retain their respect for honorable names. The\nwriters, let us hope, did the best they knew, and it would be unkind to\nexpose the theological prejudice, the polemical acrimony, the narrowness\nand flippancy they would have been ashamed of had they been aware of it.\n\nA good example of the courteous kind of injustice may be found in the\nChristian Examiner for January, 1837, in a review of \"Nature\" from the\npen of a Cambridge Professor, who writes in a kindly spirit and with an\nhonest intention to be fair to a movement with which he had no\nintellectual sympathy:\n\n     \"The aim of the Transcendentalists is high. They profess to look\n     not only beyond facts, but, without the aid of facts, to\n     principles. What is this but Plato's doctrine of innate, eternal\n     and immutable ideas on the consideration of which all science is\n     founded? Truly, the human mind advances but too often in a circle.\n     The New School has abandoned Bacon, only to go back and wander in\n     the groves of the Academy, and to bewilder themselves with the\n     dreams which first arose in the fervid imagination of the Greeks.\n     Without questioning the desirableness of this end, of considering\n     general truths without any previous examination of particulars, we\n     may well doubt the power of modern philosophers to attain it.\n     Again, they are busy in the enquiry (to adopt their own\n     phraseology) after the Real and Absolute, as distinguished from the\n     Apparent. Not to repeat the same doubt as to their success, we may\n     at least request them to beware lest they strip the truth of its\n     relation to Humanity, and thus deprive it of its usefulness.\"\n\nWe quote this passage not merely to show how inevitably the best\nintentioned critics of Transcendentalism fell into sarcasm, nor to\nillustrate the species of error into which the \"Sensational\" philosophy\nbetrayed even candid minds; but to call attention to another point,\nnamely, the general misconception of the practical aims and purposes of\nthe new school. It was a common prejudice that Transcendentalists were\nvisionaries and enthusiasts, who in pursuit of principles neglected\nduties, and while seeking for The Real and The Absolute forgot the\nactual and the relative. Macaulay puts the case strongly in his article\non Lord Bacon:\n\n     \"To sum up the whole; we should say that the aim of the Platonic\n     philosophy was to exalt man into a God. The aim of the Baconian\n     philosophy was to provide man with what he requires while he\n     continues to be man. The aim of the Platonic philosophy was to\n     raise us far above vulgar wants. The aim of the Baconian philosophy\n     was to supply our wants. The former aim was noble; but the latter\n     was attainable. Plato drew a good bow; but, like Acestes in Virgil,\n     he aimed at the stars; and though there was no want of strength and\n     skill, the shot was thrown away. Bacon fixed his eye on a mark\n     which was placed on the earth, and within bow shot, and hit it in\n     the white. The philosophy of Plato began in words and ended in\n     words--noble words indeed; words such as were to be expected from\n     the finest of human intellects exercising boundless control over\n     the finest of human languages. The philosophy of Bacon began in\n     observations and ended in arts. The smallest actual good is better\n     than the most magnificent promises of impossibilities. The truth\n     is, that in those very matters for the sake of which they neglected\n     all the vulgar interests of mankind, the ancient philosophers did\n     nothing or worse than nothing--they promised what was\n     impracticable; they despised what was practicable; they filled the\n     world with long words and long beards; and they left it as wicked\n     and as ignorant as they found it.\"\n\nSubstitute Idealism for Platonism, and Transcendentalists for ancient\nphilosophers, and this expresses the judgment of \"sensible men\" of the\nlast generation, on Transcendentalism. It was not perceived that the\ntwo schools of philosophy aimed at producing the same results, but by\ndifferent methods; that the \"Sensationalist\" worked up from beneath by\nmaterial processes, while the \"Idealist\" worked downward from above by\nintellectual ones; that the former tried to push men up by mechanical\nappliances, and the latter endeavored to draw them up by spiritual\nattraction; that while the disciples of Bacon operated on man as if he\nwas a complex animal, a creature of nature and of circumstances, who was\nborne along with the material progress of the planet, but had no\nindependent power of flight, the disciples of Kant and Fichte assumed\nthat man was a creative, recreative force, a being who had only to be\nconscious of the capacities within him to shape circumstances according\nto the pattern shown him on the Mount. The charge of shooting at stars\nis puerile. The only use they would make of stars was to \"hitch wagons\"\nto them. The Transcendentalists of New England were the most strenuous\nworkers of their day, and at the problems which the day flung down\nbefore them. The most strenuous, and the most successful workers too.\nThey achieved more practical benefit for society, in proportion to their\nnumbers and the duration of their existence, than any body of Baconians\nof whom we ever heard. Men and women are healthier in their bodies,\nhappier in their domestic and social relations, more contented in their\nestate, more ambitious to enlarge their opportunities, more eager to\nacquire knowledge, more kind and humane in their sympathies, more\nreasonable in their expectations, than they would have been if Margaret\nFuller and Ralph Waldo Emerson and Theodore Parker and George Ripley and\nBronson Alcott, and the rest of their fellow believers and fellow\nworkers had not lived. It is the fashion of our generation to hold that\nprogress is, and must of necessity be, exceedingly gradual; and that no\nsafe advance is ever made except at snail's pace. But ever and anon the\nmind of man refutes the notion by starting under the influence of a\nthought, and leaping over long reaches of space at a bound.\nTranscendentalism gave one of these demonstrations, sufficient to refute\nthe vulgar prejudice. Its brief history may have illustrated the truth\nof Wordsworth's lines,\n\n    \"That 'tis a thing impossible to frame\n     Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires;\n     And the most difficult of tasks to keep\n     Heights which the Soul is competent to gain.\"\n\nThe heights were gained nevertheless, and kept long enough for a view of\nthe land of promise; and ever since, though the ascent is a dim\nrecollection, and the great forms have come to look like images in\ndreams, and the mighty voices are but ghostly echoes, men and women have\nbeen happy in laboring for the heaven their fathers believed they saw.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nPRACTICAL TENDENCIES.\n\n\nMr. Emerson--we find ourselves continually appealing to him as the\nfinest interpreter of the transcendental movement--made a confession\nwhich its enemies were quick to seize on and turn to their purpose.\n\n     \"It is a sign of our times, conspicuous to the coarsest observer,\n     that many intelligent and religious persons withdraw themselves\n     from the common labors and competitions of the market and the\n     caucus, and betake themselves to a certain solitary and critical\n     way of living, from which no solid fruit has yet appeared to\n     justify their separation. They hold themselves aloof; they feel the\n     disproportion between themselves and the work offered them, and\n     they prefer to ramble in the country and perish of ennui, to the\n     degradation of such charities and such ambitions as the city can\n     propose to them. They are striking work and crying out for somewhat\n     worthy to do. They are lonely; the spirit of their writing and\n     conversation is lonely; they repel influences; they shun general\n     society; they incline to shut themselves in their chamber in the\n     house; to live in the country rather than in the town; and to find\n     their tasks and amusements in solitude. They are not good citizens;\n     not good members of society; unwillingly they bear their part of\n     the public and private burdens; they do not willingly share in the\n     public charities, in the public religious rites, in the enterprises\n     of education, of missions, foreign or domestic, in the abolition of\n     the slave trade, or in the temperance society. They do not even\n     like to vote. The philanthropists inquire whether Transcendentalism\n     does not mean sloth; they had as lief hear that their friend is\n     dead as that he is a Transcendentalist; for then is he paralyzed,\n     and can do nothing for humanity.\"\n\nThis extreme statement must not be taken as either complete or\ncomprehensive. They who read it in the lecture on \"The Transcendentalist\"\nmust be careful to notice Mr. Emerson's qualifications, that\n\"this retirement does not proceed from any whim on the part of the\nseparators;\" that \"this part is chosen both from temperament and\nfrom principle; with some unwillingness too, and as a choice of\nthe less of two evils;\" \"that they are joyous, susceptible,\naffectionate;\" that \"they wish a just and even fellowship or none;\" that\n\"what they do is done because they are overpowered by the humanities\nthat speak on all sides;\" that \"what you call your fundamental\ninstitutions, your great and holy causes, seem to them great abuses,\nand, when nearly seen, paltry matters.\" But even this apology does not\nquite exonerate his friends.\n\nTranscendentalism certainly did produce its share of idle, dreamy,\nuseless people--as \"Sensationalism\" produced its share of coarse,\ngreedy, low-lived and bestial ones. But its legitimate fruit was\nearnestness, aspiration and enthusiastic energy.\n\nWe must begin with the philosophy of Man. The Transcendentalist claims\nfor all men as a natural endowment what \"Evangelical\" Christianity\nascribes to the few as a special gift of the Spirit. This faith comes\nto expression continually. The numbers of the \"Dial\" are alight with\nit.\n\n     \"Man is a rudiment and embryon of God: Eternity shall develop in\n     him the Divine Image.\"\n\n     \"The Soul works from centre to periphery, veiling her labors from\n     the ken of the senses.\"\n\n     \"The sensible world is spirit in magnitude outspread before the\n     senses for their analysis, but whose synthesis is the soul herself,\n     whose prothesis is God.\"\n\n     \"The time may come, in the endless career of the soul, when the\n     facts of incarnation, birth, death, descent into matter, and\n     ascension from it, shall comprise no part of her history; when she\n     herself shall survey this human life with emotions akin to those of\n     the naturalist on examining the relics of extinct races of beings.\"\n\n     \"Of the perception now fast becoming a conscious fact,--that there\n     is one mind, and that also the powers and privileges which lie in\n     any, lie in all; that I, as a man, may claim and appropriate\n     whatever of true or fair or good or strong has anywhere been\n     exhibited; that Moses and Confucius, Montaigne and Leibnitz are not\n     so much individuals as they are parts of man and parts of me, and\n     my intelligence proves them my own,--literature is far the best\n     expression.\"\n\nThus Mr. Alcott and Mr. Emerson. Thomas T. Stone,--a modest, retiring,\ndeep and interior man, a child of the spiritual philosophy, which he\nfaithfully lived in and up to, and preached with singular fulness and\nrichness of power--makes his statement thus, in an article entitled \"Man\nin the Ages,\" contributed to the third number of the \"Dial\":\n\n     \"Man is man, despite of all the lies which would convince him he is\n     not, despite of all the thoughts which would strive to unman him.\n     There is a spirit in man, an inspiration from the Almighty. What\n     is, is. The eternal is eternal; the temporary must pass it by,\n     leaving it to stand evermore. There is now, there has been always,\n     power among men to subdue the ages, to dethrone them, to make them\n     mere outgoings and servitors of man. It is needed only that we\n     assert our prerogative,--that man do with hearty faith affirm: 'I\n     am; in me being is. Ages, ye come and go; appear and disappear;\n     products, not life; vapors from the surface of the soul, not living\n     fountain. Ye are of me, for me, not I of you or for you. Not with\n     you my affinity, but with the Eternal. I am; I live; spirit I have\n     not; spirit am I.'\"\n\nSamuel D. Robbins, another earnest prophet of the spiritual man, utters\nthe creed again in the way peculiar to himself.\n\n     \"There is an infinity in the human soul which few have yet\n     believed, and after which few have aspired. There is a lofty power\n     of moral principle in the depths of our nature which is nearly\n     allied to Omnipotence; compared with which the whole force of\n     outward nature is more feeble than an infant's grasp. There is a\n     spiritual insight to which the pure soul reaches, more clear and\n     prophetic, more wide and vast than all telescopic vision can\n     typify. There is a faith in God, and a clear perception of His will\n     and designs, and providence, and glory, which gives to its\n     possessor a confidence and patience and sweet composure, under\n     every varied and troubling aspect of events, such as no man can\n     realize who has not felt its influences in his own heart. There is\n     a communion with God, in which the soul feels the presence of the\n     unseen One, in the profound depths of its being, with a vivid\n     distinctness and a holy reverence such as no word can describe.\n     There is a state of union with God, I do not say often reached, yet\n     it has been attained in this world, in which all the past and\n     present and future seem reconciled, and eternity is won and\n     enjoyed: and God and man, earth and heaven, with all their\n     mysteries are apprehended in truth as they lie in the mind of the\n     Infinite.\"\n\nThe poet chimes in with the prophet. We marked for quotation several\npassages from the \"Dial,\" but a few detached stanzas must suffice. C. P.\nCranch opens his lines to the ocean thus:\n\n    Tell me, brothers, what are we?\n    Spirits bathing in the sea of Deity.\n    Half afloat, and half on land,\n    Wishing much to leave the strand,\n    Standing, gazing with devotion,\n    Yet afraid to trust the ocean,\n        Such are we.\n\nAnd thus he closes lines to the Aurora Borealis:\n\n    But a better type thou art\n    Of the strivings of the heart,\n    Reaching upwards from the earth\n    To the _Soul_ that gave it birth.\n    When the noiseless beck of night\n    Summons out the inner light\n    That hath hid its purer ray\n    Through the lapses of the day,--\n    Then like thee, thou Northern Morn,\n    Instincts which we deemed unborn\n    Gushing from their hidden source\n    Mount upon their heavenward course,\n    And the spirit seeks to be\n    Filled with God's eternity.\n\nThat a philosophy like this will impel to aspiration need not be said;\naspiration is the soul of it. The Transcendentalist was constantly on\nthe wing.\n\n     \"On all hands men's existence is converted into a preparation for\n     existence. We do not properly live, in these days; but everywhere\n     with patent inventions and complex arrangements are getting ready\n     to live. The end is lost in the means, life is smothered in\n     appliances. We cannot get to ourselves, there are so many external\n     comforts to wade through. Consciousness stops half way. Reflection\n     is dissipated in the circumstances of our environment. Goodness is\n     exhausted in aids to goodness, and all the vigor and health of the\n     soul is expended in quack contrivances to build it up.\"... What the\n     age requires is not books, but example, high, heroic example; not\n     words but deeds; not societies but men--men who shall have their\n     root in themselves, and attract and convert the world by the beauty\n     of their fruits. All truth must be living, before it can be\n     adequately known or taught. Men are anterior to systems. Great\n     doctrines are not the origin, but the product of great lives. The\n     Cynic practice must precede the Stoic philosophy, and out of\n     Diogenes's tub came forth in the end the wisdom of Epictetus, the\n     eloquence of Seneca, and the piety of Antonine.\"...\n\n     \"The religious man lives for one great object; to perfect himself,\n     to unite himself by purity with God, to fit himself for heaven by\n     cherishing within him a heavenly disposition. He has discovered\n     that he has a soul; that his soul is himself; that he changes not\n     with the changing things of life, but receives its discipline from\n     them; that man does not live by bread alone, but that the most real\n     of all things, inasmuch as they are the most enduring, are the\n     things which are not seen; that faith and love and virtue are the\n     sources of his life, and that one realises nothing, except he lay\n     fast hold on them. He extracts a moral lesson, a lesson of\n     endurance or of perseverance for himself, or a new evidence of God\n     and of his own immortal destiny, from every day's hard task.\"\n\nThat last strain came from the man who for many years has been known as\nthe foremost musical critic of New England, if not of America, John S.\nDwight. Another writes:\n\n     \"The soul lies buried in a ruined city, struggling to be free and\n     calling for aid. The worldly trafficker in life's caravan hears its\n     cries, and says, it is a prisoned maniac. But one true man stops\n     and with painful toil lifts aside the crumbling fragments; till at\n     last he finds beneath the choking mass a mangled form of exceeding\n     beauty. Dazzling is the light to eyes long blind; weak are the\n     limbs long prisoned; faint is the breath long pent. But oh! that\n     mantling flush, that liquid eye, that elastic spring of renovated\n     strength. The deliverer is folded to the breast of an angel.\"\n\nThe duty of self-culture is made primary and is eloquently preached. The\npiece from which this extract is taken, entitled \"The Art of Life\" is\nanonymous, but supposed to be from Emerson's pen:\n\n     \"The work of life, so far as the individual is concerned, and that\n     to which the scholar is particularly called, is _Self-Culture_,\n     the perfect unfolding of our individual nature. To this end above\n     all others, the art of which I speak directs our attention and\n     points our endeavor. There is no man, it is presumed, to whom this\n     object is wholly indifferent, who would not willingly possess this\n     too, along with other prizes, provided the attainment of it were\n     compatible with personal ease and worldly good. But the business of\n     self-culture admits of no compromise. Either it must be made a\n     distinct aim or wholly abandoned.\"\n\nBut it is time wasted to speak on this point. It has been objected to\nTranscendentalism that it made self-culture too important, carrying it\nto the point of selfishness, sacrificing in its behalf, sympathy,\nbrotherly love, sentiments of patriotism, personal fidelity and honor,\nand rejoicing in the production of a \"mountainous Me\" fed at the expense\nof life's sweetest humanities; and Goethe is straightway cited as the\nTranscendental apostle of the gospel of heartless indifference. But\nallowing the charge against Goethe to rest unrefuted, it must be made\nagainst him as a man, not as a Transcendentalist; and even were it true\nof him as a Transcendentalist, it was not true of Kant or Fichte, of\nSchleiermacher or Herder; of Jean Paul or Novalis; of Coleridge, Carlyle\nor Wordsworth; and who ever intimated that it was true of Emerson, who\nhas been one of the most industrious teachers of his generation, and one\nof the most earnest worshippers of the genius of his native land;--of\nMargaret Fuller, whose life was a quickening flood of intellectual\ninfluence;--of Bronson Alcott, who, every winter for years, has carried\nhis seed corn to the far West, seeking only a receptive furrow for his\ntreasured being;--of Theodore Parker, who sacrificed precious days of\nstudy, his soul's passion for knowledge, his honorable ambition to\nachieve a scholar's fame, in order that his country, in her time of\ntrial, might not want what he was able to give;--of Wm. Henry Channing,\nto whom the thought of humanity is an inspiration, and \"sacrifice an all\nsufficing joy;\"--of George Ripley, who offered himself, all that he had\nand was, that the experiment of an honest friendly society might be\nfairly tried? By \"self-culture\" these and the rest of their brotherhood\nmeant the culture of that nobler self which includes heart, and\nconscience, sympathy and spirituality, not as incidental ingredients,\nbut as essential qualities. Self-hood they never identified with\nselfishness; nor did they ever confound or associate its attainment with\nthe acquisition of place, power, wealth, or eminent repute; the person\nwas more to them than the individual; they sought no reward except for\nservice; and the consciousness of serving faithfully was their best\nreward.\n\nTo Transcendentalism belongs the credit of inaugurating the theory and\npractice of dietetics which is preached so assiduously now by\nenlightened physiologists. The people who regarded man as a soul, first\ntaught the wisdom that is now inculcated by people who regard man as a\nbody. The doctrine that human beings live on air and light; that food\nshould be simple and nutritious; that coarse meats should be discarded\nand fiery liquors abolished; that wines should be substituted for\n\"spirits,\" light wines for heavy, and pure water for wines;--has in all\nages been taught by mystics and idealists. The ancient master of it was\nPythagoras. Their idea was, that as the body was, for the time being,\nthe dwelling-place of the soul, its lodging and home, its prison or its\npalace, its organ, its instrument, its box of tools, the medium of its\nactivity, it must be kept in perfect condition for these high offices.\nThey honored the flesh in the nobility of their care of it. No sour\nascetics they, but generous feeders on essences and elixirs; no\nmortifiers of matter, but purifiers and refiners of it; regarding it as\ntoo exquisitely mingled and tempered a substance to be tortured and\nimbruted. The materialist prescribes temperance, continence, sobriety,\nin order that life may be long, and comfortable, and free from disease.\nThe idealist prescribes them, in order that life may be intellectual,\nserene, pacific, beneficent.\n\nThe chief mystic of the transcendental band has been the chief prophet\nof this innocent word. \"The New Ideas,\" wrote Mr. Alcott, \"bear direct\non all the economies of life. They will revise old methods, and\ninstitute new cultures. I look with special hope to their effect on the\nregimen of the land. Our present modes of agriculture exhaust the soil,\nand must, while life is made thus sensual and secular; the narrow\ncovetousness which prevails in trade, in labor, in exchanges, ends in\ndepraving the land; it breeds disease, decline, in the flesh,--debauches\nand consumes the heart.\" \"The Soul's Banquet is an art divine. To mould\nthis statue of flesh from chaste materials, kneading it into comeliness\nand strength, this is Promethean; and this we practise, well or ill, in\nall our thoughts, acts, desires. I would abstain from the fruits of\noppression and blood, and am seeking means of entire independence. This,\nwere I not holden by penury unjustly, would be possible. One miracle we\nhave wrought nevertheless, and shall soon work all of them;--our wine is\nwater,--flesh, bread;--drugs, fruits;--and we defy, meekly, the satyrs\nall, and Esculapius.\"\n\n\"It was the doctrine of the Samian Sage, that whatsoever food obstructs\ndivination, is prejudicial to purity and chastity of mind and body, to\ntemperance, health, sweetness of disposition, suavity of manners, grace\nof form and dignity of carriage, should be shunned. Especially should\nthose who would apprehend the deepest wisdom, and preserve through life\nthe relish for elegant studies and pursuits, abstain from flesh,\ncherishing the justice which animals claim at men's hands, nor\nslaughtering them for food or profit.\" \"A purer civilization than ours\ncan yet claim to be, is to inspire the genius of mankind with the skill\nto deal dutifully with soils and souls, exalt agriculture and manculture\ninto a religion of art; the freer interchange of commodities which the\ncurrent world-wide intercourse promotes, spreads a more various,\nwholesome, classic table, whereby the race shall be refined of traits\nreminding too plainly of barbarism and the beast.\" Said Timotheus of\nPlato, \"they who dine with the philosopher have nothing to complain of\nthe next morning.\" That the doctrine has its warm, glowing side,\nappears in a characteristic poem in the little volume called \"Tablets.\"\n\nThe anchorite's plea was not always as good as his practice. Arguing the\npoint once with a sagacious man of the world, he urged as a reason for\nabstinence from animal food that one thereby distanced the animal. For\nthe eating of beef encouraged the bovine quality, and the pork diet\nrepeats the trick of Circe, and changes men into swine. But, rejoined\nthe friend, if abstinence from animal food leaves the animal out, does\nnot partaking of vegetable food put the vegetable in? I presume the\npotato diet will change man into a potato. And what if the potatoes be\nsmall! The philosopher's reply is not recorded. But in his case the\nbeast did disappear, and the leek has never become prominent. In his\ncase health, strength, agility, sprightliness, cheerfulness, have been\nwholly compatible with disuse of animal food. Few men have preserved the\nbest uses of body and mind so long unimpaired. Few have lost so few\ndays; have misused so few; are able to give a good account of so many.\nThe vegetarian of seventy-six shames many a cannibal of forty.\n\nThe Transcendentalist was by nature a reformer. He could not be\nsatisfied with men as they were. His doctrine of the capacities of men,\neven in its most moderate statement, kindled to enthusiasm his hope of\nchange. However his disgust may have kept him aloof for a time, his\nsympathy soon brought him back, and his faith sent him to the front of\nthe battle. In beginning his lecture on \"Man The Reformer,\" Mr. Emerson\ndoes not dissemble his hope that each person whom he addresses has\n\"felt his own call to cast aside all evil customs, timidities and\nlimitations, and to be in his place a free and helpful man, a reformer,\na benefactor, not content to slip through the world like a footman or a\nspy, escaping by his nimbleness and apologies as many knocks as he can,\nbut a brave and upright man, who must find or cut a straight path to\neverything excellent in the earth, and not only go honorably himself,\nbut make it easier for all who follow him, to go in honor and with\nbenefit.\" \"The power,\" he declares, \"which is at once spring and\nregulator in all efforts of reform, is the conviction that there is an\ninfinite worthiness in man, which will appear at the call of worth, and\nthat all particular reforms are the removing of some impediment. Is it\nnot the highest duty that man should be honored in us?\" \"In the history\nof the world\" the same great teacher remarks, \"the doctrine of Reform\nhad never such scope as at the present hour. Lutherans, Herrnhuetters,\nJesuits, Monks, Quakers, Knox, Wesley, Swedenborg, Bentham, in their\naccusations of society, all respected something,--church or state,\nliterature or history, domestic usages, the market town, the dinner\ntable, coined money. But now all these and all things else hear the\ntrumpet and must rush to judgment,--Christianity, the laws, commerce,\nschools, the farm, the laboratory: and not a kingdom, town, statute,\nrite, calling, man, or woman but is threatened by the new spirit.\" \"Let\nme feel that I am to be a lover. I am to see to it that the world is the\nbetter for me, and to find my reward in the act. Love would put a new\nface on this weary old world in which we dwell as pagans and enemies too\nlong, and it would warm the heart to see how fast the vain diplomacy of\nstatesmen, the impotence of armies, and navies, and lines of defence,\nwould be superseded by this unarmed child.\"\n\nThe method of reform followed from the principle. It was the method of\nindividual awakening and regeneration, and was to be conducted \"through\nthe simplest ministries of family, neighborhood, fraternity, quite wide\nof associations and institutions.\" \"The true reformer,\" it was\nproclaimed, \"initiates his labor in the precincts of private life, and\nmakes it, not a set of measures, not an utterance, not a pledge merely,\nbut a life; and not an impulse of a day, but commensurate with human\nexistence: a tendency towards perfection of being.\" The\nTranscendentalist might easily become an enthusiast from excess of\nfaith; but a fanatic, with a tinge of melancholy in his disposition, a\ndrop of malignity in his blood, he could not be. He was less a reformer\nof human circumstance than a regenerator of the human spirit, and he was\nnever a destroyer except as destruction accompanied the process of\nregeneration.\n\nThis fine positive purpose appeared in all he undertook. With movements\nthat did not start from this primary assumption of individual dignity,\nand come back to that as their goal, he had nothing to do. Was he an\nanti-slavery man--and he was certain to be one at heart--the\nTranscendentalists were glowing friends of that reform,--he was so\nbecause his philosophy compelled him to see in the slave the same\nhumanity that appeared in the master; in the African the same\npossibilities that were confessed in the Frank, the Anglo-Saxon, and the\nCelt. Did he take up the cause of education, it was as a believer in the\nlatent capacity of every child, boy or girl; as an earnest wisher that\nsuch capacity might be stimulated by the best methods, and directed to\nthe best ends. What he effected, or tried to effect in this way will be\nunderstood by the reader of the record of Mr. Alcott's school; that bold\nand original attempt at educating, leading or drawing out young minds,\nwhich showed such remarkable promise, and would have achieved such\nremarkable results had more faithful trial of its method been possible.\nWas he a reformer of society, it was as a vitalizer, not as a machinist.\n\nIn no respect does the Transcendentalist's idea of social reform stand\nout more conspicuously than in this. With an incessant and passionate\naspiration after a pure social state,--deeply convinced of the mistakes,\nprofoundly sensible of the miseries of the actual condition, he would\nnot be committed to experiments that did not assume his first\nprinciple--the supreme dignity of the individual man. The systems of\nFrench socialism he distrusted from the first; for they proceeded on the\nground that man is not a self determined being, but a creature of\ncircumstance. Mr. Albert Brisbane's attempt to domesticate Fourierism\namong us was cordially considered, but not cordially welcomed. He seemed\nto have no spiritual depth of foundation; his proposition to imprison\nman in a Phalanx, was rejected; his omission of moral freedom in the\nscheme was resented; no sincerity, no keenness of criticism, no exposure\nof existing evils or indignation of protest against them, disarmed the\njealousy of endeavors to reconstruct society, as if human beings were\npiles of brick or lumps of mortar.\n\nIn 1841 a community was planned in Massachusetts, by Liberal Christians\nof the Universalist sect. Though never put in operation it did not\nescape the criticism of the \"Dial.\" The good points were recognized and\ncommended; the moral features were praised as showing a deep insight\ninto the Christian idea, and the articles of confederation were\npronounced admirable in judgment and form, with a single exception,\nwhich however was fatal. Admittance of members was conditioned on\npledges of non-resistance, abolition, temperance, abstinence from\nvoting, and such like. Though these conditions were easy enough in\nthemselves, and were expressed in the most conciliatory spirit, they\nwere justly regarded as giving to the community the character of a\nchurch or party, much less than world embracing. \"A true community,\" it\nwas declared, \"can be founded on nothing short of faith in the universal\nman, as he comes out of the hands of the Creator, with no law over his\nliberty but the eternal ideas that lie at the foundation of his being.\"\n\"The final cause of human society is the unfolding of the individual\nman, into every form of perfection, without let or hindrance, according\nto the inward nature of each.\"\n\nWhen the Brook Farm experiment was under way at West Roxbury, its\ninitiators were warned against three dangers: the first, _Organization_,\nwhich begins by being an instrument and ends by being a master; the\nsecond, _Endowment_, which promises to be a swift helper, and is, ere\nlong, a stifling encumbrance; the third, the spirit of _Coterie_, which\nwould in no long time, shrink their rock of ages to a platform, diminish\ntheir brotherhood to a clique, and reduce their aims to experiences.\n\nBrook Farm, whereof it is not probable that a history will ever be\nwritten, for the reason that there were in it slender materials for\nhistory,--though there were abundant materials for thought,--was\nprojected on the purest transcendental basis. It was neither European\nnor English, neither French nor German in its origin. No doubt, among\nthe supporters and friends of it were some who had made themselves\nacquainted with the writings of St. Simon and Chevalier, of Proudhon and\nFourier; but it does not appear that any of these authors shaped or\nprescribed the plan, or influenced the spirit of the enterprise. The\nConstitution which is printed herewith explains sufficiently the\nproject, and expresses the spirit in which it was undertaken. The\njealous regard for the rights of the individual is not the least\ncharacteristic feature of this remarkable document. The By-Laws, which\nwant of space excludes from these pages, simply confirm the provisions\nthat were made to guard the person against unnecessary infringement of\nindependence.\n\n\n     CONSTITUTION.\n\n     In order more effectually to promote the great purposes of human\n     culture; to establish the external relations of life on a basis of\n     wisdom and purity; to apply the principles of justice and love to\n     our social organization in accordance with the laws of Divine\n     Providence; to substitute a system of brotherly cooperation for one\n     of selfish competition; to secure to our children and those who may\n     be entrusted to our care, the benefits of the highest physical,\n     intellectual and moral education, which in the progress of\n     knowledge the resources at our command will permit; to institute an\n     attractive, efficient, and productive system of industry; to\n     prevent the exercise of worldly anxiety, by the competent supply of\n     our necessary wants; to diminish the desire of excessive\n     accumulation, by making the acquisition of individual property\n     subservient to upright and disinterested uses; to guarantee to each\n     other forever the means of physical support, and of spiritual\n     progress; and thus to impart a greater freedom, simplicity,\n     truthfulness, refinement, and moral dignity, to our mode of\n     life;--we the undersigned do unite in a voluntary Association, and\n     adopt and ordain the following articles of agreement, to wit:\n\n\n     ARTICLE I.\n\n     NAME AND MEMBERSHIP.\n\n     SEC. 1. The name of this Association shall be \"THE BROOK-FARM\n     ASSOCIATION FOR INDUSTRY AND EDUCATION.\" All persons who shall hold\n     one or more shares in its stock, or whose labor and skill shall be\n     considered an equivalent for capital, may be admitted by the vote\n     of two-thirds of the Association, as members thereof.\n\n     SEC. 2. No member of the Association shall ever be subjected to any\n     religious test; nor shall any authority be assumed over individual\n     freedom of opinion by the Association, nor by one member over\n     another; nor shall any one be held accountable to the Association,\n     except for such overt acts, or omissions of duty, as violate the\n     principles of justice, purity, and love, on which it is founded;\n     and in such cases the relation of any member may be suspended or\n     discontinued, at the pleasure of the Association.\n\n\n     ARTICLE II.\n\n     CAPITAL STOCK.\n\n     SEC. 1. The members of this Association shall own and manage such\n     real and personal estate in joint stock proprietorship, divided\n     into shares of one hundred dollars each, as may from time to time\n     be agreed on.\n\n     SEC. 2. No shareholder shall be liable to any assessment whatever\n     on the shares held by him; nor shall he be held responsible\n     individually in his private property on account of the Association;\n     nor shall the Trustees, or any officer or agent of the Association,\n     have any authority to do any thing which shall impose personal\n     responsibility on any shareholder, by making any contracts or\n     incurring any debts for which the shareholders shall be\n     individually or personally responsible.\n\n     SEC. 3. The Association guarantees to each shareholder the interest\n     of five per cent. annually on the amount of stock held by him in\n     the Association, and this interest may be paid in certificates of\n     stock and credited on the books of the Association; provided that\n     each shareholder may draw on the funds of the Association for the\n     amount of interest due at the third annual settlement from the time\n     of investment.\n\n     SEC. 4. The shareholders on their part, for themselves, their heirs\n     and assigns, do renounce all claim on any profits accruing to the\n     Association for the use of their capital invested in the stock of\n     the Association, except five per cent. interest on the amount of\n     stock held by them, payable in the manner described in the\n     preceding section.\n\n\n     ARTICLE III.\n\n     GUARANTIES.\n\n     SEC. 1. The Association shall provide such employment for all its\n     members as shall be adapted to their capacities, habits, and\n     tastes; and each member shall select and perform such operations of\n     labor, whether corporal or mental, as shall be deemed best suited\n     to his own endowments and the benefit of the Association.\n\n     SEC. 2. The Association guarantees to all its members, their\n     children and family dependents, house-rent, fuel, food, and\n     clothing, and the other necessaries of life, without charge, not\n     exceeding a certain fixed amount to be decided annually by the\n     Association; no charge shall ever be made for support during\n     inability to labor from sickness or old age, or for medical or\n     nursing attendance, except in case of shareholders, who shall be\n     charged therefor, and also for the food and clothing of children,\n     to an amount not exceeding the interest due to them on settlement;\n     but no charge shall be made to any members for education or the use\n     of library and public rooms.\n\n     SEC. 3. Members may withdraw from labor, under the direction of the\n     Association, and in that case, they shall not be entitled to the\n     benefit of the above guaranties.\n\n     SEC. 4. Children over ten years of age shall be provided with\n     employment in suitable branches of industry; they shall be credited\n     for such portions of each annual dividend, as shall be decided by\n     the Association, and on the completion of their education in the\n     Association at the age of twenty, shall be entitled to a\n     certificate of stock to the amount of credits in their favor, and\n     may be admitted as members of the Association.\n\n\n     ARTICLE IV.\n\n     DISTRIBUTION OF PROFITS.\n\n     SEC. 1. The net profits of the Association, after the payment of\n     all expenses, shall be divided into a number of shares\n     corresponding to the number of days' labor; and every member shall\n     be entitled to one share of every day's labor performed by him.\n\n     SEC. 2. A full settlement shall be made with every member once a\n     year, and certificates of stock given for all balances due; but in\n     case of need, to be decided by himself, every member may be\n     permitted to draw on the funds in the Treasury to an amount not\n     exceeding the credits in his favor for labor performed.\n\n\n     ARTICLE V.\n\n     GOVERNMENT.\n\n     SEC. 1. The government of the Association shall be vested in a\n     board of Directors, divided into four departments, as follows; 1st,\n     General Direction; 2d, Direction of Education; 3d, Direction of\n     Industry; 4th, Direction of Finance; consisting of three persons\n     each, provided that the same person may be elected member of each\n     Direction.\n\n     SEC. 2. The General Direction and Direction of Education shall be\n     chosen annually, by the vote of a majority of the members of the\n     Association. The Direction of Finance shall be chosen annually, by\n     the vote of a majority of the share-holders and members of the\n     Association. The direction of Industry shall consist of the chiefs\n     of the three primary series.\n\n     SEC. 3. The chairman of the General Direction shall be the\n     President of the Association, and together with the Direction of\n     Finance, shall constitute a board of Trustees, by whom the property\n     of the Association shall be held and managed.\n\n     SEC. 4. The General Direction shall oversee and manage the affairs\n     of the Association, so that every department shall be carried on in\n     an orderly and efficient manner.\n\n     SEC. 5. The departments of Education and Finance shall be under the\n     control each of its own Direction, which shall select, and in\n     concurrence with the General Direction, shall appoint such\n     teachers, officers, and agents, as shall be necessary to the\n     complete and systematic organization of the department. No\n     Directors or other officers shall be deemed to possess any rank\n     superior to the other members of the Association, nor shall they\n     receive any extra remuneration for their official services.\n\n     SEC. 6. The department of industry shall be arranged in groups and\n     series, as far as practicable, and shall consist of three primary\n     series; to wit, Agricultural, Mechanical, and Domestic Industry.\n     The chief of each series shall be elected every two months by the\n     members thereof, subject to the approval of the general Direction.\n     The chief of each group shall be chosen weekly by its members.\n\n\n     ARTICLE VI.\n\n     MISCELLANEOUS.\n\n     SEC. 1. The Association may from time to time adopt such by-laws,\n     not inconsistent with the spirit and purpose of these articles, as\n     shall be found expedient or necessary.\n\n     SEC. 2. In order to secure to the Association the benefits of the\n     highest discoveries in social science, and to preserve its fidelity\n     to the principles of progress and reform, on which it is founded,\n     any amendment may be proposed to this Constitution at a meeting\n     called for the purpose; and if approved by two-thirds of the\n     members at a subsequent meeting, at least one month after the date\n     of the first, shall be adopted.\n\nFrom this it appears that the association was simply an attempt to\nreturn to first principles, to plant the seeds of a new social order,\nfounded on respect for the dignity, and sympathy with the aspirations of\nman. It was open to all sects; it admitted, welcomed, nay, demanded all\nkinds and degrees of intellectual culture. The most profound regard for\nindividual opinion, feeling and inclination, was professed and\nexhibited. Confidence that surrender to the spontaneous principle, with\nno more restriction than might be necessary to secure its development,\nwas wisest, lay at the bottom of the scheme.\n\nIt was felt at this time, 1842, that, in order to live a religious and\nmoral life in sincerity, it was necessary to leave the world of\ninstitutions, and to reconstruct the social order from new beginnings. A\nfarm was bought in close vicinity to Boston; agriculture was made the\nbasis of the life, as bringing man into direct and simple relations with\nnature, and restoring labor to honest conditions. To a certain extent,\nit will be seen, the principle of community in property was recognized,\ncommunity of interest and cooperation requiring it; but to satisfy the\nclaims and insure the rights of the individual, members were not\nrequired to impoverish themselves, or to resign the fruit of their\nearnings.\n\nProvisions were either raised on the farm or purchased at wholesale.\nMeals were eaten in \"commons.\" It was the rule that all should\nlabor--choosing their occupations, and the number of hours, and\nreceiving wages according to the hours. No labor was hired that could be\nsupplied within the community; and all labor was rewarded alike, on the\nprinciple that physical labor is more irksome than mental, more\nabsorbing and exacting, less improving and delightful. Moreover, to\nrecognize practically the nobility of labor in and of itself, none were\nappointed to special kinds of work. All took their turn at the several\nbranches of employment. None were drudges or menials. The intellectual\ngave a portion of their time to tasks such as servants and handmaidens\nusually discharge. The unintellectual were allowed a portion of their\ntime for mental cultivation. The benefits of social intercourse were\nthrown open to all. The aim was to secure as many hours as practicable\nfrom the necessary toil of providing for the wants of the body, that\nthere might be more leisure to provide for the deeper wants of the soul.\nThe acquisition of wealth was no object. No more thought was given to\nthis than the exigencies of existence demanded. To live, expand, enjoy\nas rational beings, was the never-forgotten aim.\n\nThe community trafficked by way of exchange and barter with the outside\nworld; sold its surplus produce; sold its culture to as many as came or\nsent children to be taught. It was hoped that from the accumulated\nresults of all this labor, the appliances for intellectual and spiritual\nhealth might be obtained; that books might be bought, works of art,\nscientific collections and apparatus, means of decoration and\nrefinement, all of which should be open on the same terms to every\nmember of the association. The principle of cooperation was substituted\nfor the principle of competition; self development for selfishness. The\nfaith was avowed in every arrangement that the soul of humanity was in\neach man and woman.\n\nThe reputation for genius, accomplishment and wit, which the founders of\nthe Brook Farm enterprise enjoyed in society, attracted towards it the\nattention of the public, and awakened expectation of something much more\nthan ordinary in the way of literary advantages. The settlement became a\nresort for cultivated men and women who had experience as teachers and\nwished to employ their talent to the best effect; and for others who\nwere tired of the conventionalities, and sighed for honest relations\nwith their fellow-beings. Some took advantage of the easy hospitality of\nthe association, and came there to live mainly at its expense--their\nunskilled and incidental labor being no compensation for their\nentertainment. The most successful department was the school. Pupils\ncame thither in considerable numbers and from considerable distances.\nDistinguished visitors gave charm and reputation to the place.\n\nThe members were never numerous; the number varied considerably from\nyear to year. Seventy was a fair average; of these, fewer than half were\nyoung persons sent thither to be educated. Several adults came for\nintellectual assistance. Of married people there were, in 1844, but four\npairs. A great deal was taught and learned at Brook Farm. Classics,\nmathematics, general literature, aesthetics, occupied the busy hours. The\nmost productive work was done in these ideal fields, and the best\nresult of it was a harvest in the ideal world, a new sense of life's\nelasticity and joy, the delight of freedom, the innocent satisfaction of\nspontaneous relations.\n\nThe details above given convey no adequate idea of the Brook Farm\nfraternity. In one sense it was much less than they imply; in another\nsense it was much more. It was less, because its plan was not materially\nsuccessful; the intention was defeated by circumstances; the hope turned\nout to be a dream. Yet, from another aspect, the experiment fully\njustified itself. Its moral tone was high; its moral influence sweet and\nsunny. Had Brook Farm been a community in the accepted sense, had it\ninsisted on absolute community of goods, the resignation of opinions, of\npersonal aims interests or sympathies; had the principle of\nrenunciation, sacrifice of the individual to the common weal, been\naccepted and maintained, its existence might have been continued and its\npecuniary basis made sure. But asceticism was no feature of the original\nscheme. On the contrary, the projectors of it were believers in the\ncapacities of the soul, in the safety, wisdom and imperative necessity\nof developing those capacities, and in the benign effect of liberty. Had\nthe spirit of rivalry and antagonism been called in, the sectarian or\nparty spirit, however generously interpreted, the result would probably\nhave been different. But the law of sympathy being accepted as the law\nof life, exclusion was out of the question; inquisition into beliefs was\ninadmissible; motives even could not be closely scanned; so while some\nwere enthusiastic friends of the principle of association, and some\nwere ardent devotees to liberty, others thought chiefly of their private\neducation and development; and others still were attracted by a desire\nof improving their social condition, or attaining comfort on easy terms.\nThe idea, however noble, true, and lovely, was unable to grapple with\nelements so discordant. Yet the fact that these discordant elements did\nnot, even in the brief period of the fraternity's existence, utterly\nrend and abolish the idea; that to the last, no principle was\ncompromised, no rule broken, no aspiration bedraggled, is a confession\nof the purity and vitality of the creative thought. That a mere\naggregation of persons, without written compact, formal understanding,\nor unity of purpose, men, women and children, should have lived\ntogether, four or five years, without scandal or reproach from\ndissension or evil whisper, should have separated without rancor or\nbitterness, and should have left none but the pleasantest savor behind\nthem--is a tribute to the Transcendental Faith.\n\nIn 1844, the Directors of the Association, George Ripley, Minot Pratt,\nand Charles Anderson Dana, published a statement, declaring: that every\nstep had strengthened the faith with which they set out; that their\nbelief in a divine order of human society had in their minds become an\nabsolute certainty; that, in their judgment, considering the state of\nhumanity and of social science, the world was much nearer the attainment\nof such a condition than was generally supposed. They here said\nemphatically that Fourier's doctrine of universal unity commanded their\nunqualified assent, and that their whole observation had satisfied them\nof the practical arrangements which he deduced therefrom, of the\ncorrespondence of the law of groups and series with the law of human\nnature. At this time the farm contained two hundred and eight acres, and\ncould be enlarged to any extent necessary. The Association held property\nworth nearly or quite thirty thousand dollars, of which about twenty-two\nthousand was invested, either in the stock of the company or in\npermanent loans to it at six per cent., which could remain as long as the\nAssociation might wish. The organization was pronounced to be in a\nsatisfactory working condition; the Department of Education, on which\nmuch thought had been bestowed, was flourishing. With a view to an\nultimate expansion into a perfect Phalanx, it was proposed to organize\nthe three primary departments of labor, namely, Agriculture, Domestic\nIndustry, and the Mechanical Arts. Public meetings had awakened an\ninterest in the community. Appeals for money had been generously\nanswered. The numbers had been increased by the accession of many\nskilful and enthusiastic laborers in various departments. About ten\nthousand dollars had been added by subscription to the capital. A\nwork-shop sixty feet by twenty-eight had been erected; a Phalanstery, or\nunitary dwelling on a large scale, was in process of erection, to meet\nthe early needs of the preparatory period, until success should\nauthorize the building of a Phalanstery \"with the magnificence and\npermanence proper to such a structure.\" The prospect was, or looked,\nencouraging. The experiment had been tested by the hard discipline of\nmore than two years; the severest difficulties had apparently been\nconquered; the arrangements had attained systematic form, as far as the\nlimited numbers permitted; the idea was respectfully entertained;\nsocialism was spreading; it embraced persons of every station in life;\nand in its extent, and influence on questions of importance, it seemed,\nto enthusiastic believers, to be fast assuming in the United States a\nnational character. This was in October 1844. At this time the Brook\nFarm Associationists connected themselves with the New York Socialists\nwho accepted the teachings of Fourier; and the efforts described were\nput forth in aid of the new and more systematic plans that had been\nadopted. But this coalition, which promised so much, proved disastrous\nin its result. The Association was unable to sustain industrial\ncompetition with established trades. The expenses were more than the\nreceipts. In the spring of 1847 the Phalanstery was burned down; the\nsummer was occupied in closing up the affairs; and in the autumn the\nAssociation was broken up. The members betook themselves to the world\nagain, and engaged in the ordinary pursuits of life. The farm was bought\nby the town of West Roxbury, and afterwards passed into private hands.\nDuring the civil war the government used it for military purposes. The\nmain building has since been occupied as a hospital. The leaders of the\nAssociation removed to New York, and for about a year, till February\n1849, continued their labors of propagandism by means of the\n\"Harbinger,\" till that expired: then their dream faded away.\n\nThe full history of that movement can be written only by one who\nbelonged to it, and shared its secret: and it would doubtless have been\nwritten before this, had the materials for a history been more solid.\nAspirations have no history. It is pleasant to hear the survivors of the\npastoral experiment talk over their experiences, merrily recall the\npassages in work or play, revive the impressions of country rambles,\nconversations, discussions, social festivities, recount the comical\nmishaps, summon the shadows of friends dead, but unforgotten, and\ndescribe the hours spent in study or recreation, unspoiled by\ncarefulness. But it is in private alone that these confidences are\nimparted. To the public very little has been, or will be, or can be\ntold.\n\nMr. Hawthorne was one of the first to take up the scheme. He was there a\nlittle while at the beginning in 1841, and his note-books contain\npassages that are of interest. But Hawthorne's temperament was not\ncongenial with such an atmosphere, nor was his faith clear or steadfast\nenough to rest contented on its idea. His, however, were observing eyes;\nand his notes, being soliloquies, confessions made to himself, convey\nhis honest impressions:\n\n     BROOK FARM, April 13th, 1841. \"I have not taken yet my first lesson\n     in agriculture, except that I went to see our cows foddered,\n     yesterday afternoon. We have eight of our own; and the number is\n     now increased by a Transcendental heifer belonging to Miss Margaret\n     Fuller. She is very fractious, I believe, and apt to kick over the\n     milk pail.... I intend to convert myself into a milk-maid this\n     evening, but I pray Heaven that Mr. Ripley may be moved to assign\n     me the kindliest cow in the herd, otherwise I shall perform my\n     duties with fear and trembling. I like my brethren in affliction\n     very well, and could you see us sitting round our table at meal\n     times, before the great kitchen fire, you would call it a cheerful\n     sight.\"\n\n     \"April 14. I did not milk the cows last night, because Mr. R. was\n     afraid to trust them to my hands, or me to their horns, I know not\n     which. But this morning I have done wonders. Before breakfast I\n     went out to the barn and began to chop hay for the cattle, and with\n     such \"righteous vehemence,\" as Mr. R. says, did I labor, that in\n     the space of ten minutes I broke the machine. Then I brought wood\n     and replenished the fires; and finally went down to breakfast, and\n     ate up a huge mound of buckwheat cakes. After breakfast Mr. R. put\n     a four-pronged instrument into my hands, which he gave me to\n     understand was called a pitchfork; and he and Mr. Farley being\n     armed with similar weapons, we all three commenced a gallant attack\n     on a heap of manure. This office being concluded, and I having\n     purified myself, I sit down to finish this letter. Miss Fuller's\n     cow hooks other cows, and has made herself ruler of the herd, and\n     behaves in a very tyrannical manner.\"\n\n     \"April 16th. I have milked a cow!!! The herd has rebelled against\n     the usurpation of Miss Fuller's heifer; and whenever they are\n     turned out of the barn, she is compelled to take refuge under our\n     protection. So much did she impede my labors by keeping close to\n     me, that I found it necessary to give her two or three gentle pats\n     with a shovel. She is not an amiable cow; but she has a very\n     intelligent face, and seems to be of a reflective cast of\n     character.\n\n     I have not yet been twenty yards from our house and barn; but I\n     begin to perceive that this is a beautiful place. The scenery is of\n     a mild and placid character, with nothing bold in its aspect; but I\n     think its beauties will grow upon us, and make us love it the more\n     the longer we live here. There is a brook so near the house that we\n     shall be able to hear its ripple in the summer evenings,--but for\n     agricultural purposes it has been made to flow in a straight and\n     rectangular fashion which does it infinite damage as a picturesque\n     object. Mr. R. has bought four black pigs.\"\n\n     \"April 22nd. What an abominable hand do I scribble; but I have been\n     chopping wood and turning a grind-stone all the forenoon; and such\n     occupations are apt to disturb the equilibrium of the muscles and\n     sinews. It is an endless surprise to me how much work there is to\n     be done in the world; but thank God I am able to do my share of it,\n     and my ability increases daily. What a great, broad-shouldered,\n     elephantine personage I shall become by and by!\n\n     I read no newspapers, and hardly remember who is President, and\n     feel as if I had no more concern with what other people trouble\n     themselves about, than if I dwelt in another planet.\"\n\n     \"May 1st. All the morning I have been at work, under the clear blue\n     sky, on a hill side. Sometimes it almost seemed as if I were at\n     work in the sky itself, though the material in which I wrought was\n     the ore from our gold-mine. There is nothing so disagreeable or\n     unseemly in this sort of toil as you could think. It defiles the\n     hands indeed, but not the soul.\n\n     The farm is growing very beautiful now,--not that we yet see\n     anything of the peas and potatoes which we have planted, but the\n     grass blushes green on the slopes and hollows.\n\n     I do not believe that I should be so patient here if I were not\n     engaged in a righteous and heaven-blessed way of life. We had some\n     tableaux last evening. They went off very well.\"\n\n     \"May 11th. This morning I arose at milking time, in good trim for\n     work; and we have been employed partly in an Augean labor of\n     clearing out a wood-shed, and partly in carting loads of oak. This\n     afternoon I hope to have something to do in the field, for these\n     jobs about the house are not at all suited to my taste.\"\n\n     \"June 1st. I think this present life of mine gives me an antipathy\n     to pen and ink, even more than my Custom-house experience did. In\n     the midst of toil, or after a hard day's work, my soul obstinately\n     refuses to be poured out on paper. It is my opinion that a man's\n     soul may be buried and perish under a dung heap, just as well as\n     under a pile of money.\"\n\n     \"August 15th. Even my Custom-house experience was not such a\n     thraldom and weariness as this. O, labor is the curse of the world,\n     and nobody can meddle with it, without becoming proportionably\n     brutified! Is it a praiseworthy matter that I have spent five\n     golden months in providing food for cows and horses? It is not so.\"\n\n     \"Salem, Sept. 3d. Really I should judge it to be twenty years since\n     I left Brook Farm; and I take this to be one proof that my life\n     there was an unnatural and unsuitable, and therefore an unreal one.\n     It already looks like a dream behind me. The real Me was never an\n     associate of the community; there had been a spectral Appearance\n     there, sounding the horn at daybreak, and milking the cows, and\n     hoeing the potatoes, and raking hay, toiling in the sun, and doing\n     me the honor to assume my name. But this spectre was not myself.\"\n\nMr. Hawthorne was elected to high offices, to those of Trustee of the\nBrook Farm estate, and Chairman of the Committee of Finance; but he told\nMr. Ripley that he could not spend another winter there. If we could\ninspect all the note-books of the community, supposing all to be as\nfrank as Hawthorne, our picture of Brook Farm life would be fascinating.\nBut his was, perhaps, the only note-book kept in the busy brotherhood,\nand his rather sombre view must be accepted as the impression of one\npeculiar mind. In the \"Blithedale Romance,\" Hawthorne disclaimed any\npurpose to describe persons or events at Brook Farm, and expressed a\nhope that some one might yet do justice to a movement so full of earnest\naspiration. But he, himself, declined the task. \"The old and\naffectionately remembered home at Brook Farm--certainly the most\nromantic episode of his own life--essentially a day dream, and yet a\nfact--thus offering an available foothold between fiction and reality,\"\nmerely supplied the scenery for the romance. More than twenty years have\npassed since Hawthorne's appeal to his associates, but it has not been\nanswered.\n\nThe characteristic nature of transcendental reform was exhibited in the\ntemper of its agitation for the enfranchisement of women, and the\nenlargement of her sphere of duty and privilege. More definitely than\nany other, this reform can trace its beginnings and the source of its\ninspiration to the disciples of the transcendental philosophy. The\ntranscendentalists gave it their countenance to some extent, to a man\nand a woman, conceding the truth of its idea even when criticising the\ndetails of its application. With almost if not quite equal unanimity,\nthe other school regarded it with disfavor. The cause of woman, as\nentertained by the reformers, was not likely to commend itself to people\nwho consulted custom, law, or institution; who accepted the authority of\ntradition, took history to be revelation, deferred to the decree of\ncircumstance, or, under any other open or disguised form, bowed to the\ndoctrine that might makes right. The philosophical conservatives and the\nsocial conservatives struck hands on this; for both, the one party in\ndeference to established usage, the other party in deference to the\nopinion that mind followed organization, defended things as they were,\nand hoped for a better state of things, if they hoped for it at all, as\na result of changes in the social environment. The disciples of the same\nphilosophy now hold the same view of this particular reform. From them\ncomes the charge of unsexing women and demoralizing the sex. In the\nbelief of the transcendentalist, souls were of no sex. Men and women\nwere alike human beings, with human capacities, longings, and destinies;\nand the condition of society that doomed them to hopelessness in regard\nto the complete and perfect justification of their being, was,\nin his judgment--not in his feeling, or sentiment, but in his\njudgment--unsound.\n\nThe ablest and most judicial statement on the question was made by\nMargaret Fuller in the \"Dial\" of July 1843. The paper entitled the\n\"Great Law Suit\" was afterwards expanded into the little volume called\n\"Woman in the XIXth Century,\" which contains all that is best worth\nsaying on the subject, has been the storehouse of argument and\nillustration from that time to this, and should be read by all who would\nunderstand the cardinal points in the case. The careful student of that\nbook will be amazed at the misapprehensions in respect to its doctrine\nthat are current even in intelligent circles. Certainly Miss Fuller does\nclaim everything that may fairly be comprehended under woman's\neducation; everything that follows, or may be honestly and rationally\nheld as following in the course of her intellectual development. But\nshe claims it by rigorous fidelity to a philosophical idea; not\npassionately or hastily. Not as a demand of sentiment, not as a right\nunder liberty, not as a conclusion from American institutions, but as\nthe spiritual prerogative of the spiritual being. Her argument moves on\nthis high table-land of thought; and moves with a steadiness, a\nserenity, an ease that little resemble the heated debates on later\nplatforms. Miss Fuller was thoroughly feminine in her intuitions. It was\nimpossible for her to treat any subject, to say nothing of a subject so\ncomplex and delicate as this, with any but the finest tempered tools.\nHer sympathies were with women; she attracted women by the power of her\nintelligence and fellow feeling. Women of feeling and aspiration--pure\nfeeling and beautiful aspiration,--came to her. The secrets of the best\nhearts were revealed to her, as they could not have been, had she failed\nto reach or attract them on their own level. Her idea of womanly\ncharacter as displayed in sentiment and action was as gracious as it was\nlofty.\n\n     \"We would have every arbitrary barrier thrown down. We would have\n     every path laid open to women as freely as to man. Were this done,\n     and a slight temporary fermentation allowed to subside, we believe\n     that the Divine would ascend into nature to a height unknown in the\n     history of past ages; and nature, thus instructed, would regulate\n     the spheres, not only so as to avoid collision, but to bring forth\n     ravishing harmony.\"\n\nYet then, and only then, will human beings, in her judgment, be ripe for\nthis, when inward and outward freedom for woman as much as for man,\nshall be acknowledged as a right, not yielded as a concession.\n\n     \"What woman needs is not as a woman to act or rule, but as a nature\n     to grow, as an intellect to discern, as a soul to live freely, and\n     unimpeded to unfold such powers as were given her when we left our\n     common home. If fewer talents were given her, yet, if allowed the\n     full and free employment of these, so that she may render back to\n     the giver his own with usury, she will not complain, nay, I dare to\n     say, she will bless and rejoice in her earthly birth-place her\n     earthly lot.\"\n\n     \"Man is not willingly ungenerous. He wants faith and love because\n     he is not yet himself an elevated being. He cries with sneering\n     skepticism: Give us a sign! But if the sign appears, his eyes\n     glisten, and he offers not merely approval but homage.\"\n\nThe Transcendental idea makes her just to all, to the Hebrews who\n\"greeted with solemn rapture all great and holy women as heroines,\nprophetesses, nay judges in Israel, and if they made Eve listen to the\nserpent, gave Mary to the Holy Ghost;\" to the Greeks whose feminine\ndeities were types of dignity and loveliness; to the Romans, whose\nglorious women are \"of threadbare celebrity;\" to Asiatics, Russians,\nEnglish. It gave her generous interpretations for laws, institutions,\ncustoms, bidding her look on the bright side of history.\n\n     \"Whatever may have been the domestic manners of the ancient\n     nations, the idea of woman was nobly manifested in their\n     mythologies and poems, where she appeared as Sita in the Ramayana,\n     a form of tender purity; in the Egyptian Isis, of divine wisdom\n     never yet surpassed. In Egypt too, the sphinx, walking the earth\n     with lion tread, looked out upon its marvels in the calm,\n     inscrutable beauty of a virgin face, and the Greek could only add\n     wings to the great emblem.\" \"In Sparta the women were as much\n     Spartans as the men. Was not the calm equality they enjoyed well\n     worth the honors of chivalry? They intelligently shared the ideal\n     life of their nation.\" \"Is it in vain that the truth has been\n     recognized that woman is not only a part of man, bone of his bone,\n     and flesh of his flesh, born that man might not be lonely, but in\n     themselves possessors of and possessed by immortal souls? This\n     truth undoubtedly received a greater outward stability from the\n     belief of the church that the earthly parent of the Saviour of\n     souls was a woman.\"\n\n     \"Woman cannot complain that she has not had her share of power.\n     This in all ranks of society, except the lowest, has been hers to\n     the extent that vanity could crave, far beyond what wisdom would\n     accept. It is not the transient breath of poetic incense that women\n     want; each can receive that from a lover. It is not life-long sway;\n     it needs to become a coquette, a shrew, or a good cook, to be sure\n     of that. It is not money, nor notoriety, nor the badges of\n     authority that men have appropriated to themselves. It is for that\n     which includes all these and precludes them; which would not be\n     forbidden power, lest there be temptation to steal and misuse it;\n     which would not have the mind perverted by flattery from a\n     worthiness of esteem. It is for that which is the birthright of\n     every being capable to receive it,--the freedom, the religious, the\n     intelligent freedom of the universe, to use its means, to learn its\n     secret as far as nature has enabled them, with God alone for their\n     guide and their judge.\"\n\n     \"The only reason why women ever assume what is more appropriate to\n     men, is because men prevent them from finding out what is fit for\n     themselves. Were they free, were they wise fully to develop the\n     strength and beauty of woman, they would never wish to be men or\n     manlike. The well instructed moon flies not from her orbit to seize\n     on the glories of her partner.\"\n\n     \"Give the soul free course, let the organization be freely\n     developed, and the being will be fit for any and every relation to\n     which it may be called.\"\n\n     \"Civilized Europe is still in a transition state about marriage,\n     not only in practice but in thought. A great majority of societies\n     and individuals are still doubtful whether earthly marriage is to\n     be a union of souls, or merely a contract of convenience and\n     utility. Were woman established in the rights of an immortal being,\n     this could not be.\" But \"those who would reform the world, must\n     show that they do not speak in the heat of wild impulse; their\n     lives must be unstained by passionate error; they must be severe\n     lawgivers to themselves. As to their transgressions of opinions, it\n     may be observed, that the resolve of Eloise to be only the mistress\n     of Abelard, was that of one who saw the contract of marriage a seal\n     of degradation. Wherever abuses of this sort are seen, the timid\n     will suffer, the bold will protest; but society has the right to\n     outlaw them, till she has revised her law, and she must be taught\n     to do so, by one who speaks with authority, not in anger or haste.\"\n\n     \"Whether much or little has been or will be done; whether women\n     will add to the talent of narration, the power of systematizing;\n     whether they will carve marble as well as iron, is not important.\n     But that it should be acknowledged that they have intellect which\n     needs developing, that they should not be considered complete, if\n     beings of affection and habit alone, is important. Earth knows no\n     fairer, holier relation than that of mother. But a being of\n     infinite scope must not be treated with an exclusive view to any\n     one relation.\"\n\n     \"In America women are much better situated than men. Good books are\n     allowed, with more time to read them. They have time to think, and\n     no traditions chain them. Their employments are more favorable to\n     the inward life than those of men. Men are courteous to them;\n     praise them often; check them seldom. In this country, is\n     venerated, wherever seen, the character which Goethe spoke of as an\n     Ideal: 'The excellent woman is she, who, if her husband dies, can\n     be a father to the children.'\"\n\nNothing can be more reasonable than this; and this is the tone of\ntranscendental feeling and thought on the subject. The only criticism\nthat can fairly be made on the Transcendentalist's idea of woman, is\nthat it has more regard for essential capacities and possibilities, than\nfor incidental circumstances, more respect for the ideal than for the\nactual woman. However grave a sin this may be against common sense, it\nis none against purity, nobleness, or the laws of private or public\nvirtue. The dream, if it be no more than a dream, is beautiful and\ninspiring.\n\nThe Transcendentalist believed in man's ability to apprehend absolute\nideas of Truth, Justice, Rectitude, Goodness; he spoke of The Right, The\nTrue, The Beautiful, as eternal realities which he perceived. The\n\"Sensational\" philosophy was shut up in the relative and conditioned;\nknew nothing higher than expediency; held prudence, caution, practical\nwisdom in highest rank among the virtues; consulted the revelations of\nhistory; recognized no law above established usage; went for guidance to\nthe book, the record, the statute; it could not speak therefore with\npower, but could only consider, surmise, cast probabilities, devise\nplans and work carefully towards their execution. The Sensationalist\ndistrusted the seer, rejected the prophet, and disliked the reformer.\nHis aim was law; his work within easy distance; his object, some\nplainly visible and appreciable satisfaction. His faith in men and women\nwas small; his trust in circumstances and conditions was unbounded; but\nas this faith had no wings, it could neither raise its possessor from\nthe ground, nor speed him faster than a walking pace. He was easily\nsatisfied with the world as it was; or if dissatisfied, had little hope\nof its being made better by anything he could do. His helplessness and\nhopelessness will make him in opinion an optimist, who finds it easier\nto assume that the order of the world is perfect and will so appear by\nand by, than that it is made imperfect for him to mend. Optimism is\nperhaps oftener the creed of the indolent than of the earnest.\n\nThe Transcendentalist was satisfied with nothing so long as it did not\ncorrespond to the ideal in the enlightened soul; and in the soul\nrecognized the power to make all things new. Nothing will content him\nshort of the absolute right, the eternally true, the unconditioned\nexcellence. He prays for the kingdom of Heaven, lives in expectation of\nit; would not be surprised at its coming any day. For though the\ndistance is immense between the world as it is and his vision of the\nworld as it should be--a distance that the Evolutionist despairs of\nseeing traversed in thousands of years, if he believes it will be\ntraversed at all,--still, as the power of regeneration is supposed to be\nin the soul itself, which is possessed of infinite capacities and is\nopen continually to inspirations from the world of soul, the\ntransformation may begin when least expected, and may be completed\nbefore preparation for it can be made. Hence his boundless enthusiasm\nand hope; hence the order of his feeling, the glow of his language.\nHence his disposition to exaggerate the force of tendencies that point\nin his direction; to take the brightest view of events, and put the\nhappiest construction on the signs of the times. In the anti-slavery\nperiod the Transcendentalist glorified the negro beyond all warrant of\nfact, seeing in him an imprisoned soul struggling to be free. The same\nsoul he sees in woman oppressed by limitations; the same in the\ndrunkard, the gambler, the libertine. His eye is ever fixed on the\nfuture.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nRELIGION.\n\n\nIt was by no accident that the transcendental philosophy addressed\nitself at once to the questions of religion. It did so at the beginning,\nin Germany, and later, in England, and did so from the nature of the\ncase. Its very name implied that it maintained the existence of ideas in\nthe mind which transcended sensible experience. Such ideas fall within\nthe domain of religion; ideas of the infinite, the eternal, the\nabsolute; and the significance and import of these ideas exercised the\nminds of transcendental thinkers, according to their genius. Kant felt\nit necessary to reopen the problem of God and immortality; Fichte\nfollowed, Schelling and Hegel moved on the same plane.\n\nTranscendentalism was, in fact, a reaction against the moral and\npolitical skepticism which resulted directly from the prevailing\nphilosophy of sensation. Since Bacon's day, religious beliefs had been\ntaking hold on the enlightened mind of England and Europe. The drift of\nspeculation was strongly against, not the Christian system alone, but\nnatural religion, and the ideal foundation of morality. The writings of\nCollins, Dodwell, Mandeville, expressed more skepticism than they\ncreated, and betrayed a deeply-seated and widely-spread misgiving in\nregard to the fundamental truths of theology. Hume's argument against\nthe credibility of miracles was never answered, and the anxiety to\nanswer it was a confession of alarm from the heart of the church. The\nfamous XVIth chapter of Gibbon's \"Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire\"\nwas assailed furiously, but in vain, each assault exposing the weakness\nof the assailants; and it was only by adopting his history, and editing\nit with judicious notes, that the church silenced the enemy it could not\ncrush. The deists of the seventeenth century in no wise balanced their\ndenials by their affirmations, but left Christianity fearfully shattered\nby their blows. The champions of the church fought skepticism with\nskepticism, conceding in substance the points they superficially\nattacked. Towards the close of the seventeenth century Cudworth\nconfronted atheism with idealism, retreating upon Plato when the foe had\ncarried the other works; early in the century following, Butler, in the\ncelebrated \"Analogy,\" fought infidelity with weapons that infidelity\nmight have turned, and since has turned with deadly effect, against\nhimself. The ablest representative of Unitarianism was Joseph Priestley,\na materialist of the school of Hartley. The cardinal beliefs of religion\nwere debated in a way that was quite unsatisfactory in the light of\nreason, showing the extent to which faith had been undermined. Indeed,\nhad it not been for the power of institutions, customs, respectability,\nand tradition, the popular beliefs would have all but disappeared, so\ndeep into the heart of the people unbelief had penetrated. The church\nstood fast, because it was allied with power and fashion, not because it\nwas supported by reason or faith. The whole tone of feeling on sacred\nand ethical topics was low; divine ideas were defended by considerations\nof expediency; God was a probability; the immortality of the soul a\npossibility, a supplement to skepticism, an appendix to a philosophy\nwhich, finding no God here, presumed there must be one hereafter. There\nis no more soulless reading than the works of the Christian apologists\nof the seventeenth century. The infidels had more ideas, and apparently\nmore sincerity, but in neither was there any spiritual impulse or\nfervor.\n\nIn Germany the philosophy of Bacon and Locke did not strike deep root.\nThe day of Germany was to come later. Her thoughts were pent up in her\nown breast. She was isolated, and almost speechless. Her genius awoke\nwith the new philosophy. Under the influence of idealism it bloomed in\nthe richest of modern literatures. Her very skepticism, the much\ntalked-of rationalism, had an ideal origin. Strauss was a disciple of\nHegel. Bauer, and the \"historical school\" of Tuebingen worked out their\nproblem of New Testament criticism from the Hegelian idea, the\nconstructive force whereof was so powerful, that the negations lost\ntheir negative character, and showed primarily as affirmations of\nreason. By being adopted into the line of intellectual development of\nmankind, Christianity, though dethroned and disenchanted, was dignified\nas a supreme moment in the autobiography of God.\n\nFrederick the Great, in the middle of the eighteenth century, attracted\nliterary celebrities to his court, and gave an impulse, so far, to the\nGerman mind; but the French genius found more encouragement there than\nthe German, and in his time French genius was speeding fast in the way\nof skepticism. Condillac, Cabanis, d'Holbach, Helvetius, were of that\ngeneration. The \"Encyclopaedists,\" the most brilliant men and women of\nthe generation, were planning their work of demolition. Voltaire was the\ngreat name in contemporary literature. The books of Volney were popular\ntowards the end of the century. Skepticism and materialism had the\nfloor. It was fashionable to ridicule the belief in personal\nimmortality, and in enlightened circles to deny the existence of God.\nThe doctrines of Christianity were abandoned to priests and women;\nphilosophers deemed them too absurd to be argued against. Had the\nassault been less witty and more scientific, less acrimonious and more\nreasonable, less scornful and more consistent, its apparent success\nmight have been permanent. As it was, a change of mood occurred; a\nconservative spirit succeeded the destructive; order prevailed over\nanarchy; and the Catholic church, which had only been temporarily thrust\naside--not fatally wounded, not by any means disposed of--regained its\nsuspended power.\n\nBut rational or intellectual Christianity--in other words the system of\nProtestantism, in whatever form held--received a severe blow in France\nfrom these audacious hands. Religion took refuge in institutions and\nceremonial forms; and there remained little else except a kernel of\nsentiment in a thin shell of tradition. What beliefs were entertained\nwere accepted on authority; reason sought other fields of exercise,\nscientific, philosophical, literary; and a chill of indifference crept\nover the once religious world. From France, opinions adverse to\nChristianity were brought to America by travelled or curious people;\nthey pervaded the creative minds of our earliest epoch, and penetrated\nfar into the popular intelligence. The habit of thinking independently\nof authority and tradition became confirmed, and as a matter of course\nled to doubts and denials; for thinking was done in a temper of\ndefiance, which constrained the thought to obey the wish. Such\nphilosophical ideas as there were, came from France and England. Paley's\nwas the last word in morals; the \"Bridgewater Treatises\" were the\nreceived oracles in religion; the rules of practical judgment had\nusurped the dominion of faith.\n\nWhat pass things had come to in New England, in the centre of its\nculture, has been described in a previous chapter. It was time for a\nreaction to set in; and it came in the form of Transcendentalism. The\n\"sensational\" philosophy, it was contended, could not supply a basis for\nfaith. Its first principle was \"_Nihil in intellectu quod non prius in\nsensu_.\" \"There is nothing in the intellect that was not first in the\nsenses.\" From this principle nothing but skepticism could proceed. How,\nfor instance, asks the Transcendentalist, can the sensational philosophy\nof Locke and his disciples give us anything approaching to a certainty\nof the existence of God? The senses furnish no evidence of it. God is\nnot an object of sensation. He is not seen, felt, heard, tasted or\nsmelt. The objects of sense are material, local, incidental; God is\nimmaterial, universal, eternal. The objects of sense are finite; but a\nfinite God is no God; for God is infinite. Is it said that by men of\nold, bible men, God was seen, heard, clasped in human arms? The reply\nis, that whatever Being was so apparent and tangible, could not have\nbeen God. To the assertion that the Being announced himself as God,--the\ninfinite, the eternal God,--the challenge straightway is given: To whom\ndid he say it? How can it be proved that he said it? Is the record of\nhis saying it authentic? Might not the Being have made a false\nstatement? Can we be certain there was no mental hallucination? Suppose\nthese and other doubts of a similar character dispelled, still, hearing\nis not knowing. All we have is a tradition of God, a legend, a rumor, a\ndim reminiscence, that passes like a shadow across men's minds. The\nappeal to miracle is set aside by historical skepticism. The wonder\nlacks evidence; and to prove the wonder a miracle, is beyond\nachievement. A possibility, or at most, a probability of God's existence\nis all that sensationalism, with every advantage given it, can supply.\n\nAnd if this philosophy fails to give an assurance of God's existence,\nthe failure to throw light on his attributes is more signal. The senses\nreport things as they exist in relations, not as they exist in\nthemselves. Neither absolute power, absolute wisdom nor absolute\ngoodness is hinted at by the senses. The visible system of things\nabounds in contradictions that we cannot reconcile, puzzles we cannot\nexplain, mysteries we cannot penetrate, imperfections we cannot account\nfor, wrongs we cannot palliate, evils we cannot cover up or justify.\nThat a vein of wisdom, an element of goodness, an infusion of\nloving-kindness is in the world is evident; but to show that, is to go\nvery little way towards establishing the attributes of a Perfect Being.\nA God of limited power, wisdom or goodness, is no God, and no other does\nSensationalism offer. Transcendentalism points to the fact that under\nthe auspices of this philosophy atheism has spread; and along with\natheism the intellectual demoralization that accompanies the\ndisappearance of a cardinal idea.\n\nFrom this grave peril the Transcendentalist found an escape in flight to\nthe spiritual nature of man, in virtue of which he had an intuitive\nknowledge of God as a being, infinite and absolute in power, wisdom and\ngoodness; a direct perception like that which the senses have of\nmaterial objects; a perception that gains in distinctness, clearness and\npositiveness as the faculties through which it is obtained increase in\npower and delicacy. To the human mind, by its original constitution,\nbelongs the firm assurance of God's existence, as a half latent fact of\nconsciousness, and with it a dim sense of his moral attributes. To minds\ncapacious and sensitive the truth was disclosed in lofty ranges that\nlifted the horizon line, in every direction, above the cloud land of\ndoubt; to minds cultivated, earnest, devout, aspiring, the revelation\ncame in bursts of glory. The experiences of inspired men and women were\nrepeated. The prophet, the seer, the saint, was no longer a favored\nperson whose sayings and doings were recorded in the Bible, but a living\nperson, making manifest the wealth of soul in all human beings.\nCommunication with the ideal world was again opened through conscience;\nand communion with God, close and tender as is anywhere described by\ndevotees and mystics, was promised to the religious affections.\n\nThe Transcendentalist spoke of God with authority. His God was not\npossible, but real; not probable, but certain. In his high confidence he\nhad small respect for the labored reasonings of \"Natural Religion;\" the\nargument from design, so carefully elaborated by Paley, Brougham and the\nwriters of the \"Bridgewater Treatises,\" was interesting and useful as\nfar as it went, but was remanded to an inferior place. The demonstration\nfrom miracle was dismissed with feelings bordering on contempt, as\nillogical and childish.\n\nTaking his faith with him into the world of nature and of human life,\nthe Transcendentalist, sure of the divine wisdom and love, found\neverywhere joy for mourning and beauty for ashes. Passing through the\nvalley of Baca, he saw springs bubbling up from the sand, and making\npools for thirsty souls. Wherever he came, garments of heaviness were\ndropped and robes of praise put on. Evil was but the prophecy of good,\nwrong the servant of right, pain the precursor of peace, sorrow the\nminister to joy. He would acknowledge no exception to the rule of an\nabsolute justice and an inexorable love. It was certain that all was\nwell, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. He was, as we have\nsaid, an optimist--not of the indifferent sort that make the maxim\n\"Whatever is, is right\" an excuse for idleness--but of the heroic kind\nwho, by refreshing their minds with thoughts of the absolute goodness,\nkeep alive their faith, hope, endeavor, and quicken themselves to\nefforts at understanding, interpreting and bringing to the surface the\ndivine attributes. For himself he had no misgivings, and no alarm at the\nmisgivings of others; believing them due, either to some\nmisunderstanding that might be corrected, or to some moral defect that\ncould be cured. Even Atheism, of the crudest, coarsest, most stubborn\ndescription, had no terrors for him. It was in his judgment a matter of\ndefinition mainly. Utter atheism was all but inconceivable to him; the\nessential faith in divine things under some form of mental perception\nbeing too deeply planted in human nature to be eradicated or buried.\n\nTaking his belief with him into the world of history, the\nTranscendentalist discovered the faith in God beneath all errors,\ndelusions, idolatries and superstition. He read it into unintelligible\nscriptures; he drew it forth from obsolete symbols; he dragged it to the\nlight from the darkness of hateful shrines and the bloody mire of pagan\naltars. Mr. Parker meditated a work on the religious history of mankind,\nin which the development of the theistic idea was to be traced from its\nshadowy beginnings to its full maturity; and this he meant should be the\ncrowning work of his life. Sure of his first principle, he had no\nhesitation in going into caves and among the ruins of temples. Had that\nwork been completed, the Transcendentalist's faith in God would have\nreceived its most eloquent statement.\n\nThe other cardinal doctrine of religion--the immortality of the\nsoul,--Transcendentalism was proud of having rescued from death in the\nsame way. The philosophy of sensation could give no assurance of\npersonal immortality. Here, too, its fundamental axiom, \"_Nihil in\nintellectu quod non prius in sensu_,\" was discouraging to belief. For\nimmortality is not demonstrable to the senses. Experience affords no\nbasis for conviction, and knowledge cannot on any pretext be claimed.\nThe sensational school was divided into two parties. The first party\nconfessed that the immortality of the soul was a thing not only\nunprovable, but a thing easily disproved, a thing improbable, and, to a\nclear mind, impossible to believe. The soul being a product of\norganization, at all events fatally implicated in organization,\nconditioned by it in all respects, must perish with organization, as the\nflower perishes with the stem. Of a spirit distinct from body there is,\naccording to this school, no evidence, either before death or after.\nMan's prospect, therefore, is bounded by this life. Dreamers may have\nvisions of another; mourners may sigh for another; ardent natures may\nhope for another; but to believe in another is, to the rational mind,\naccording to this philosophy, impossible. The sentence \"dust thou art,\nand to dust thou shalt return,\" may seem a hard one; but as it cannot be\nreversed or modified, it must be accepted with submission; and in\ndefault of another life, the honest man will make the most of the life\nhe has; not necessarily saying with the sensualist: \"Let us eat and\ndrink, for to-morrow we die;\" but with the hero reminding himself that\nhe must \"Work while it is day, for the night cometh in which no man can\nwork.\" The modern disciples of this doctrine of annihilation speak in a\ntone of lofty courage of their destiny, and disguise under shining and\nmany-colored garments of anticipation, the fact of their personal\ncessation. The thinkers find refuge in the intellectual problems of the\npresent; the workers pile up monuments that shall endure when they are\ngone; poets like George Eliot, make grand music on the harp-strings of\nthe common humanity; but the fact remains that the philosophy of\nexperience abandons, or did before the advent of spiritualism--the\nexpectation of an existence after death.\n\nThe other branch of the Sensational school fell back on authority, and\nreceived on the tradition of history what could not be verified by\nscience. Immortality was accepted as a doctrine of instituted religion,\ntaken on the credit of revelation, and sealed by the resurrection of\nJesus. As an article of faith it was accepted without comment. If we\nhave not seen the glorified dead, others have, and their witness is\nrecorded in the Scriptures. Beyond that believers did not care to go;\nbeyond that advised no one else to go. To question the genuineness of\nthe Scriptures, to cast doubt on the resurrection of Jesus, to intimate\nthat the tradition of the church is a thin stream that murmurs\npleasantly in the shade of the sacred groves, but would dry up if the\nsun-light were let in, was resented as an offence against reverence and\nmorality. By such as these the belief that slipped away from the reason\nwas detained by the will.\n\nBut beliefs thus appropriated are insecurely held. The inactivity of the\nmind cannot be guaranteed; a slight disturbance of its tamely\nacquiescent condition may set its whole scheme of opinions afloat. A\nsentence on a printed page, a word let fall in conversation, a\ndiscovered fact, an awakened suspicion, a suggestion of doubt by a\nfriend, may stir the thought whose movement will bring the whole\nstructure down. There being no certainty, only arbitrary content; no\npersonal conviction, only formal acquiescence; there was nothing to\nprevent the belief from disappearing altogether, and leaving the mind\nvacant.\n\nEven when retained, beliefs thus held have no vitality. They are not\nliving faiths in any intelligent sense. Useful they may be for pulpit\ndeclamation and closet discussion; serviceable on funeral occasions and\nin chambers of sorrow; available for purposes of moral impression; but\ninspiring they are not; actively sustaining and consoling they are not.\nTheir effect on the conduct of life is almost imperceptible. They are\nappendages to the mind, not parts of it; proprieties, not properties.\nThey are to be reckoned as part of a man's stock in trade, not as part\nof his being.\n\nTranscendentalism, by taking the belief in immortality out of these\nincidental and doubtful associations, and making it a constituent\nelement in the constitution of the mind itself, thought to rescue it\nfrom its precarious position, and place it beyond the reach of danger.\nNo belief was, on the whole, so characteristic of Transcendentalism as\nthis; none was so steadfastly assumed, so constantly borne in view.\nImmortality was here a postulate, a first principle. Theodore Parker\ncalled it a fact of consciousness--the intensity of his conviction\nrendering him careless of precision in speech. The writings of Emerson\nare redolent of the faith. Even when he argues in his way against the\naccepted creed, and casts doubt on every form in which the doctrine is\nentertained, the loftiness of his language about the soul carries the\npresage of immortality with it. The \"Dial\" has no argument about\nimmortality; no paper in the whole series is devoted to the subject; the\nfaith was too deep and essential to be talked about--it was assumed. The\nTranscendentalist was an enthusiast on this article. He spoke, not as\none who surmises, conjectures, is on the whole inclined to think; but as\none who knows beyond cavil or question. We never met a man whose\nassurance of immortality was as strong as Theodore Parker's. The\nobjections of materialists did not in the least disturb him. In the\ncompany of the most absolute of them he avowed his conviction. What\nothers clung to as supports--the church tradition, the story of the\nraising of Lazarus, the account of the resurrection of Jesus--were to\nhim stumbling blocks in the way of spiritual faith, for they drew\nattention away from the witness of the soul.\n\nThe preaching of Transcendentalists caused, in all parts of the\ncountry, a revival of interest and of faith in personal immortality;\nspiritualized the idea of it; enlarged the scope of the belief, and\nennobled its character; established an organic connection between the\npresent life and the future, making them both one in substance;\ndisabused people of the coarse notion that the next life was an incident\nof their experience, and compelled them to think of it as a normal\nextension of their being; substituted aspiration after spiritual\ndeliverance and perfection, for hope of happiness and fear of misery;\nrecalled attention to the nature and capacity of the soul itself; in a\nword, announced the natural immortality of the soul by virtue of its\nessential quality. The fanciful reasoning of Plato's \"_Phaedon_\" was\nsupplemented by new readings in psychology, and strengthened by powerful\nmoral supports; the highest desires, the purest feelings, the deepest\nsympathies, were enlisted in its cause; death was made incidental to\nlife; lower life was made subordinate to higher; and men who were\nbeginning to doubt whether the demand for personal immortality was\nentirely honorable in one who utterly trusted in God, thoroughly\nappreciated the actual world, and fairly respected his own dignity, were\nreassured by a faith which promised felicity on terms that compromised\nneither reason nor virtue. The very persons who had let go the hope of\nimmortality because they could not accept it at the cost of sacrificing\ntheir confidence in God's instant justice, were glad to recover it as a\npromise of fulfilment to their dearest desire for spiritual expansion.\n\nThe Sensational philosophy had done a worse harm to the belief in\nimmortality, than by rendering the prospect of it uncertain; it had\nrendered the character of it pusillanimous and plebeian; it had demanded\nit on the ground that God must explain himself, must correct his\nblunders and apologize for his partiality in distributing sugar plums;\nit had argued for it from personal, social, sectarian, and other\nsympathies and antipathies; it had expected it on the strength of a\nrumor that a specially holy man, a saint of Judea, had appeared after\ndeath to his peculiar friends; it had pleaded for it, as children beg\nfor dessert after bread and meat. The transcendental philosophy\ndismissed these unworthy claims, made no demand, put up no petition, but\nsimply made articulate the prophecy of the spiritual nature in man, and\ntrusted the eternal goodness for its fulfilment. Other arguments might\ncome to the support of this anticipation; history might bring its\ncontribution of recorded facts; suffering and sorrow might add their\npathetic voices, bewailing the oppressive power of circumstance, and\ncrying for peace out of affliction; the biographies of Jesus might\nfurnish illustration of the victory of the greatest souls over death;\nbut considerations of this kind received their importance from the light\nthey threw on the immortal attributes of spirit. Apart from these their\nsignificance was gone.\n\nThe pure Transcendentalists saw everywhere evidence of the greatness of\nthe soul. Christianity they regarded as its chief manifestation.\nImperfect Transcendentalists there were, who used the fundamental\npostulates of the transcendental philosophy to confirm their faith in\nsupernatural realities. Their Transcendentalism amounted merely to\nthis, that man had a natural capacity for _receiving_ supernatural\ntruths, when presented by revelation. The _possession_ of such truths,\neven in germ; the power to unfold them naturally, by process of mental\nor spiritual growth; the faculty to seize, define, shape, legitimate and\nenthrone them, they denied. The soul, according to them, was recipient,\nnot originating or creative. They continued to be Christians of the\n\"Evangelical\" stamp; champions of special intervention of light and\ngrace; hearty believers in the divinity of the Christ and the saving\ninfluence of the Holy Ghost; holding to the peculiar inspiration of the\nBible, and the personal need of regeneration. The wisest teachers of\northodoxy belonged to this school.\n\nThe pure Transcendentalist went much further. According to him, the\nseeds of truth, if not the outline forms of truth, were contained in the\nsoul itself, all ready to expand in bloom and beauty, as it felt the\nlight and heat of the upper world. Sir Kenelm Digby relates that in\nPadua he visited the laboratory of a famous physician, and was there\nshown a small pile of fine ashes under a glass. On the application of a\ngentle heat, it arose, assumed the shape of its original flower, all its\nparts being perfectly distinct in form and well defined in character.\nDuring the application of the heat, the spectral plant preserved its\ndelicate outline; but on withdrawal of the heat, it became dust again.\nSo, according to the Transcendentalist, the spiritual being of\nman--which apparently is a heap of lifeless ashes on the surface of\nmaterial existence--when graciously shone upon by knowledge and love,\nputs on divine attributes, glows with beauty, palpitates with joy, gives\nout flashes of power, distils odors of sanctity, and exhibits the marks\nof a celestial grace. The soul, when thus awakened, utters oracles of\nwisdom, sings, prophesies, thunders decalogues, pronounces beatitudes,\ndiscourses grandly of God and divine things, performs wonders of healing\non sick bodies and wandering minds, rises to heights of heroism and\nsaintliness.\n\nFrom this point of vision, it was easy to survey the history of mankind,\nand, in the various religions of the world, see the efforts of the soul\nto express itself in scriptures, emblems, doctrines, altar forms,\narchitecture, painting, moods and demonstrations of piety. The\nTranscendentalist rendered full justice to all these, studied them,\nadmired them, confessed their inspiration. Of these faiths Christianity\nwas cheerfully acknowledged to be the queen. The supremacy of Jesus was\ngranted with enthusiasm. His teachings were accepted as the purest\nexpressions of religious truth; His miracles were regarded as the\nnatural achievements of a soul of such originality and force. In his\naddress to the senior class in Divinity College, 1838, Mr. Emerson spoke\nof Christ's miracles as being \"one with the blowing clover and the\nfalling rain,\" and urged the young candidates for the ministry to let\nhis life and dialogues \"lie as they befel, active and warm, part of\nhuman life, and of the landscape, and of the cheerful day.\" When, in\n1840, Theodore Parker wrote his \"Levi Blodgett\" letter, he believed in\nmiracles, the miracles of the New Testament and many others besides,\nmore than the Christians about him were willing to accept.\n\n     \"It may be said these religious teachers (Zoroaster, Buddha, Fo)\n     pretended to work miracles. I would not deny that they _did_ work\n     miracles. If a man is obedient to the law of his mind, conscience\n     and heart, since his intellect, character and affections are in\n     harmony with the laws of God, I take it he can do works that are\n     impossible to others, who have not been so faithful, and\n     consequently are not \"one with God\" as he is; and this is all that\n     is meant by a miracle.\" \"The possession of this miraculous power,\n     when it can be proved, as I look at the thing, is only a _sign_,\n     which may be uncertain, of the superior genius of a religious\n     teacher, or a _sign_ that he will utter the truth, and never a\n     _proof_ thereof.\"\n\nThe Transcendentalist was a cordial believer in marvels, as being so\nhearty a believer in the potency of the spiritual laws. Parker's\nopposition to the miracles of the New Testament was provoked by the\nexclusive claim that was put forward by their defenders, and by the\nposition they were thrust into as pillars of doctrine. His wish to make\nit appear that truth could stand without them, impelled him to strain at\ntheir overthrow. Later, his studies in New Testament criticism confirmed\nhis suspicion that the testimony in their favor was altogether\ninadequate to sustain their credibility. The theory of Bauer and his\ndisciples of the Tuebingen school seemed to him unanswerable, and he\nabandoned, as a scholar, much that as a Transcendentalist he might have\nbeen disposed to retain. W. H. Furness, author of several biographical\nstudies on the life and character of Jesus--a Transcendentalist\nof the most impassioned school, but no adept in historical\ncriticism--maintained to the last the credibility of the Christian\nmiracles, and purely on the ground of their perfect naturalness as\nperformed by a person so spiritually exalted as Jesus was. The more\nardent his admiration of that character, the more unshrinking his belief\nin these manifestations of its superiority. Dr. Furness is prepared to\nthink that if no miracles had been recorded, nevertheless miracles must\nhave been wrought, and would, but for some blindness or skepticism, have\nbeen mentioned.\n\nThe charge that Transcendentalism denied the reality of supernatural\npowers and influences shows how imperfectly it was apprehended. It\nseemed to deny them because it transferred them to another sphere. It\nregarded man himself as a supernatural being; not the last product of\nnature, but the lord of nature; not the _creature_ of organization, but\nits creator. In its extreme form, Transcendentalism was a deification of\nnature, in the highest aspects of Beauty. It raised human qualities to\nthe supreme power; it ascribed to extraordinary virtue in its exalted\nstates the efficient grace that is commonly attributed to the Holy\nSpirit. The pure Transcendentalist spoke of the experiences and powers\nof the illuminated soul with as much extravagance of rapture as one of\nthe newly redeemed ever expressed. The profane made sport of his\nfanaticisms and fervors in the same way that they made sport of the wild\nover-gush of a revival meeting. The demonstrations of feeling were in\nfact, precisely similar; only in the one case the excitement was traced\nto the Christ in the skies, in the other to the Christ who was the soul\nof the man; in the one case a superhuman being was imagined as operating\non the soul; in the other case the soul was supposed to be giving\nexpression to itself.\n\nThe Transcendentalist was not careful enough in making this distinction,\nand was, therefore, to blame for a portion of the misapprehension that\nensued. He often found in sacred literature, thoughts which he himself\nput there. Parker, discoursing of inspiration, cites Paul and John as\nholding the same doctrine with himself; though it is plain to the single\nmind that their doctrine was in no respect the same, but so different as\nto be in contradiction. Paul and John, it is hardly too much to say, set\nup their doctrine in precise opposition to the doctrine of the\nTranscendentalists. Paul declared that the natural man could _not_\ndiscern divine things; that they were foolishness to him; that they must\nbe spiritually discerned; that the Christian was able to discern them\nspiritually _because he had_ the \"mind of Christ.\" The eighth chapter of\nthe Epistle to the Romans contains sentences that, taken singly, apart\nfrom their connection, comfort the cockles of the transcendental heart;\nbut the writer is glorifying Christ the inspirer; not the soul he\ninspired. He opens the chapter with the affirmation that \"there is no\ncondemnation to them which are in CHRIST JESUS, who walk not after the\nflesh, but after the spirit,\" and follows it with the saying that \"if\nany man have not the _Spirit of Christ_, he is none of his.\" This is\nthe spirit that \"quickens mortal bodies,\" that makes believers to be\n\"Sons of God,\" giving them the spirit of adoption whereby they cry\n\"Abba, Father,\" bearing witness with their spirit that they are \"the\nchildren of God.\" This is the spirit that \"helpeth our infirmities,\" and\n\"maketh intercession with groanings which cannot be uttered.\"\nTranscendentalism deliberately broke with Christianity. Paul said \"other\nfoundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.\"\nTranscendentalism responded: \"Jesus Christ built on my foundation, the\nsoul;\" and, for thus answering, was classed with those who used as\nbuilding materials \"wood, hay, stubble,\" which the fire would consume.\nIn the view of Transcendentalism, Christianity was an illustrious form\nof natural religion--Jesus was a noble type of human nature; revelation\nwas disclosure of the soul's mystery; inspiration was the filling of the\nsoul's lungs; salvation was spiritual vitality.\n\nTranscendentalism carried its appeal to metaphysics. At present physics\nhave the floor. Our recent studies have been in the natural history of\nthe soul. Its spiritual history is discredited. But the human mind ebbs\nand flows. The Bains and Spencers and Taines may presently give place to\nother prophets; psychology may come to the front again, and with it will\nreappear the sages and seers. In that event, the religion of\nTranscendentalism will revive, and will have a long and fair day.\n\nFor it can hardly be supposed that the present movement in the line of\nobservation is the final one; that henceforth we are to continue\nstraight on till, by the path of physiology, we arrive at absolute\ntruth; that idealism is dead and gone for ever, and materialism of a\nrefined type holds the future in its hand. The triumphs of the\nscientific method in the natural world are wonderful. The law of\nevolution has its lap full of promise. But one who has studied at all\nthe history of human thought; who has seen philosophies crowned and\ndiscrowned, sceptred and outcast; who has followed the changing fortunes\nof opposing schools, and witnessed the alternate victories and defeats\nthat threatened, each in its turn, to decide the fate of philosophy,\nwill be slow to believe that the final conflict has been fought, or is\nto be, for hundreds of years to come. The principles of the\n\"Sensational\" philosophy have, within the last half century, been\nrevived and restated with great power by Mill, Bain, Spencer, Taine, and\nother leaders of speculative opinion both in England and Europe. Recent\ndiscoveries and generalizations in physical science have lent\ncountenance to them. The investigations in physiology and biology, the\nresearches in the regions of natural history, the revelations of\nchemistry, have all combined to confirm their truth. Psychology, in the\nhands of its latest masters, has worked successfully in their interest.\nThe thinness, shallowness and dry technicality of the original school\nhave given place to a rich and varied exposition of the facts of organic\nlife in its origin, development and results. The original form of the\nSensational philosophy as it prevailed in Europe is described by Mill as\n\"the shallowest set of doctrines which perhaps, were ever passed off\nupon a cultivated age as a complete psychological system; a system which\naffected to resolve all the phenomena of the human mind into sensation,\nby a process which essentially consisted in merely _calling_ all states\nof mind, however heterogeneous, by that name; a philosophy now\nacknowledged to consist solely of a set of verbal generalizations,\nexplaining nothing, distinguishing nothing, leading to nothing.\" The\n\"Sensational\" philosophy is now presented as the philosophy of\n\"experience.\" Its occupation is to resolve into results of experience\nand processes of organic life the _a priori_ conceptions that have been\naccepted as simple and primitive data of consciousness, by the Ideal\nphilosophy. Mill was one of the first to undertake this from the\npsychological side, analyzing the processes of reason, and making\naccount of the contents of the mind. Lewes, Spencer, Tyndall have\napproached the same problem from the side of organization. In the first\nedition of the Logic, Mill clearly indicated the ground he took in the\ncontroversy between the two schools; in the last edition, he defined his\nposition more clearly, against Whewell, and in agreement with Bain.\n\nIn the article on Coleridge, published in the _London and Westminister\nReview_, March, 1840, and republished in the second volume of\n\"Dissertations and Discussions,\" Mill declares explicitly, that in his\njudgment, the truth on the much-debated question between the two\nphilosophies lies with the school of Locke and Bentham:\n\n     \"The nature of laws and things in themselves, or the hidden causes\n     of the phenomena which are the objects of experience, appear to us\n     radically inaccessible to the human faculties. We see no ground for\n     believing that any thing can be the object of our knowledge except\n     our experience, and what can be inferred from our experience by the\n     analogies of experience itself; nor that there is any idea, feeling\n     or power in the human mind, which, in order to account for it,\n     requires that its origin should be referred to any other source. We\n     are, therefore, at issue with Coleridge on the central idea of his\n     philosophy; and we find no need of, and no use for, the peculiar\n     technical terminology which he and his masters, the Germans, have\n     introduced into philosophy, for the double purpose of giving\n     logical precision to doctrines which we do not admit, and of\n     marking a relation between those abstract doctrines and many\n     concrete experimental truths, which this language, in our judgment,\n     serves not to elucidate, but to disguise and obscure.\"\n\nIn the examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, he still more\nemphatically expressed his dissent from Schelling, Cousin, and every\nschool of idealism, rejecting the doctrine of intuitive knowledge;\ntaking the eternal ground from beneath the ideas of the Infinite and\nAbsolute; sharply questioning the well-conceded interpretations of\nconsciousness; resolving the \"first principles\" into mental habits; and\neven going so far as to doubt whether twice two necessarily made\nfour.[3]\n\n[3] Vol. 1, page 89, 90.\n\nThe system of Spencer and other expositors of the doctrine of evolution\nis, in its general features and its ultimate tendency, too familiar to\nbe stated. Its hostility to the intuitive philosophy must be obvious\neven to unpractised minds. The atomic theory of the constitution of\nmatter, which, in one or another form, is accepted by the majority of\nscientific men, gives ominous prediction of disaster to every scheme\nthat is built on the necessary truths of pure reason.\n\nBut the philosophers of the experimental school are by no means in\naccord among themselves, on a matter so cardinal as the relation of mind\nto organization. In the latest edition of the Logic, Mill repeats the\nlanguage used in the first:[4]\n\n     \"That every mental state has a nervous state for its immediate\n     antecedent, though extremely probable, cannot hitherto be said to\n     be proved, in the conclusive manner in which this can be proved of\n     sensations; and even were it certain, yet every one must admit that\n     we are wholly ignorant of the characteristics of these nervous\n     states; we know not, and have no means of knowing, in what respect\n     one of them differs from another.... The successions, therefore,\n     which obtain among mental phenomena, do not admit of being deduced\n     from the physiological laws of our nervous organization.\" \"It must\n     by no means be forgotten that the laws of mind may be derivative\n     laws resulting from laws of animal life, and that their truth,\n     therefore, may ultimately depend on physical conditions; and the\n     influence of physiological states or physiological changes in\n     altering or counter-acting the mental successions, is one of the\n     most important departments of psychological study. But on the other\n     hand, to reject the resource of psychological analysis, and\n     construct the theory of mind solely on such data as physiology\n     affords at present, seems to me as great an error in principle,\n     and an even more serious one in practice. Imperfect as is the\n     science of mind, I do not scruple to affirm that it is in a\n     considerably more advanced state than the portion of physiology\n     which corresponds with it; and to discard the former for the latter\n     appears to me to be an infringement of the true canons of inductive\n     philosophy.\"\n\n[4] Logic, p. 591. Amer. Edition.\n\nIn a previous chapter[5] Mill had said:\n\n     \"I am far from pretending that it may not be capable of proof, or\n     that it is not an important addition to our knowledge, if proved,\n     that certain motions in the particles of bodies are the\n     _conditions_ of the production of heat or light; that certain\n     assignable physical modifications of the nerves may be the\n     conditions, not only of our sensations and emotions, but even of\n     our thoughts; that certain mechanical and chemical conditions may,\n     in the order of nature, be sufficient to determine to action the\n     physiological laws of life. All I insist upon, in common with every\n     thinker who entertains any clear idea of the logic of science, is,\n     that it shall not be supposed that by proving these things, one\n     step would be made toward a real explanation of heat, light, or\n     sensation; or that the generic peculiarity of those phenomena can\n     be in the least degree evaded by any such discoveries, however well\n     established. Let it be shown, for instance, that the most complex\n     series of physical causes and effects succeed one another in the\n     eye and in the brain, to produce a sense of color; rays falling on\n     the eye, refracted, converging, crossing one another, making an\n     inverted image on the retina; and after this a motion--let it be a\n     vibration, or a rush of nervous fluid, or whatever else you are\n     pleased to suppose, along the optic nerve--a propagation of this\n     motion to the brain itself, and as many more different motions as\n     you choose; still, at the end of these motions there is something\n     which is not motion, there is a feeling or sensation of color. The\n     mode in which any one of the motions produces the next, may\n     possibly be susceptible of explanation by some general law of\n     motion; but the mode in which the last motion produces the\n     sensation of color cannot be explained by any motion; it is the law\n     of color, which is, and must always remain a peculiar thing. Where\n     our consciousness recognizes between two phenomena an inherent\n     distinction; where we are sensible of a difference, which is not\n     merely of degree; and feel that no adding one of the phenomena to\n     itself will produce the other; any theory which attempts to bring\n     either under the laws of the other must be false.\"\n\n[5] Logic, p. 548. Amer. Edition.\n\nTo precisely the same effect, DuBois Reymond, in an address to the\nCongress of German Naturalists given in Leipsic:\n\n     \"It is absolutely and forever inconceivable that a number of\n     carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen atoms, should be otherwise\n     than indifferent to their own position and motion, past, present,\n     or future. It is utterly inconceivable how consciousness should\n     result from their joint action.\"\n\nThe position of John Tyndall is well understood. It was avowed in 1860\nin the _Saturday Review_; again in his address to the Mathematical and\nPhysical Section of the British Association in 1868, wherein he declared\nthat\n\n     \"The passage from the physics of the brain to the corresponding\n     facts of consciousness is unthinkable. Granted that a thought and\n     a definite molecular action in the brain occur simultaneously, we\n     do not possess the organ, nor, apparently, any rudiment of the\n     organ, which would enable us to pass by a process of reasoning from\n     the one phenomenon to the other. They appear together, but we do\n     not know why.\"\n\nIn 1875, reviewing Martineau in the _Popular Science Monthly_ for\nDecember, Tyndall calls attention to these declarations, and quotes\nother language of his own to the same purpose:\n\n     \"You cannot satisfy the understanding in its demand for logical\n     continuity between molecular processes and the phenomena of\n     consciousness. This is a rock on which materialism must inevitably\n     split whenever it pretends to be a complete philosophy of the human\n     mind.\"\n\nMr. John Fiske, a disciple of Herbert Spencer, and an exceedingly able\nexpositor of the philosophy of which Spencer is the acknowledged chief,\nmakes assertions equally positive:[6]\n\n     \"However strict the parallelism may be within the limits of our\n     experience, between the phenomena of the mind, and the segment of\n     the circle of motions, the task of transcending or abolishing the\n     radical antithesis between the phenomena of mind and the phenomena\n     of matter, must always remain an impracticable task; for, in order\n     to transcend or abolish this radical antithesis, we must be\n     prepared to show how a given quantity of molecular motion in nerve\n     tissue can be transformed into a definable amount of ideation or\n     feeling. But this, it is quite safe to say, can never be done.\"\n\n[6] Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, Vol. II., p. 442.\n\nThere are of course, distinguished names on the other side. The work on\n\"Intelligence,\" by Mr. Taine, which Mr. Mill warmly commends as the \"the\nfirst serious effort (in France) to supply the want of a better than the\nofficial psychology,\" cannot be wisely overlooked by any one interested\nin this problem. Taine objects to Tyndall's statement of the problem,\ndeclares that by approaching it from another point, it is soluble, and\nfrankly undertakes to solve it.[7]\n\n[7] On Intelligence, Book III., chap. I.\n\n     \"When we consider closely any one of our conceptions--that of a\n     plant, an animal, a mineral--we find that the primitive threads of\n     which it is woven, are sensations, and sensations only. We have\n     proof of this already if we recollect that our ideas are only\n     reviving sensations, that our ideas are nothing more than images\n     which have become signs, and that thus this elementary tissue\n     subsists in a more or less disguised form at all stages of our\n     thought.\" \"It is true that we cannot conceive the two events\n     otherwise than as irreducible to one another; but that may depend\n     on the way we conceive them, and not on their actual qualities;\n     their incompatibility is perhaps rather apparent than real; it\n     arises on our side and not on theirs.\"\n\nMr. George H. Lewes[8] follows closely Taine's line of argument, but\ndevelopes it with more system. He too quotes Tyndall, alludes to DuBois\nReymond and makes reference to Mill. Lewes holds it to be a severe\ndeduction from proven facts \"that the neural process and the feeling are\none and the same process viewed under different aspects. Viewed from the\nphysical or objective side, it is a neural process; viewed from the\npsychological or subjective side, it is a sentient process.\"\n\n[8] Problems of Life and Mind II. pp. 410, 415.\n\n     \"It is not wonderful that conceptions so dissimilar as those of\n     Motion and Feeling should seem irreducible to a common term, while\n     the one is regarded as the symbol of a process in the object, and\n     the other as the symbol of a process in the subject. But\n     psychological analysis leads to the conclusion that the objective\n     process and the subjective process are simply the twofold aspects\n     of one and the same fact; in the one aspect it is the Felt, in the\n     other it is the Feeling.\"\n\nFor the remarkable reasonings by which these assertions are justified,\nthe readers must consult the works quoted. Their novelty renders any but\nan extended account of them unfair; and an extended account would be out\nof place in a general study like this.\n\nShould the analyses of Taine and Lewes prove successful at last, and be\naccepted by the authorities in speculative philosophy, idealism, as a\nphilosophy, must disappear. The days of metaphysics in the old sense,\nwill be numbered; the German schools from Kant to Hegel will become\nobsolete; Jacobi's doctrine of faith, Fichte's doctrine of the absolute\nEgo, Schelling's doctrine of intellectual intuition, will be forgotten;\nCousin's influence will be gone; the fundamental ideas of Transcendental\nteachers, French, English, American, will be discredited; and the\nbeliefs founded on them will fade away. There will, however, be no cause\nto apprehend the personal, social, moral or spiritual demoralization\nwhich the \"Sensualist\" doctrines of the last century were accused of\nencouraging. The attitude of the human mind towards the great problems\nof destiny has so far altered, the problems themselves have so far\nchanged their face, that no shock will be felt in the passage from the\nphilosophy of intuition to that of experience. Questions respecting the\norigin, order and regulation of the world, the laws of character, the\nconstitution of society, the conditions of welfare, the prospects and\nrelations of the individual, are put in new forms, discussed by new\narguments, and answered by new assurances. The words atheism and\nmaterialism have passed through so many definitions, the conceptions\nthey stand for have become so completely transformed by the mutations of\nthought, that the ancient antipathies are not longer excusable; the\nancient fears are weak. The sanctities that once were set apart in ideal\nshrines will be perfectly at home among the demonstrated facts of common\nlife.\n\nIf, on the other hand, the school to which Spencer, Fiske and Tyndall\nbelong is right, the science of mind will recover its old dignity,\nthough under new conditions. Nobody has spoken more plainly against the\nintuitive philosophy, than Mill. No one probably is further from it than\nTyndall, though he responds in sentiment to the eloquent affirmations of\nMartineau, and quotes Emerson enthusiastically, as \"a profoundly\nreligious man who is really and entirely undaunted by the discoveries\nof science, past, present or prospective; one by whom scientific\nconceptions are continually transmuted into the finer forms and warmer\nhues of an ideal world.\" Under the influences of the new psychology,\ndogmatic idealism will probably be deprived of its sceptre and sway. The\nclaim to intuitive knowledge of definite truths of any order whatsoever\nwill be abandoned, as untenable on scientific or philosophical grounds;\nbut imagination, which, as Emerson says, \"respects the cause,\"--\"the\nvision of an inspired soul reading arguments and affirmations in all\nnature of that which it is driven to say;\" emotion, which contains all\nthe possibilities of feeling and hope; the moral sentiment, which\naffirms principles with imperative authority; these remain, and claim\ntheir right to create ideal worlds of which the natural world is image\nand symbol. The Transcendentalism which concedes to all mankind\nspiritual faculties by virtue whereof divine entities are seen in\ndefinite shape--the personal God--the city of the heavenly\nJerusalem--will be superseded by the poetic idealism that is the cheer\nand inspiration of poetic minds, animating them with fine visions, and\ngladdening them with unfading, though vague, anticipations.\n\nThe Transcendental doctrine has been exposed to most deadly assault on\nthe ethical side. The theory of moral intuition, which held that \"every\nman is, according to the cautious statement of James Walker, born with a\nmoral faculty, or the elements of a moral faculty, which, on being\ndeveloped, creates in him the idea of a right and a wrong in human\nconduct; which summons him before the tribunal of his own soul for\njudgment on the rectitude of his purposes; which grows up into an\nhabitual sense of personal responsibility, and thus prepares him, as his\nviews are enlarged, to comprehend the moral government of God, and to\nfeel his own responsibility to God as a moral governor,\"--has fallen\ninto general disrepute; and in its place a persuasion is abroad, that,\nin the language of Grote, \"the universal and essential tendencies of the\nmoral sense, admit of being most satisfactorily deduced from other\nelementary principles of our nature.\" It is now a widely accepted belief\namong conservative thinkers, that \"conscience\" is not a faculty, or an\nelement, existing here in germ, there in maturity; but is the result of\nsocial experience. Moderate Transcendentalists conceded the necessity of\n_educating_ conscience, which still implied the existence of a\nconscience or moral sense to be educated. It is now contended that\nconscience itself is a product of education, a deposit left in the\ncrucible of experiment, a habit formed by the usage of mankind. The\njustification of this view has gone so far, that it seems likely to\nbecome the recognized account of this matter; but in course of\nsubstantiating this doctrine, a new foundation for ethical feeling and\njudgment is laid, which is as immovable as the transcendental \"facts of\nconsciousness.\" The moral sentiments are represented as resting on the\nentire past of the race, on reefs of fact built up by the lives of\nmillions of men, from the bottom of the deep of humanity. The finest\nmoral sensibility caps the peak of the world's effort at\nself-adjustment, as the white, unsullied snow rests on the summit of\nthe Jungfrau. The intuition is referred to in another genesis, but it is\nequally clear and equally certain. The difference of origin creates no\ndifference of character. Moral distinctions are precisely the same for\nidealists and sensationalists. Here at least, the transcendentalist and\nhis adversary can dwell in amity together.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nTHE SEER.\n\n\nA discerning German writer, Herman Grimm, closes a volume of fifteen\nessays, with one on Ralph Waldo Emerson, written in 1861, approved in\n1874. The essay is interesting, apart from its literary merit, as giving\nthe impression made by Mr. Emerson on a foreigner to whom his reputation\nwas unknown, and a man of culture to whom books and opinions rarely\nbrought surprise. He saw a volume of the \"Essays\" lying on the table of\nan American acquaintance, looked into it, and was surprised that, being\ntolerably well practised in reading English, he understood next to\nnothing of the contents. He asked about the author, and, learning that\nhe was highly esteemed in his own country, he opened the book again,\nread further, and was so much struck by passages here and there, that he\nborrowed it, carried it home, took down Webster's dictionary, and began\nreading in earnest. The extraordinary construction of the sentences, the\napparent absence of logical continuity, the unexpected turns of thought,\nthe use of original words, embarrassed him at first; but soon he\ndiscovered the secret and felt the charms. The man had fresh thoughts,\nemployed a living speech, was a genuine person. The book was bought,\nread and re-read, \"and now every time I take it up, I seem to take it up\nfor the first time.\"\n\nThe power that the richest genius has in Shakspeare, Rafael, Goethe,\nBeethoven, to reconcile the soul to life, to give joy for heaviness, to\ndissipate fears, to transfigure care and toil, to convert lead into\ngold, and lift the veil that conceals the forms of hope, Grimm ascribes\nin the highest measure to Emerson.\n\n     \"As I read, all seems old and familiar as if it was my own\n     well-worn thought; all seems new as if it never occurred to me\n     before. I found myself depending on the book and was provoked with\n     myself for it. How could I be so captured and enthralled; so\n     fascinated and bewitched? The writer was but a man like any other;\n     yet, on taking up the volume again, the spell was renewed--I felt\n     the pure air; the old weather-beaten motives recovered their tone.\"\n\nTo him Emerson seemed to stand on the ground of simple fact, which he\naccepted in all sincerity.\n\n     \"He regards the world in its immediate aspect, with fresh vision;\n     the thing done or occurring before him opens the way to serene\n     heights. The living have precedence of the dead. Even the living of\n     to-day of the Greeks of yesterday, nobly as the latter thought,\n     moulded, chiselled, sang. For me was the breath of life, for me the\n     rapture of spring, for me love and desire, for me the secret of\n     wisdom and power.\"... \"Emerson fills me with courage and\n     confidence. He has read and observed, but he betrays no sign of\n     toil. He presents familiar facts, but he places them in new lights\n     and combinations. From every object the lines run straight out,\n     connecting it with the central point of life. What I had hardly\n     dared to think, it was so bold, he brings forth as quietly as if it\n     was the most familiar commonplace. He is a perfect swimmer on the\n     ocean of modern existence. He dreads no tempest, for he is sure\n     that calm will follow it; he does not hate, contradict, or dispute,\n     for he understands men and loves them. I look on with wonder to see\n     how the hurly-burly of modern life subsides, and the elements\n     gently betake themselves to their allotted places. Had I found but\n     a single passage in his writings that was an exception to this\n     rule, I should begin to suspect my judgment, and should say no\n     further word; but long acquaintance confirms my opinion. As I think\n     of this man, I have understood the devotion of pupils who would\n     share any fate with their master, because his genius banished doubt\n     and imparted life to all things.\"\n\nGrimm tells us that one day he found Emerson's Essays in the hands of a\nlady to whom he had recommended them without effect. She had made a\nthousand excuses; had declared herself quite satisfied with Goethe, who\nhad all that Emerson could possibly have, and a great deal more; had\nexpressed doubts whether, even if Emerson were all that his admirers\nrepresented, it was worth while to make a study of him. Besides, she had\nread in the book, and found only commonplace thoughts which had come to\nherself, and which she considered not of sufficient importance to\nexpress. So Emerson was neglected.\n\n     \"On this occasion she made him the subject of conversation. She had\n     felt that he was something remarkable. She had come upon sentences,\n     many times, that opened the darkest recesses of thought. I listened\n     quietly, but made no response. Not long afterwards she poured out\n     to me her astonished admiration in such earnest and impassioned\n     strain, that she made me feel as if I was the novice and she the\n     apostle.\"\n\nThis experience was repeated again and again, and Grimm had the\nsatisfaction of seeing the indifferent kindle, the adverse turn, the\nobjectors yield. The praise was not universal indeed; there were\nstubborn dissentients who did not confess the charm, and declared that\nthe enthusiasm was infatuation. Such remained unconverted. It was\ndiscovered that Emerson came to his own only, though his own were a\nlarge and increasing company.\n\nThe reasons of Grimm's admiration have been sufficiently indicated in\nthe above extracts. They are good reasons, but they are not the best.\nThey do not touch the deeper secret of power. That secret lies in the\nwriter's pure and perfect idealism, in his absolute and perpetual faith\nin thoughts, his supreme confidence in the spiritual laws. He lives in\nthe region of serene ideas; lives there all the day and all the year;\nnot visiting the mount of vision occasionally, but setting up his\ntabernacle there, and passing the night among the stars that he may be\nup and dressed for the eternal sunrise. To such a spirit there is no\nnight: \"the darkness shineth as the day; the darkness and the light are\nboth alike.\" There are no cloudy days. Tyndall's expression \"in his case\nPoetry, with the joy of a bacchanal, takes her graver brother science by\nthe hand, and cheers him with immortal laughter\"--is singularly\ninfelicitous in phrase, for it is as easy to associate night orgies with\nthe dawn as the bacchanalian spirit with Emerson, who never riots and\nnever laughs, but is radiant with a placid buoyancy that diffuses itself\nover his countenance and person. Mr. Emerson's characteristic trait is\nserenity. He is faithful to his own counsel, \"Shun the negative side.\nNever wrong people with your contritions, nor with dismal views of\npolitics or society. Never name sickness; even if you could trust\nyourself on that perilous topic, beware of unmuzzling a valetudinarian\nwho will soon give you your fill of it.\" He seems to be perpetually\nsaying \"Good Morning.\"\n\nThis is not wholly a result of philosophy; it is rather a gift of\nnature. He is the descendant of eight generations of Puritan\nclergymen,--the inheritor of their thoughtfulness and contemplation,\ntheir spirit of inward and outward communion. The dogmatism fell away;\nthe peaceful fruits of discipline remained, and flowered beautifully in\nhis richly favored spirit. An elder brother William, whom it was a\nprivilege to know, though lacking the genius of Waldo, was a natural\nidealist and wise saint. Charles, another brother, who died young and\ngreatly lamented had the saintliness and the genius both. The \"Dial\"\ncontained contributions from this young man, entitled \"Notes from the\nJournal of a Scholar\" that strongly suggest the genius of his eminent\nbrother; a few passages from them may be interesting as throwing light\non the secret of Emerson's inspiration.\n\n     \"This afternoon we read Shakspeare. The verse so sank into me, that\n     as I toiled my way home under the cloud of night, with the gusty\n     music of the storm around and overhead, I doubted that it was all\n     a remembered scene; that humanity was indeed one, a spirit\n     continually reproduced, accomplishing a vast orbit, whilst\n     individual men are but the points through which it passes.\n\n     We each of us furnish to the angel who stands in the sun, a single\n     observation. The reason why Homer is to me like dewy morning, is\n     because I too lived while Troy was, and sailed in the hollow ships\n     of the Grecians to sack the devoted town. The rosy-fingered dawn as\n     it crimsoned the tops of Ida, the broad sea shore covered with\n     tents, the Trojan hosts in their painted armor, and the rushing\n     chariots of Diomed and Idomeneus,--all these I too saw: my ghost\n     animated the frame of some nameless Argive; and Shakspeare, in King\n     John, does but recall to me myself in the dress of another age, the\n     sport of new accidents. I who am Charles, was sometime Romeo. In\n     Hamlet I pondered and doubted. We forget what we have been, drugged\n     by the sleepy bowl of the Present. But when a lively chord in the\n     soul is struck, when the windows for a moment are unbarred, the\n     long and varied past is recovered. We recognize it all; we are no\n     more brief, ignoble creatures; we seize our immortality and bind\n     together the related parts of our secular being.\"\n\nFrom the second record of thoughts a passage may be taken, so precisely\nlike paragraphs in the essays that they might have proceeded from the\nsame mind:\n\n     \"Let us not vail our bonnets to circumstance. If we act so, because\n     we are so; if we sin from strong bias of temper and constitution,\n     at least we have in ourselves the measure and the curb of our\n     aberration. But if they who are around us sway us; if we think\n     ourselves incapable of resisting the cords by which fathers and\n     mothers and a host of unsuitable expectations and duties, falsely\n     so called, seek to bind us,--into what helpless discord shall we\n     not fall.\"\n\n     \"I hate whatever is imitative in states of mind as well as in\n     action. The moment I say to myself, 'I ought to feel thus and so,'\n     life loses its sweetness, the soul her vigor and truth. I can only\n     recover my genuine self by stopping short, refraining from every\n     effort to shape my thought after a form, and giving it boundless\n     freedom and horizon. Then, after oscillation more or less\n     protracted, as the mind has been more or less forcibly pushed from\n     its place, I fall again into my orbit and recognize myself, and\n     find with gratitude that something there is in the spirit which\n     changes not, neither is weary, but ever returns into itself, and\n     partakes of the eternity of God.\"\n\nIdealism is native to this temperament, the proper expression of its\nfeeling. Emerson was preordained an idealist; he is one of the eternal\nmen, bearing about him the atmosphere of immortal youth. He is now\nseventy-three years old, having been born in Boston May 25th, 1803; but\nhis last volume, \"Letters and Social Aims,\" shows the freshness of his\nfirst essays. The opening chapter, \"Poetry and Imagination,\" has the\nemphasis and soaring confidence of undimmed years; and the closing one,\n\"Immortality,\" sustains an unwearied flight among the agitations of this\nmost hotly-debated of beliefs. The address before the Phi Beta Kappa\nSociety at Cambridge, in 1867, equals in moral grandeur and earnestness\nof appeal, in faithfulness to ideas and trust in principles, the\naddresses that made so famous the prime of his career. There is\nabsolutely no abatement of heart or hope; if anything, the tone is\nricher and more assured than ever it was. During the season of his\npopularity as a lyceum lecturer, the necessity of making his discourse\nattractive and entertaining, brought into the foreground the play of his\nwit, and forced the graver qualities of his mind into partial\nconcealment; but in later years, in the solitude of his study, the\nundertone of high purpose is heard again, in solemn reverberations,\nreminding us that the unseen realities are present still; that no\nopening into the eternal has ever been closed.\n\n     \"Shall we study the mathematics of the sphere,\" he says to the\n     Cambridge scholars, \"and not its causal essence also? Nature is a\n     fable, whose moral blazes through it. There is no use in\n     Copernicus, if the robust periodicity of the solar system does not\n     show its equal perfection in the mental sphere--the periodicity,\n     the compensating errors, the grand reactions. I shall never believe\n     that centrifugence and centripetence balance, unless mind heats and\n     meliorates, as well as the surface and soil of the globe.\"\n\n     \"On this power, this all-dissolving unity, the emphasis of heaven\n     and earth is laid. Nature is brute, but as this soul quickens it;\n     nature always the effect, mind the flowing cause. Mind carries the\n     law; history is the slow and atomic unfolding.\"\n\n     \"All vigor is contagious, and when we see creation, we also begin\n     to create. Depth of character, height of genius, can only find\n     nourishment in this soil. The miracles of genius always rest on\n     profound convictions which refuse to be analyzed. Enthusiasm is the\n     leaping lightning, not to be measured by the horse-power of the\n     understanding. Hope never spreads her golden wings but on\n     unfathomable seas.\"\n\n     \"We wish to put the ideal rules into practice, to offer liberty\n     instead of chains, and see whether liberty will not disclose its\n     proper checks; believing that a free press will prove safer than\n     the censorship; to ordain free trade, and believe that it will not\n     bankrupt us; universal suffrage, believing that it will not carry\n     us to mobs or back to kings again.\"\n\n     \"Every inch of the mountains is scarred by unimaginable\n     convulsions, yet the new day is purple with the bloom of youth and\n     love. Look out into the July night, and see the broad belt of\n     silver flame which flashes up the half of heaven, fresh and\n     delicate as the bonfires of the meadow flies. Yet the powers of\n     numbers cannot compute its enormous age--lasting as time and\n     space--embosomed in time and space. And time and space, what are\n     they? Our first problems, which we ponder all our lives through,\n     and leave where we found them; whose outrunning immensity, the old\n     Greeks believed, astonished the gods themselves; of whose dizzy\n     vastitudes, all the worlds of God are a mere dot on the margin;\n     impossible to deny, impossible to believe. Yet the moral element in\n     man counterpoises this dismaying immensity and bereaves it of\n     terror.\"\n\nEmerson has been called the prince of Transcendentalists. It is nearer\nthe truth to call him the prince of idealists. A Transcendentalist, in\nthe technical sense of the term, it cannot be clearly affirmed that he\nwas. Certainly he cannot be reckoned a disciple of Kant, or Jacobi, or\nFichte, or Schelling. He calls no man master; he receives no teaching on\nauthority. It is not certain that he ever made a study of the\nTranscendental philosophy in the works of its chief exposition. In his\nlecture on \"The Transcendentalist,\" delivered in 1842, he conveys the\nimpression that it is idealism--active and protesting--an excited\nreaction against formalism, tradition, and conventionalism in every\nsphere. As such, he describes it with great vividness and beauty. But as\nsuch merely, it was not apprehended by metaphysicians like James Walker,\ntheologians like Parker or preachers like William Henry Channing.\n\nEmerson does not claim for the soul a special faculty, like faith or\nintuition, by which truths of the spiritual order are perceived, as\nobjects are perceived by the senses. He contends for no doctrines,\nwhether of God or the hereafter, or the moral law, on the credit of such\ninterior revelation. He neither dogmatizes nor defines. On the contrary,\nhis chief anxiety seems to be to avoid committing himself to opinions;\nto keep all questions open; to close no avenue in any direction to the\nfree ingress and egress of the mind. He gives no description of God that\nwill class him as theist or pantheist; no definition of immortality that\njustifies his readers in imputing to him any form of the popular belief\nin regard to it. Does he believe in personal immortality? It is\nimpertinent to ask. He will not be questioned; not because he doubts,\nbut because his beliefs are so rich, various and many-sided, that he is\nunwilling, by laying emphasis on any one, to do an apparent injustice to\nothers. He will be held to no definitions; he will be reduced to no\nfinal statements. The mind must have free range. Critics complain of the\ntantalizing fragmentariness of his writing; it is evidence of the\nshyness and modesty of his mind. He dwells in principles, and will not\nbe cabined in beliefs. He needs the full expanse of the Eternal Reason.\nIn the chapter on Worship--\"Conduct of Life,\" p. 288, he writes thus:\n\n     \"Of immortality, the soul, when well employed, is incurious; it is\n     so well, that it is sure it will be well; it asks no questions of\n     the Supreme Power; 'tis a higher thing to confide, that if it is\n     best we should live, we shall live--it is higher to have this\n     conviction than to have the lease of indefinite centuries, and\n     millenniums and aeons. Higher than the question of our duration, is\n     the question of our deserving. Immortality will come to such as are\n     fit for it, and he who would be a great soul in future, must be a\n     great soul now. It is a doctrine too great to rest on any legend,\n     that is, on any man's experience but our own. It must be proved, if\n     at all, from our own activity and designs, which imply an\n     interminable future for their play.\"\n\nThe discourse on Immortality, which closes the volume, \"Letters and\nSocial Aims,\" moves on with steady power, towards the conclusion of\nbelief. Emerson really seems about to commit himself; he argues and\naffirms, with extraordinary positiveness. Of skepticism, on the subject,\nhe says:\n\n     \"I admit that you shall find a good deal of skepticism in the\n     streets and hotels, and places of coarse amusement. But that is\n     only to say that the practical faculties are faster developed than\n     the spiritual. Where there is depravity there is a slaughter-house\n     style of thinking. One argument of future life is the recoil of the\n     mind in such company--our pain at every skeptical statement.\"\n\nHis enumeration of \"the few simple elements of the natural faith,\" is as\nclear and cogent as was ever made. He urges the delight in permanence\nand stability, in immense spaces and reaches of time. \"Every thing is\nprospective, and man is to live hereafter.\" He urges that:\n\n     \"The implanting of a desire indicates that the gratification of\n     that desire is in the constitution of the creature that feels it;\n     the wish for food; the wish for motion; the wish for sleep, for\n     society, for knowledge, are not random whims, but grounded in the\n     structure of the creature, and meant to be satisfied by food; by\n     motion; by sleep; by society; by knowledge. If there is the desire\n     to live, and in larger sphere, with more knowledge and power, it is\n     because life and knowledge and power are good for us, and we are\n     the natural depositaries of these gifts.\"\n\nHe ranks as a hint of endless being the novelty which perpetually\nattends life:\n\n     \"The soul does not age with the body.\" \"Every really able man, in\n     whatever direction he work--a man of large affairs--an inventor, a\n     statesman, an orator, a poet, a painter--if you talk sincerely with\n     him, considers his work, however much admired, as far short of what\n     it should be. What is this 'Better,' this flying ideal but the\n     perpetual promise of his Creator?\"\n\nThe prophecy of the intellect is enunciated in stirring tones:\n\n     \"All our intellectual action, not promises but bestows a feeling of\n     absolute existence. We are taken out of time, and breathe a purer\n     air. I know not whence we draw the assurance of prolonged life: of\n     a life which shoots that gulf we call death, and takes hold of what\n     is real and abiding, by so many claims as from our intellectual\n     history.\" \"As soon as thought is exercised, this belief is\n     inevitable; as soon as virtue glows, this belief confirms itself.\n     It is a kind of summary or completion of man.\"\n\nThis reads very much like encouragement to the popular persuasion, yet\nit comes far short of it; indeed, does not, at any point touch it. The\nimmortality is claimed for the moral and spiritual by whom thought is\nexercised, in whom virtue glows--for none beside--and for these, the\nindividual conscious existence is not asserted. In the midst of the high\nargument occur sentences like these:\n\n     \"I confess that everything connected with our personality fails.\n     Nature never spares the individual. We are always balked of a\n     complete success. No prosperity is promised to _that_. We have our\n     indemnity only in the success of that to which we belong. _That_ is\n     immortal, and we only through that.\" \"Future state is an illusion\n     for the ever present state. It is not length of life, but depth of\n     life. It is not duration, but a taking of the soul out of time, as\n     all high action of the mind does; when we are living in the\n     sentiments we ask no questions about time. The spiritual world\n     takes place--that which is always the same.\"\n\nGoethe is quoted to the same purpose:\n\n     \"It is to a thinking being quite impossible to think himself\n     non-existent, ceasing to think and live; so far does every one\n     carry in himself the proof of immortality, and quite spontaneously.\n     But so soon as the man will be objective and go out of himself, so\n     soon as he dogmatically will grasp a personal duration to bolster\n     up in cockney fashion that inward assurance, he is lost in\n     contradiction.\"\n\nIt is thought worth while to dwell so long on this point, because it\nfurnishes a perfect illustration of Emerson's intellectual attitude\ntowards beliefs, its entire sincerity, disinterestedness and modesty.\nThe serenity of his faith makes it impossible for him to be a\ncontroversialist. He never gave a sweeter or more convincing proof of\nthis than in the sermon he preached on the Communion Supper, which\nterminated his connection with his Boston parish, and with it his\nrelations to the Christian ministry, after a short service of less than\nfour years. The rite in question was held sacred by his sect, as a\npersonal memorial of Jesus perpetuated according to his own request. To\nneglect it was still regarded as a reproach; to dispute its authority\nwas considered contumacious; to declare it obsolete and useless, an\nimpediment to spiritual progress, a hindrance to Christian growth, was\nto excite violent animosities, and call down angry rebuke. Yet this is\nwhat Mr. Emerson deliberately did. That the question of retaining a\nminister who declined to bless and distribute the bread and wine, was\ndebated at all, was proof of the extraordinary hold he had on his\npeople. Through the crisis he remained unruffled, calm and gracious as\nin the sunniest days. On the evening when the church were considering\nhis final proposition, with such result as he clearly foresaw, he sat\nwith a brother clergyman talking pleasantly on literature and general\ntopics, never letting fall a hint of the impending judgment, until, as\nhe rose to leave, he said gently, \"this is probably the last time we\nshall meet as brethren in the same calling,\" added a few words in\nexplanation of the remark, and passed into the street.\n\nThe sermon alluded to was a model of lucid, orderly and simple\nstatement, so plain that the young men and women of the congregation\ncould understand it; so deep and elevated that experienced believers\nwere fed; learned enough, without a taint of pedantry; bold, without a\nsuggestion of audacity; reasonable, without critical sharpness or\naffectation of mental superiority; rising into natural eloquence in\npassages that contained pure thought, but for the most part flowing in\nunartificial sentences that exactly expressed the speaker's meaning and\nno more. By Mr. Emerson's kind permission, the discourse is printed in\nthe last chapter of this volume. The farewell letter to the parish is\nalso printed here.\n\n\n     BOSTON, 22d December, 1832.\n\n     _To the Second Church and Society_:\n\n     CHRISTIAN FRIENDS:--Since the formal resignation of my official\n     relation to you in my communication to the proprietors in\n     September, I had waited anxiously for an opportunity of addressing\n     you once more from the pulpit, though it were only to say, let us\n     part in peace and in the love of God. The state of my health has\n     prevented, and continues to prevent me from so doing. I am now\n     advised to seek the benefit of a sea voyage. I cannot go away\n     without a brief parting word to friends who have shown me so much\n     kindness, and to whom I have felt myself so dearly bound.\n\n     Our connection has been very short; I had only begun my work. It is\n     now brought to a sudden close; and I look back, I own, with a\n     painful sense of weakness, to the little service I have been able\n     to render, after so much expectation on my part,--to the checkered\n     space of time, which domestic affliction and personal infirmities\n     have made yet shorter and more unprofitable.\n\n     As long as he remains in the same place, every man flatters\n     himself, however keen may be his sense of his failures and\n     unworthiness, that he shall yet accomplish much; that the future\n     shall make amends for the past; that his very errors shall prove\n     his instructors,--and what limit is there to hope? But a separation\n     from our place, the close of a particular career of duty, shuts the\n     book, bereaves us of this hope, and leaves us only to lament how\n     little has been done.\n\n     Yet, my friends, our faith in the great truths of the New Testament\n     makes the change of places and circumstances of less account to us,\n     by fixing our attention upon that which is unalterable. I find\n     great consolation in the thought that the resignation of my present\n     relations makes so little change to myself. I am no longer your\n     minister, but am not the less engaged, I hope, to the love and\n     service of the same eternal cause, the advancement, namely, of the\n     Kingdom of God in the hearts of men. The tie that binds each of us\n     to that cause is not created by our connexion, and cannot be hurt\n     by our separation. To me, as one disciple, is the ministry of\n     truth, as far as I can discern and declare it, committed; and I\n     desire to live nowhere and no longer than that grace of God is\n     imparted to me--the liberty to seek and the liberty to utter it.\n\n     And, more than this, I rejoice to believe that my ceasing to\n     exercise the pastoral office among you does not make any real\n     change in our spiritual relation to each other. Whatever is most\n     desirable and excellent therein, remains to us. For, truly\n     speaking, whoever provokes me to a good act or thought, has given\n     me a pledge of his fidelity to virtue,--he has come under bonds to\n     adhere to that cause to which we are jointly attached. And so I say\n     to all you who have been my counsellors and cooperators in our\n     Christian walk, that I am wont to see in your faces the seals and\n     certificates of our mutual obligations. If we have conspired from\n     week to week in the sympathy and expression of devout sentiments;\n     if we have received together the unspeakable gift of God's truth;\n     if we have studied together the sense of any divine word; or\n     striven together in any charity; or conferred together for the\n     relief or instruction of any brother; if together we have laid down\n     the dead in a pious hope; or held up the babe into the baptism of\n     Christianity; above all, if we have shared in any habitual\n     acknowledgment of that benignant God, whose omnipresence raises and\n     glorifies the meanest offices and the lowest ability, and opens\n     heaven in every heart that worships him,--then indeed are we\n     united, we are mutually debtors to each other of faith and hope,\n     engaged to persist and confirm each other's hearts in obedience to\n     the Gospel. We shall not feel that the nominal changes and little\n     separations of this world can release us from the strong cordage of\n     this spiritual bond. And I entreat you to consider how truly\n     blessed will have been our connexion, if in this manner, the memory\n     of it shall serve to bind each one of us more strictly to the\n     practice of our several duties.\n\n     It remains to thank you for the goodness you have uniformly\n     extended towards me, for your forgiveness of many defects, and your\n     patient and even partial acceptance of every endeavor to serve you;\n     for the liberal provision you have ever made for my maintenance;\n     and for a thousand acts of kindness which have comforted and\n     assisted me.\n\n     To the proprietors I owe a particular acknowledgment, for their\n     recent generous vote for the continuance of my salary, and hereby\n     ask their leave to relinquish this emolument at the end of the\n     present month.\n\n     And now, brethren and friends, having returned into your hands the\n     trust you have honored me with,--the charge of public and private\n     instruction in this religious society--I pray God, that, whatever\n     seed of truth and virtue we have sown and watered together, may\n     bear fruit unto eternal life. I commend you to the Divine\n     Providence. May He grant you, in your ancient sanctuary the service\n     of able and faithful teachers. May He multiply to your families and\n     to your persons, every genuine blessing; and whatever discipline\n     may be appointed to you in this world, may the blessed hope of the\n     resurrection, which He has planted in the constitution of the human\n     soul, and confirmed and manifested by Jesus Christ, be made good\n     to you beyond the grave. In this faith and hope I bid you farewell.\n\n     Your affectionate servant,\n\n     RALPH WALDO EMERSON.\n\n\nMr. Emerson's place is among poetic, not among philosophic minds. He\nbelongs to the order of imaginative men. The imagination is his organ.\nHis reading, which is very extensive in range, has covered this\ndepartment more completely than any. He is at home with the seers,\nSwedenborg, Plotinus, Plato, the books of the Hindus, the Greek\nmythology, Plutarch, Chaucer, Shakspeare, Henry More, Hafiz; the books\ncalled sacred by the religious world; \"books of natural science,\nespecially those written by the ancients,--geography, botany,\nagriculture, explorations of the sea, of meteors, of astronomy;\" he\nrecommends \"the deep books.\" Montaigne has been a favorite author on\naccount of his sincerity. He thinks Hindu books the best gymnastics for\nthe mind.\n\nHis estimate of the function of the poetic faculty is given in his\nlatest volume.\n\n     \"Poetry is the perpetual endeavor to express the spirit of the\n     thing; to pass the brute body, and search the life and reason which\n     causes it to exist; to see that the object is always flowing away,\n     whilst the spirit or necessity which causes it subsists.\" \"The poet\n     contemplates the central identity; sees it undulate and roll this\n     way and that, with divine flowings, through remotest things; and\n     following it, can detect essential resemblances in natures never\n     before compared.\" \"Poetry is faith. To the poet the world is virgin\n     soil; all is practicable; the men are ready for virtue; it is\n     always time to do right. He is the true recommencer, or Adam in the\n     garden again.\" \"He is the healthy, the wise, the fundamental, the\n     manly man, seer of the secret; against all the appearance, he sees\n     and reports the truth, namely, that the soul generates matter. And\n     poetry is the only verity, the expression of a sound mind, speaking\n     after the ideal, not after the apparent.\" \"Whilst common sense\n     looks at things or visible nature as real and final facts, poetry,\n     or the imagination which dictates it, is a second sight, looking\n     through these and using them as types or words for thoughts which\n     they signify.\"\n\nBy the poet, Emerson is careful to say that he means the potential or\nideal man, not found now in any one person.\n\nThe upshot of it all is that soul is supreme. Not _the_ soul, as if that\nterm designated a constituent part of each man's nature.\n\n     \"All goes to show that the soul is not an organ, but animates and\n     exercises all the organs; is not a function, like the power of\n     memory, of calculation, of comparison, but uses these as hands and\n     feet; is not a faculty, but a light; is not the intellect or the\n     will, but the master of the intellect and the will; is the\n     background of our being, in which they lie--an immensity not\n     possessed, and that cannot be possessed. From within or from\n     behind, a light shines through us upon things, and makes us aware\n     that we are nothing, but the light is all. A man is the facade of a\n     temple, wherein all wisdom and all good abide.\"\n\nWe stand now at the centre of Emerson's philosophy. His thoughts are few\nand pregnant; capable of infinite expansion, illustration and\napplication. They crop out on almost every page of his characteristic\nwritings; are iterated and reiterated in every form of speech; and put\ninto gems of expression that may be worn on any part of the person. His\nprose and his poetry are aglow with them. They make his essays oracular,\nand his verse prophetic. By virtue of them his best books belong to the\nsacred literature of the race; by virtue of them, but for the lack of\nartistic finish of rhythm and rhyme, he would be the chief of American\npoets.\n\nThe first article in Mr. Emerson's faith is the primacy of Mind. That\nMind is supreme, eternal, absolute, one, manifold, subtle, living,\nimmanent in all things, permanent, flowing, self-manifesting; that the\nuniverse is the result of mind, that nature is the symbol of mind; that\nfinite minds live and act through concurrence with infinite mind. This\nidea recurs with such frequency that, but for Emerson's wealth of\nobservation, reading, wit, mental variety and buoyancy, his talent for\nillustration, gift at describing details, it would weary the reader. As\nit is, we delight to follow the guide through the labyrinth of his\nexpositions, and gaze on the wonderful phantasmagoria that he exhibits.\n\nHis second article is the connection of the individual intellect with\nthe primal mind, and its ability to draw thence wisdom, will, virtue,\nprudence, heroism, all active and passive qualities. This belief, as\nbeing the more practical, has even more exuberant expression than the\nother:\n\n     \"The relations of the soul to the divine spirit are so pure that it\n     is profane to seek to interpose helps. Whenever a mind is simple,\n     and receives a divine wisdom, all things pass away--means,\n     teachers, texts, temples fall; it lives now, and absorbs past and\n     future into the present hour.\"\n\n     \"Let man learn the revelation of all nature and all thought to his\n     heart; this, namely: that the highest dwells with him; that the\n     sources of nature are in his own mind, if the sentiment of duty is\n     there.\"\n\n     \"Ineffable is the union of man and God in every act of the soul;\n     the simplest person who, in his integrity, worships God, becomes\n     God; yet for ever and ever the influx of this better and universal\n     self is new and unsearchable.\"\n\n     \"We are wiser than we know. If we will not interfere with our\n     thought, but will act entirely, or see how the thing stands in God,\n     we know the particular thing, and every thing, and every man. For\n     the Maker of all things and all persons stands behind us, and casts\n     His dread omniscience through us over things.\"\n\n     \"The only mode of obtaining an answer to the questions of the\n     senses, is to forego all low curiosity, and, accepting the tide of\n     being which floats us into the secret of nature, work and live,\n     work and live, and all unawares the advancing soul has built and\n     forged for itself a new condition, and the question and the answer\n     are one.\"\n\n     \"We are all discerners of spirits. That diagnosis lies aloft in our\n     life or unconscious power.\"\n\n     \"We live in succession, in division, in parts, in particles.\n     Meantime, within man is the soul of the whole; the wise silence;\n     the universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally\n     related; the eternal ONE. And this deep power in which we exist,\n     and whose beatitude is all accessible to us, is not only\n     self-sufficing and perfect in every hour, but the act of seeing and\n     the thing seen, the seer and the spectacle, the subject and the\n     object, are one.\"\n\n    \"All the forms are fugitive,\n     But the substances survive;\n     Ever fresh the broad creation--\n     A divine improvisation,\n     From the heart of God proceeds,\n     A single will, a million deeds.\n     Once slept the world an egg of stone,\n     And pulse and sound, and light was none;\n     And God said 'Throb,' and there was motion,\n     And the vast mass became vast ocean.\n     Onward and on, the eternal Pan,\n     Who layeth the world's incessant plan,\n     Halteth never in one shape,\n     But forever doth escape,\n     Like wave or flame, into new forms\n     Of gem and air, of plants and worms.\n     I that to-day am a pine,\n     Yesterday was a bundle of grass.\n     He is free and libertine,\n     Pouring of his power, the wine\n     To every age--to every race;\n     Unto every race and age\n     He emptieth the beverage;\n     Unto each and unto all--\n     Maker and original.\n     The world is the ring of his spells,\n     And the play of his miracles.\n     As he giveth to all to drink,\n     Thus or thus they are, and think.\n     He giveth little, or giveth much,\n     To make them several, or such.\n     With one drop sheds form and feature;\n     With the second a special nature;\n     The third adds heat's indulgent spark;\n     The fourth gives light, which eats the dark;\n     In the fifth drop himself he flings,\n     And conscious Law is King of kings.\n     Pleaseth him, the Eternal Child\n     To play his sweet will--glad and wild.\n     As the bee through the garden ranges,\n     From world to world the godhead changes;\n     As the sheep go feeding in the waste,\n     From form to form he maketh haste.\n     This vault, which glows immense with light,\n     Is the inn, where he lodges for a night.\n     What recks such Traveller, if the bowers\n     Which bloom and fade, like meadow flowers--\n     A bunch of fragrant lilies be,\n     Or the stars of eternity?\n     Alike to him, the better, the worse--\n     The glowing angel, the outcast corse.\n     Thou meetest him by centuries,\n     And lo! he passes like the breeze;\n     Thou seek'st in globe and galaxy,\n     He hides in pure transparency;\n     Thou askest in fountains, and in fires,\n     He is the essence that inquires.\n     He is the axis of the star;\n     He is the sparkle of the spar;\n     He is the heart of every creature;\n     He is the meaning of each feature;\n     And his mind is the sky,\n     Than all it holds, more deep, more high.\"\n\nMr. Emerson is never concerned to defend himself against the charge of\npantheism, or the warning to beware lest he unsettle the foundations of\nmorality, annihilate the freedom of the will, abolish the distinction\nbetween right and wrong, and reduce personality to a mask. He makes no\napology; he never explains; he trusts to affirmation, pure and simple.\nBy dint of affirming all the facts that appear, he makes his\ncontribution to the problem of solving all, and by laying incessant\nemphasis on the cardinal virtues of humility, fidelity, sincerity,\nobedience, aspiration, simple acquiescence in the will of the supreme\npower, he not only guards himself against vulgar misconception, but\nsustains the mind at an elevation that makes the highest hill-tops of\nthe accepted morality disappear in the dead level of the plain.\n\nThe primary thoughts of his philosophy, if such it may be termed,\nEmerson takes with him wherever he goes. Does he study history, history\nis the autobiography of the Eternal Mind. The key is in the sentence\nthat begins the Essay on History:\n\n     \"There is one mind common to all individual men. Every man is an\n     inlet to the same, and to all of the same. He that is once admitted\n     to the right of reason is made a freeman of the whole estate. What\n     Plato has thought, he may think; what a saint has felt, he may\n     feel; what at any time has befallen any man, he can understand. Who\n     hath access to this universal mind, is a party to all that is or\n     can be done, for that is the only and sovereign agent.\" \"This human\n     mind wrote history, and this must read it. The sphinx must solve\n     her own riddle. If the whole of history is in one man, it is all to\n     be explained from individual experience. There is a relation\n     between the hours of our life and the centuries of time. Of the\n     universal mind each individual man is one more incarnation. All its\n     properties consist in him. Each new fact in his private experience\n     flashes a light on what great bodies of men have done, and the\n     crises of his life refer to national crises.\" In the \"Progress of\n     Culture\" the same sentiment recurs.\n\n     \"What is the use of telegraphy? What of newspapers? To know in each\n     social crisis how men feel in Kansas, in California, the wise man\n     waits for no mails, reads no telegrams. He asks his own heart. If\n     they are made as he is, if they breathe the same air, eat of the\n     same wheat, have wives and children, he knows that their joy or\n     resentment rises to the same point as his own. The inviolate soul\n     is in perpetual telegraphic communication with the Source of\n     events, has earlier information, a private despatch, which relieves\n     him of the terror which presses on the rest of the community.\"\n\n     \"We are always coming up with the emphatic facts of history in our\n     private experience, and verifying them here. All history becomes\n     subjective; in other words, there is properly no history; only\n     biography. Every mind must know the whole lesson for itself,--must\n     go over the whole ground. What it does not see, what it does not\n     live, it does not know.\"\n\nIn the appreciation of scientific facts the same method avails. Tyndall\ncommends Emerson as \"a poet and a profoundly religious man, who is\nreally and entirely undaunted by the discoveries of science, past,\npresent, or prospective.\" The praise seems to imply some misconception\nof Emerson's position. Tyndall intimates that Emerson is undaunted where\nothers fear. But this is not so. No man deserves commendation for not\ndreading precisely what he desires. Emerson, by his principle, is\ndelivered from the alarm of the religious man who has a creed to defend,\nand from the defiance of the scientific man who has creeds to assail. To\nhim Nature is but the symbol of spirit; this the scientific men, by\ntheir discoveries, are continually proving. The faster they disclose\nfacts, and the more accurately, the more brilliantly do they illustrate\nthe lessons of the perfect wisdom. For the scientific _method_ he\nprofesses no deep respect; for the scientific _assumptions_ none\nwhatever. He begins at the opposite end. They start with matter, he\nstarts with mind. They feel their way up, he feels his way down. They\nobserve phenomena, he watches thoughts. They fancy themselves to be\ngradually pushing away as illusions the so-called entities of the soul;\nhe dwells serenely with those entities, rejoicing to see men paying\njubilant honor to what they mean to overturn. The facts they bring in,\nchemical, physiological, biological, Huxley's facts, Helmholtz's,\nDarwin's, Tyndall's, Spencer's, the ugly facts which the theologians\ndispute, he accepts with eager hands, and uses to demonstrate the force\nand harmony of the spiritual laws.\n\n     \"Science,\" he says, \"was false by being unpoetical. It assumed to\n     explain a reptile or mollusk, and isolated it,--which is hunting\n     for life in graveyards; reptile or mollusk, or man or angel, only\n     exists in system, in relation. The metaphysician, the poet, only\n     sees each animal form as an inevitable step in the path of the\n     creating mind.\" \"The savans are chatty and vain; but hold them hard\n     to principle and definition, and they become mute and near-sighted.\n     What is motion? What is beauty? What is matter? What is life? What\n     is force? Push them hard and they will not be loquacious. They will\n     come to Plato, Proclus and Swedenborg. The invisible and\n     imponderable is the sole fact.\" \"The atomic theory is only an\n     interior process _produced_, as geometers say, or the effect of a\n     foregone metaphysical theory. Swedenborg saw gravity to be only an\n     external of the irresistible attractions of affection and faith.\n     Mountains and oceans we think we understand. Yes, so long as they\n     are contented to be such, and are safe with the geologist; but when\n     they are melted in Promethean alembics and come out men; and then\n     melted again, come out woods, without any abatement, but with an\n     exaltation of power!\"\n\nEmerson is faithful in applying his principle to social institutions and\nlaws. His faith in ideal justice and love never blenches. In every\nemergency, political, civil, national, he has been true to his\nregenerating idea; true as a recreator from the inside, rather than as a\nreformer of the outside world. A profounder, more consistent, more\nuncompromising radical does not exist; a less heated, ruffled or anxious\none cannot be thought of. He scarcely ever suggested measures, rarely\njoined in public assemblies, did not feel at home among politicians or\nagitators. But his thought never swerved from the line of perfect\nrectitude, his sympathies were always human. His heart was in the\nanti-slavery movement from the beginning. He was abroad in its stormy\ndays, his steadfast bearing and cheerful countenance carrying hope\nwhenever he appeared. His name stood with that of his wife in the list\nof signers to the call for the first National Woman's Rights Convention,\nin 1850. The Massachusetts Historical Society, the American Society of\nArts and Sciences have honored themselves by electing him a member; the\nAlumni of Harvard University joyfully made him an overseer; he was\nproposed as rector of the University of Glasgow. Such confidence did the\ngreat idealist inspire, that he has been even called to the duty of\nExaminer at West Point Military Academy. His name is spoken in no\ncompany with other than respect, and his influence is felt in places\nwhere it is not acknowledged, and would be officially disavowed.\n\nMr. A. B. Alcott, a townsman of Mr. Emerson, and a close acquaintance,\nin his \"Concord Days\" says pleasant things of his friend, just and\ndiscerning things, as well as pleasant.\n\n     \"Consider,\" he says, \"how largely our letters have been enriched by\n     his contributions. Consider, too, the change his views have wrought\n     in our methods of thinking; how he has won over the bigot, the\n     unbeliever, at least to tolerance and moderation, if not\n     acknowledgment, by his circumspection and candor of statement.\" \"A\n     poet, speaking to individuals as few others can speak, and to\n     persons in their privileged moments, he is heard as none others\n     are. 'Tis every thing to have a true believer in the world, dealing\n     with men and matters as if they were divine in idea and real in\n     fact, meeting persons and events at a glance, directly, not at a\n     millionth remove, and so passing fair and fresh into life and\n     literature.\" \"His compositions affect us, not as logic linked in\n     syllogisms, but as voluntaries rather, as preludes, in which one is\n     not tied to any design of air, but may vary his key or not at\n     pleasure, as if improvised without any particular scope of\n     argument; each period, paragraph, being a perfect note in itself,\n     however it may chance chime with its accompaniments in the piece,\n     as a waltz of wandering stars, a dance of Hesperus with Orion.\"\n\nAfter this, one is surprised to hear Mr. Alcott say, \"I know of but one\nsubtraction from the pleasure the reading of his books--shall I say his\nconversation?--gives me; his pains to be impersonal or discreet, as if\nhe feared any the least intrusion of himself were an offence offered to\nself-respect, the courtesy due to intercourse and authorship.\" To others\nthis exquisite reserve, this delicate withdrawal behind his thought, has\nseemed not only one of Emerson's peculiar charms, but one of his most\nsubtle powers. Personal magnetism is very delightful for the moment. The\nexhibition of attractive personal traits is interesting in the lecture\nroom; sometimes in the parlor. The public, large or small, enjoy\nconfidences. But in an age of personalities, voluntary and involuntary,\nthe man who keeps his individual affairs in the background, tells\nnothing of his private history, holds in his own breast his petty\nconcerns and opinions, and lets thoughts flow through him, as light\nstreams through plate glass, is more than attractive--is noble, is\nvenerable. To his impersonality in his books and addresses, Emerson owes\nperhaps a large measure of his extraordinary influence. You may search\nhis volumes in vain for a trace of egotism. In the lecture room, he\nseems to be so completely under the spell of his idea, so wholly\nabstracted from his audience, that he is as one who waits for the\nthoughts to come, and drops them out one by one, in a species of\nsoliloquy or trance. He is a bodiless idea. When he speaks or writes,\nthe power is that of pure mind. The incidental, accidental, occasional,\ndoes not intrude. No abatement on the score of personal antipathy needs\nto be made. The thought is allowed to present and commend itself. Hence,\nwhen so many thoughts are forgotten, buried beneath affectation and\nverbiage, his gain in brilliancy and value as time goes on; and in an\nage of ephemeral literature his books find new readers, his mind exerts\nwider sway. That his philosophy can be recommended as a sound rule to\nlive by for ordinary practitioners may be questioned. It is better as\ninspiration than as prescription. For maxims it were wiser to go to\nBentham, Mill or Bain. The plodders had best keep to the beaten road.\nBut for them who need an atmosphere for wings, who require the impulse\nof great motives, the lift of upbearing aspirations--for the\nimaginative, the passionate, the susceptible, who can achieve nothing\nunless they attempt the impossible--Emerson is the master. A single\nthrill sent from his heart to ours is worth more to the heart that feels\nit, than all the schedules of motive the utilitarian can offer.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nTHE MYSTIC.\n\n\nIf among the representatives of spiritual philosophy the first place\nbelongs to Mr. Emerson, the second must be assigned to Mr. Amos Bronson\nAlcott,--older than Mr. Emerson by four years (he was born in 1779), a\ncontemporary in thought, a companion, for years a fellow townsman, and,\nif that were possible, more purely and exclusively a devotee of\nspiritual ideas. Mr. Alcott may justly be called a mystic--one of the\nvery small class of persons who accept without qualification, and\nconstantly teach the doctrine of the soul's primacy and pre-eminence. He\nis not a learned man, in the ordinary sense of the term; not a man of\nversatile mind or various tastes; not a man of general information in\nworldly or even literary affairs; not a man of extensive commerce with\nbooks. Though a reader, and a constant and faithful one, his reading has\nbeen limited to books of poetry--chiefly of the meditative and interior\nsort--and works of spiritual philosophy. Plato, Plotinus, Proclus,\nJamblichus, Pythagoras, Boehme, Swedenborg, Fludd, Pordage, Henry More,\nLaw, Crashaw, Selden, are the names oftener than any on his pages and\nlips. He early made acquaintance with Bunyan's \"Pilgrim's Progress,\"\nand never ceased to hold it exceedingly precious, at one period making\nit a rule to read the volume once a year. His books are his friends; his\nregard for them seems to be personal; he enjoys their society with the\nfeeling that he gives as well as receives. He loves them in part because\nthey love him; consequently, in all his quoting of them, his own mind\ncomes in as introducer and voucher as it were. His indebtedness to them\nis expressed with the cordiality of an intimate, rather than with the\ngratitude of a disciple. His own mind is so wakeful and thoughtful, so\nquick and ready to take the initiative, that it is hard to say in what\nrespect even his favorite and familiar authors have enriched him. What\nwas not originally his own, is so entirely made his own by sympathetic\nabsorption, that the contribution which others have made is not to be\ndistinguished from his native stores. Few men seem less dependent on\nliterature than he.\n\nMr. Alcott is a thinker, interior, solitary, deeply conversant with the\nsecrets of his own mind, like thinkers of his order, clear, earnest, but\nnot otherwise than monotonous from the reiteration of his primitive\nideas. We have called him a mystic. Bearing in mind the derivations of\nthe word--[Greek: myein]--to brood, to meditate, to shut one's self up\nin the recesses of consciousness, to sink into the depths of one's own\nbeing for the purpose of exploring the world which that being contains;\nof discovering how deep and boundless it is, of meeting in its retreats\nthe form of the Infinite Being who walks there in the evening, and makes\nhis voice audible in the mysterious whispers that breathe over its\nplains,--it well describes him. He is a philosopher of that school;\ninstead of seeking wisdom by intellectual processes, using induction and\ndeduction, and creeping step by step towards his goal,--he appeals at\nonce to the testimony of consciousness, claims immediate insight, and\ninstead of hazarding a doctrine which he has argued, announces a truth\nwhich he has seen; he studies the mystery of being in its inward\ndisclosures, contemplates ultimate laws and fundamental data in his own\nsoul.\n\nWhile Mr. Emerson's idealism was nourished--so far as it was supplied\nwith nourishment from foreign sources--by the genius of India, Mr.\nAlcott's was fed by the speculation of Greece. Kant was not his master,\nneither was Fichte nor Schelling, but Pythagoras rather; Pythagoras more\nthan Plato, with whom, notwithstanding his great admiration, he is less\nintimately allied. He talks about Plato, he talks Pythagoras. Of the\nlatter he says:\n\n     \"Of the great educators of antiquity, I esteem Pythagoras the most\n     eminent and successful; everything of his doctrine and discipline\n     comes commended by its elegance and humanity, and justifies the\n     name he bore of the golden-souled Samian, and founder of Greek\n     culture. He seems to have stood in providential nearness to human\n     sensibility, as if his were a maternal relation as well, and he\n     owned the minds whom he nurtured and educated. The first of\n     philosophers, taking the name for its modesty of pretension, he\n     justified his claim to it in the attainments and services of his\n     followers; his school having given us Socrates, Plato, Pericles,\n     Plutarch, Plotinus, and others of almost equal fame, founders of\n     states and cultures.... He was reverenced by the multitude as one\n     under the influence of divine inspiration. He abstained from all\n     intoxicating drinks, and from animal food, confining himself to a\n     chaste nutriment; hence his sleep was short and undisturbed; his\n     soul vigilant and pure; his body in state of perfect and invariable\n     health. He was free from the superstitions of his time, and\n     pervaded with a deep sense of duty towards God, and veneration for\n     his divine attributes and immanency in things. He fixed his mind so\n     intently on the attainment of wisdom, that systems and mysteries\n     inaccessible to others were opened to him by his magic genius and\n     sincerity of purpose. The great principle with which he started,\n     that of being a seeker rather than a possessor of truth, seemed\n     ever to urge him forward with a diligence and activity\n     unprecedented in the history of the past, and perhaps unequalled\n     since. He visited every man who could claim any degree of fame for\n     wisdom or learning; whilst the rules of antiquity and the simplest\n     operations of nature seemed to yield to his researches; and we\n     moderns are using his eyes in many departments of activity into\n     which pure thought enters, being indebted to him for important\n     discoveries alike in science and metaphysics.\"\n\nIt is evident that the New England sage made the Greek philosopher his\nmodel in other respects than the adoption of his philosophical method\nimplied. The rules of personal conduct and behavior, of social\nintercourse, and civil association, were studiously practised on by the\nAmerican disciple, who seemed never to forget the dignified and gracious\nfigure whose fame charmed him.\n\nMr. Alcott's philosophical ideas are not many, but they are profound and\nsignificant.\n\n     \"The Dialectic, or Method of the Mind,\"--he says in \"Concord Days,\"\n     under the head of Ideal Culture,--\"constitutes the basis of all\n     culture. Without a thorough discipline in this, our schools and\n     universities give but a showy and superficial training. The\n     knowledge of mind is the beginning of all knowledge; without this,\n     a theology is baseless, the knowledge of God impossible. Modern\n     education has not dealt with these deeper questions of life and\n     being. It has the future in which to prove its power of conducting\n     a cultus answering to the discipline of the Greek thinkers,\n     Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle.\"\n\n     \"As yet we deal with mind with far less certainty than with matter;\n     the realm of intellect having been less explored than the world of\n     the senses, and both are treated conjecturally rather than\n     absolutely. When we come to perceive that intuition is the primary\n     postulate of all intelligence, most questions now perplexing and\n     obscure will become transparent; the lower imperfect methods then\n     take rank where they belong, and are available. The soul leads the\n     senses; the reason the understanding; imagination the memory;\n     instinct and intuition include and prompt the Personality entire.\"\n\n     \"The categories of imagination are the poet's tools; those of the\n     reason, the implements of the naturalist. The dialectic philosopher\n     is master of them both. The tools to those only who can handle them\n     skilfully. All others but gash themselves and their subject at\n     best. Ask not a man of understanding to solve a problem in\n     metaphysics. He has neither wit, weight, nor scales for the task.\n     But a man of reason or of imagination solves readily the problems\n     of understanding, the moment these are fairly stated. Ideas are\n     solvents of all mysteries, whether in matter or in mind.\"\n\n     \"Having drank of immortality all night, the genius enters eagerly\n     upon the day's task, impatient of any impertinences jogging the\n     full glass.... Sleep and see; wake, and report the nocturnal\n     spectacle. Sleep, like travel, enriches, refreshes, by varying the\n     day's perspective, showing us the night side of the globe we\n     traverse day by day. We make transits too swift for our wakeful\n     senses to follow; pass from solar to lunar consciousness in a\n     twinkling; lapse from forehead and face to occupy our lower parts,\n     and recover, as far as permitted, the keys of genesis and of the\n     fore worlds. 'All truth,' says Porphyry, 'is latent;' but this the\n     soul sometimes beholds, when she is a little liberated by sleep\n     from the employments of the body, and sometimes she extends her\n     sight, but never perfectly reaches the objects of her vision.\"\n\n     \"The good alone dream divinely. Our dreams are characteristic of\n     our waking thoughts and states; we are never out of character;\n     never quite another, even when fancy seeks to metamorphose us\n     entirely. The Person is One in all the manifold phases of the Many,\n     through which we transmigrate, and we find ourself perpetually,\n     because we cannot lose ourself personally in the mazes of the many.\n     'Tis the one soul in manifold shapes. Ever the old friend of the\n     mirror in other face, old and new, yet one in endless revolution\n     and metamorphosis, suggesting a common relationship of forms at\n     their base, with divergent types as these range wider and farther\n     from their central archetype, including all concrete forms in\n     nature, each returning into other, and departing therefrom in\n     endless revolution.\"\n\n     \"What is the bad but lapse from good,--the good blindfolded?\"\n\n     \"One's foes are of his own household. If his house is haunted, it\n     is by himself only. Our choices are our Saviors or Satans.\"\n\n     \"The celestial man is composed more largely of light and ether. The\n     demoniac man of fire and vapor. The animal man of embers and\n     dust.\"\n\n     \"The sacraments, symbolically considered, are\n\n     Baptism, or purification by water;\n     Continence, or chastity in personal indulgences;\n     Fasting, or temperance in outward delights;\n     Prayer, or aspiring aims;\n     Labor, or prayer in act or pursuits.\n\n     These are the regimen of inspiration and thought.\"\n\nThe following, from the chapter entitled \"Genesis and Lapse,\" in\n\"Concord Days,\" extends Mr. Alcott's principle to a deep problem in\nspeculative truth. He quotes Coleridge thus:\n\n     \"The great maxim in legislation, intellectual or physical, is\n     _subordinate_, not _exclude_. Nature, in her ascent, leaves nothing\n     behind; but at each step subordinates and glorifies,--mass,\n     crystal, organ, sensation, sentience, reflection.\"\n\nThen he proceeds:\n\n     \"Taken in reverse order of descent, spirit puts itself before; at\n     each step protrudes faculty in feature, function, organ, limb,\n     subordinating to glorify also,--person, volition, thought,\n     sensibility, sense, body,--animating thus and rounding creation to\n     soul and sense alike. The naturalist cannot urge too strongly the\n     claims of physical, nor the plea of the idealist be too vigorously\n     pressed for metaphysical studies. One body in one soul. Nature and\n     spirit are inseparable, and are best studied as a unit. Nature ends\n     where spirit begins. The idealist's point of view is the obverse of\n     the naturalist's, and each must accost his side with a first love\n     before use has worn off the bloom, and seduced their vision....\n\n     \"Whether man be the successor or predecessor of his inferiors in\n     nature, is to be determined by exploring faithfully the realms of\n     matter and of spirit alike, and complementing the former in the\n     latter. Whether surveyed in order, descending or ascending, in\n     genesis or process, from the side of the idealist or of the\n     materialist, the keystone of the arch in either case is an ideal,\n     under-propped by nature or upheld by mind.\"\n\n     \"Man, the sum total of animals, transcends all in being a Person, a\n     responsible creature. Man is man, in virtue of being a Person, a\n     self-determining will, held accountable to a spiritual Ideal. To\n     affirm that brute creatures are endowed with freedom and choice,\n     the sense of responsibility, were to exalt them into a spiritual\n     existence and personality; whereas, it is plain enough that they\n     are not above deliberation and choice, but below it, under the sway\n     of Fate, as men are when running counter to reason and conscience.\n     The will bridges the chasm between man and brute, and frees the\n     fated creature he were else. Solitary, not himself, the victim of\n     appetite, inmate of the den, is man, till freed from individualism,\n     and delivered into his free Personality.\"\n\nThe next extract is from the Chapter on Ideals:\n\n     \"Enthusiasm is essential to the successful attainment of any high\n     endeavor; without which incentive, one is not sure of his equality\n     to the humblest undertakings even. And he attempts little worth\n     living for, if he expects completing his task in an ordinary\n     lifetime. This translation is for the continuance of his work here\n     begun; but for whose completion, time and opportunity were all too\n     narrow and brief. Himself is the success or failure. Step by step\n     one climbs the pinnacles of excellence; life itself is but the\n     stretch for that mountain of holiness. Opening here with humanity,\n     'tis the aiming at divinity in ever-ascending circles of aspiration\n     and endeavor. Who ceases to aspire, dies. Our pursuits are our\n     prayers, our ideals our gods.\"\n\nIn the journals of Theodore Parker, Mr. Alcott is represented as taking\nan active part in the thinking and talking of the period immediately\npreceding the establishment of the \"Dial,\" and as expressing audacious\nopinions; among others, this--which suggests Hegel, though it might have\nreached Mr. Alcott from a different quarter--that the Almighty\nprogressively unfolds himself towards His own perfection; and this, that\nthe hideous things in nature are reflections of man's animalism; that\nthe world being the product of all men, man is responsible for its evil\ncondition; a doctrine similar to the Augustinian doctrine of the Fall,\nhinted at also in the Book of Genesis. It was the doctrine of Jacob\nBoehme, one of Mr. Alcott's seers, that as the inevitable consequence of\nsin, the operation of the Seven Qualities in Lucifer's dominion became\nperverted and corrupted. The fiery principle, instead of creating the\nheavenly glory, produced wrath and torment. The astringent quality, that\nshould give stability and coherence, became hard and stubborn. The sweet\nwas changed to bitter; the bitter to raging fury. This earth--once a\nprovince of the heavenly world--was broken up into a chaos of wrath and\ndarkness, roaring with the din of conflicting elements. Eden became a\nwaste; its innocence departed, its friendly creatures began to bite and\ntear one another, and man became an exile and a bondsman to the elements\nhe once controlled.\n\nIn 1837 Mr. Alcott--not Mr. Emerson--was the reputed leader of the\nTranscendentalists, none being more active than he in diffusing the\nideas of the Spiritual Philosophy, and none being so uncompromising in\nhis interpretations of them. He was generally present at the meetings of\nthe informal Club which, under different names, held meetings at the\nprivate houses of members, from 1836 to 1850. Mr. Ripley had\nconsultations with him in regard to the proposed community which was\nlater established at Brook Farm. When Mr. Garrison founded the American\nAnti-Slavery Society, Mr. Alcott joined that cause, and was faithful to\nit till the end. With the movement for the emancipation and elevation of\nwomen, he was a sympathizer. He was one of the reformers who met at\nChardon Street Chapel, in 1840, to discuss plans of universal\nreform--Garrison, Edmund Quincy, Henry C. Wright, Theodore Parker,\nWilliam H. Channing, Christopher Greene, Maria Chapman and Abby Kelly\nbeing of the number. In those days he was intimate with Emerson, Ripley,\nHedge, Brownson, Clarke, Bartol, Stetson, and well known as a leader in\nspeculative thought. His period of Pythagorean discipline had already\nbegun. In 1835 he put away the use of animal food. Declining to join\neither the Brook Farm community, or that of Adin Ballou, at Milford, he\nundertook to do his part towards the solution of the \"labor and culture\nproblem,\" by supporting himself by manual labor in Concord, working\nduring the summer in field and garden, and in winter chopping wood in\nthe village woodlands, all the time keeping his mind intent on high\nthoughts. To conventional people he was an object of ridicule, not\nunmingled with contempt, as an improvident visionary. But Dr. Channing\nheld him in admiration.\n\n     \"Mr. Alcott,\" he wrote to a friend, \"little suspects how my heart\n     goes out to him. One of my dearest ideas and hopes is the union of\n     _labor_ and _culture_. I wish to see labor honored and united with\n     the free development of the intellect and heart. Mr. Alcott, hiring\n     himself out for day labor, and at the same time living in a region\n     of high thought, is perhaps the most interesting object in our\n     commonwealth. I do not care much for Orpheus, in \"The Dial,\" but\n     Orpheus at the plough is after my own heart. There he teaches a\n     grand lesson, more than most of us teach by the pen.\"\n\nThe Orpheus in \"The Dial\" perplexed others beside Dr. Channing, and\namused nearly all he perplexed--all whom he did not exasperate and\nenrage. The \"Orphic Sayings\"--Mr. Alcott's contribution to the\nmagazine--attracted the attention of the critics, who made them an\nexcuse for assailing with ridicule, the entire transcendental party.\n\"Identity halts in diversity.\" \"The poles of things are not integrated.\"\n\"Love globes, wisdom orbs, all things.\" \"Love is the Genius of Spirit.\"\n\"Alway are the divine Gemini intertwined,\"--the very school-boys\nrepeated these dark sayings, with a tone that consigned the \"Dial\" and\nits oracles to the insane asylum. Yet the thought was intelligible, and\neven simple. In ordinary prose it would have sounded like common-place.\nIt was the mystic phrase, and the perpetual reiteration of absolute\nprinciples that made the propositions seem obscure. The extracts from\nthese \"Sayings,\" given in a previous chapter, are remarkable for\ncrystalline clearness of conception, as well as of expression. The\nwriter's aim evidently was to deliver what he had to utter, in language\nof exact outline, and with the utmost economy of words. A singular\nsincerity characterized his mind and his life; he formed his beliefs on\nideal laws, and based his conduct on them. In conduct and bearing, as in\nthought, he was a disciple of the philosopher of Samos. Fascinated by\nhis vision of an ideal society, and determined to commence with a scheme\nof his own, he resolutely began by withdrawing from civil society as\nconstituted, declined to pay the tax imposed by the authorities, and was\nlodged in Concord jail, where he would have stayed, had not his friend,\nSamuel Hoar, father of Judge Hoar, paid the tax for him, against his\nwish, and procured his immediate release. This was in 1843. The next\nspring found him inspecting lands suitable for a community. The next\nsummer saw him, with some English friends, domesticated on the \"Wyman\nFarm,\" at Harvard, a piece of ninety acres, bordering the Nashua river,\nwith an old house on it. \"Fruitlands\"--for so the community was\nnamed--did not justify its name. A single summer and autumn dissipated\nthe hopes planted there, and with them the faith that the world could be\nrefashioned by artificial arrangements of circumstances.\n\nThe surprising thing was, that such a man should ever have fallen into\nthe notion that it could; he was an idealist; his faith was in the\nsoul--not in organization of any sort; he was a regenerator, not a\nreformer. All the good work he had done was of the regenerative kind,\nthrough an awakening of the spiritual powers of individuals. His mission\nwas to educate--to draw out souls, whether of children or adults. Faith\nin the soul was his inspiration and his guide. He early accepted the\noffice of teacher, made it the calling of his life, and in the exercise\nof it, kept in mind this faith in the soul as the highest of\nqualifications. To understand his enthusiasm, it is only necessary to\napprehend his idea. In the chapter on Childhood, in \"Concord Days,\" that\nidea is thus conveyed:\n\n     \"To conceive a child's acquirements as originating in nature,\n     dating from his birth into his body, seems an atheism that only a\n     shallow metaphysical theology could entertain in a time of such\n     marvellous natural knowledge as ours. 'I shall never persuade\n     myself,' says Synesius, 'to believe my soul to be of like age with\n     my body.' And yet we are wont to date our birth, as that of the\n     babes we christen, from the body's advent, so duteously inscribed\n     in our family registers, as if time and space could chronicle the\n     periods of the immortal mind, and mark its longevity by our\n     chronometers. Only a God could inspire a child with the intimations\n     seen in its first pulse-plays; the sprightly attainments of a\n     single day's doings afford the liveliest proofs of an omniscient\n     Deity, revealing His attributes in the motions of the little\n     one!... Were the skill for touching its tender sensibilities,\n     calling forth its budding gifts, equal to the charms the child has\n     for us, what noble characters would graduate from our families--the\n     community receiving its members accomplished in the personal\n     graces, the state its patriots, the church its saints, all\n     glorifying the race.\"\n\nThe process of education was spiritual, therefore, to entice the\nindwelling deity forth by sympathy. The first experiment made with set\npurpose, with definite idea and calculated method, was tried in\nCheshire, Connecticut, in 1825. So original was it in design and\nexecution, and so remarkable in results, that the fame of it went\nabroad. Rev. Samuel J. May, minister in Brooklyn, Conn., a zealous\nfriend of common-school education, being, along with the school\ncommittee, convinced that the schools throughout the State needed\nimprovement, prepared a printed circular calling attention to the\nsubject, and propounding questions so framed as to draw out full and\nprecise information from every town. Among the letters received in\nanswer to the circular was one from Dr. Wm. A. Alcott, a \"philosopher\nand philanthropist,\" author of the \"House I Live In,\" and other books on\nphysical and moral training, calling particular attention to this\nremarkable school, kept on a very original plan, by his kinsman:\n\n     \"His account,\" says Mr. May, \"excited so much my curiosity to know\n     more of the American Pestalozzi, as he has since been called, that\n     I wrote immediately to Mr. A. B. Alcott, begging him to send me a\n     detailed statement of his principles and methods of teaching and of\n     training children. In due time came to me a full account of the\n     school of Cheshire, which revealed such a depth of insight into the\n     nature of man; such a true sympathy with children; such profound\n     appreciation of the work of education; and withal, so\n     philosophically arranged and exquisitely written, that I at once\n     felt assured the man must be a genius, and that I must know him\n     more intimately; so I wrote, inviting him urgently, to visit me. I\n     also sent the account of his school to Mr. William Russell, in\n     Boston, then editing the first Journal of Education ever published\n     in our country. Mr. Russell thought as highly of the article as I\n     did, and gave it to the public in his next October number.\"\n\n     \"Mr. Alcott accepted my invitation; he came and passed a week with\n     me before the close of the summer. I have never, but in one other\n     instance, been so immediately taken possession of by any man I have\n     ever met in life. He seemed to me like a born sage and saint. He\n     was radical in all matters of reform; went to the root of all\n     things, especially the subjects of education, mental and moral\n     culture. If his biography shall ever be written by one who can\n     appreciate him, and especially if his voluminous writings shall be\n     properly published, it will be known how unique he was in wisdom\n     and purity.\"\n\nThe chief peculiarity of the Cheshire School was the effort made there\nto rouse and elevate individual minds. Single desks were substituted for\nthe long forms in common use; blackboards were introduced, and slates\nwhich put the pupils on their mettle; a library was instituted of\ncarefully selected books, the reading whereof was diligently supervised\nand directed; hopes were appealed to instead of fears; gentleness took\nthe place of severity; the affections and moral sentiments were\naddressed, to give full action to the heart and conscience, the physical\nbeing replaced by the spiritual scourge; light gymnastic exercises were\nintroduced; evening entertainments gladdened the school room after\nworking hours; even the youngest scholars were encouraged to clear their\nminds by keeping diaries. In these and other ways, especially by the\nenthusiasm and dignity of the master, knowledge was made attractive, and\nthe teacher's office was made venerable.\n\nThe plan, albeit nearly the same with that practised by Pestalozzi in\nSwitzerland, was original with Mr. Alcott, the product of his peculiar\nphilosophical ideas. Had those ideas been less deep and lofty, the\nmethod might have commended itself to all as it did to Mr. May; but, had\nthey been less deep and lofty, it would not have been tried at all. A\nprofound faith in the soul suggested it, and certainly a profound faith\nwas required to sustain it. But faith in the soul was no more popular\nthen than it is now, implying, as it did, radical convictions on all\nsorts of questions, and familiar assumption of the truth of the\nopinions. Such a teacher is not permitted to be conventional. Mr. Alcott\nshowed himself the disciple of Pythagoras in that he was the worshipper\nof ideal truth and purity, the uncompromising servant of the spiritual\nlaws. When this was fairly understood, as it was in two years, the\nexperiment was terminated.\n\nThe idea, which made the teacher suspected by the school committee\nboards, was recognized and applauded by the finest spirits in New\nEngland, New York and Pennsylvania. The reformers hailed the reformer;\nthe spiritualists welcomed the spiritualist. In Hartford, Drs. Gallaudet\nand Barnard; in Boston, Dr. Channing and Mr. Garrison, the Mays,\nQuincys, Phillipses, and other families of character and courage; in\nPhiladelphia, Dr. Furness, Matthew Cary, Robert Vaux, and the radical\nFriends took him up. Mr. Emerson saluted him with high expectation, in\nthe words addressed by Burke to John Howard:\n\n     \"Your plan is original, and as full of genius as of humanity; so do\n     not let it sleep or stop a day.\"\n\nThe project of a school on the new plan was started in Boston; Margaret\nFuller, Elizabeth Peabody, Miss Hoar, Mrs. Nath'l Hawthorne being among\nthe most deeply interested. It was kept in the Masonic Temple during the\nyear 1834. The account of this experiment has been so fully given by\nMiss Peabody, the original scribe, in a volume entitled \"Record of a\nSchool,\" placed within easy reach by a Boston publisher, only two years\nago, and largely read, that to describe it here would be impertinent. In\nher new preface, Miss Peabody, who of late years has become an\nenthusiastic advocate of Froebel's method, which approaches the mind\nfrom the outside, while Mr. Alcott approaches it from the inside,\nfrankly declares that she has\n\n     \"Come to doubt the details of his method of procedure, and to\n     believe that Froebel's method of cultivating children through\n     artistic production in the childish sphere of affection and fancy\n     is a healthier and more effective way than self inspection, for at\n     least those years of a child's life before the age of seven.\"\n\nWhile thus honestly declaring her abandonment of Mr. Alcott's plan, she\naffirms her belief\n\n     \"That his school was a marked benefit to every child with whom he\n     came into communication....\"\n\n     \"What I witnessed in his school room threw for me a new light into\n     the profoundest mysteries that have been consecrated by the\n     Christian symbols; and the study of childhood made there I would\n     not exchange for anything else I have experienced in life.\"\n\nThe Boston school was made more closely conformable to the spiritual\nidea than any previous ones. The intellectual tone of the society he\nfrequented, the sympathy of his transcendental friends, the standing of\nhis pupils, the expectation of exacting lookers on, encouraged the\nphilosopher to give free rein to his theory. The principle of vicarious\npunishment--the innocent bearing pain for the guilty--the master for the\npupil--was adopted as likely to enlist the sentiment of honor and noble\nshame in the cause of good behavior. A portion of the time was set apart\nfor direct address by way of question and answer, to the higher\nfaculties of the scholars. Mr. Alcott gave a series of \"Conversations on\nthe Gospels,\" with most interesting and surprising results. These too\nwere reported, and are very suggestive and astonishing reading.\n\nBut even in Boston, the teacher's faith in the soul found an\nunresponsive public. The \"Conversations on the Gospels\" were furiously\nattacked in the newspapers. The conservative spirit was aroused; the\nsectarian feeling was shocked; and the school, which began with thirty\npupils, and rose to forty, fell away to ten; the receipts, which in the\nfirst year were $1,794, in the fourth (1837), were but $549, and at last\nonly $343. In April, 1839, the furniture, library and apparatus of the\nschool were sold to pay debts. The culture, refinement, liberality,\nphilosophic aspiration of Boston, led by such men as James Freeman\nClarke, Frederick H. Hedge, Chandler Robbins, George Russell, and by\nsuch women as Margaret Fuller, Miss Peabody, Miss Martineau, and the\nmothers of boys who have since done credit to their names, were not\nsufficient to protect the institution from failure, or the teacher from\ninsult and obloquy. Prejudice, and prejudice alone, defeated the scheme.\n\nBut the idea and the apostle survived. Miss Harriet Martineau, who knew\nMr. Alcott well in 1837, spoke of him on her return home to James\nPierrepont Greaves, an ardent English disciple of Pestalozzi. Mr.\nGreaves gave the name \"Alcott House,\" to a school near London, which he\nhad founded on the Pestalozzian method; he even meditated a visit to\nAmerica, for the express purpose of making the acquaintance of the New\nEngland sage, and would have done so but for illness, which terminated\nin death. A long letter from him to Mr. Alcott, was printed in the\n\"Dial\" of April, 1843, a portion whereof it is interesting to read,\nbecause it throws light on the cardinal ideas of this school of\nthinkers. Mr. Alcott's reply to the letter is not before us, but it was\nprobably, in the main, sympathetic. The letter is dated London, 16th\nDecember, 1837:\n\n     DEAR SIR,--Believing the Spirit has so far established its nature\n     in you, as to make you willing to co-operate with itself in Love\n     operations, I am induced, without apology, to address you as a\n     friend and companion in the hidden path of Love's most powerful\n     revelations. \"The Record of a School\" having fallen into my hands,\n     through Miss Harriet Martineau, I have perused it with deep\n     interest; and the object of my present address to you (occasioned\n     by this work) is to obtain a more intimate acquaintance with one,\n     in our Sister Land, who is so divinely and universally developed.\n     Permit me, therefore, dear sir, in simple affection, to put a few\n     questions to you, which, if answered, will give me possession of\n     that information respecting you and your work, which I think will\n     be useful to present and to future generations of men. Also a\n     mutual service may be rendered to ourselves, by assisting to evolve\n     our own being more completely, thereby making us more efficient\n     instruments for Love's use, in carrying forward the work which it\n     has begun within us. The Unity himself must have his divine purpose\n     to accomplish in and by us, or he would not have prepared us as far\n     as he has. I am, therefore, willing to withhold nothing, but to\n     receive and transmit all he is pleased to make me _be_, and thus,\n     at length, to become an harmonious being. This he can readily work\n     in the accomplishment of his primitive purposes. Should you think\n     that a personal intercourse of a few weeks would facilitate the\n     universal work, I would willingly undertake the voyage to America\n     for that purpose. There is so decided and general a similarity in\n     the sentiments and natures addressed in the account of your\n     teaching, that a contact of spirits so alike developed would, no\n     doubt, prove productive of still further development. Your school\n     appears to work deeper than any we have in England, and its inner\n     essential character interests me. If an American bookseller will\n     send over any of your books to his correspondents here, I shall be\n     happy to receive and pay for them.\n\n     In the year 1817 some strong interior visitations came over me,\n     which withdrew me from the world in a considerable degree, and I\n     was enabled to yield myself up to Love's own manner of acting,\n     regardless of all consequences. Soon after this time, I met with an\n     account of the Spirit's work in and by the late venerable\n     Pestalozzi, which so interested me that I proceeded at once to\n     visit him in Switzerland, and remained with him in holy fellowship\n     four years. After that I was working with considerable success\n     amongst the various students in that country, when the prejudices\n     of the self-made wise and powerful men became jealous of my\n     influence, and I was advised to return to England, which I did; and\n     have been working in various ways of usefulness ever since, from\n     the deep centre to the circumference; and am now engaged in writing\n     my conscientious experiences as well as I can represent them in\n     words, and in teaching all such as come within my sphere of action.\n     Receptive beings, however, have as yet been but limited, and those\n     who permanently _retain_, have been still less; yet, at present,\n     there appears a greater degree of awakening to the central\n     love-sensibility than before. I see many more symptoms of the\n     harvest-time approaching in this country. There is, at present, no\n     obvious appearance of the Love-seed beginning to germinate.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     The child has two orders of faculties which are to be educated,\n     essential and semi-essential; or in other words, roots and\n     branches.\n\n     Radical faculties belong to the interior world, and the branchial\n     to the exterior.\n\n     To _produce_ a central effect on the child, the radical faculties\n     must be first developed; to _represent_ this effect, the branchial\n     faculties must be developed.\n\n     The radical faculties belong entirely to Love; the branchial to\n     knowledge and industry.\n\n     It is imperative upon us to follow the determination of the radical\n     faculties, and to modify the branchial always in obedience to the\n     radical.\n\n     It is the child, or the Love-Spirit in the child, that we must\n     obey, and not suffer the Parents or any one else to divert us from\n     it.\n\n     Good is not to be determined by man's wishes, but Good must\n     originate and determine the wish.\n\n     The Preceptor must watch attentively for every new exhibition of\n     the child's radical faculties, and obey them as divine laws.\n\n     We must in every movement consider that it is the Infinite\n     perfecting the finite.\n\n     All that is unnecessary in the external must be kept from the\n     child.\n\n     The Preceptor's duty is, as far as possible, to remove every\n     hindrance out of the child's way.\n\n     The closer he keeps the child to the Spirit, the less it will want\n     of us, or anyone else.\n\n     The child has an inward, sacred, and unchangeable nature; which\n     nature is the Temple of Love. This nature only demands what it will\n     give, if properly attended to, viz.: Unfettered Liberty.\n\n     The Love Germs can alone germinate with Love. Light and Life are\n     but conditions of Love. Divine capacities are made by love alone.\n\n     Love education is primarily a passive one; and, secondarily, an\n     active one. To educate the radical faculties is altogether a new\n     idea with Teachers at present.\n\n     The parental end must be made much more prominent than it has been.\n\n     The conceptive powers want much more purification than the\n     perceptive; and it is only as we purify the conceptive that we\n     shall get the perceptive clear.\n\n     It is the essential conceptive powers that tinge all the\n     consequences of the exterior conceptive powers.\n\n     We have double conceptions, and double perceptions; we are\n     throughout double beings; and claim the universal morality, as well\n     as the personal.\n\n     We must now educate the universal moral faculties, as before we\n     have only educated the personal moral faculties.\n\n     It is in the universal moral faculties that the laws reside; until\n     these laws are developed, we remain lawless beings.\n\n     The personal moral faculties cannot stand without the aid of the\n     universal moral faculties, any more than the branches can grow\n     without the roots.\n\n     Education, to be decidedly religious, should reach man's universal\n     faculties, those faculties which contain the laws that connect man\n     with his maker.\n\n     These reflections seem to me to be worthy of consideration. Should\n     any of them strike you as worth while to make an observation upon,\n     I shall be happy to hear it. Suggestions are always valuable, as\n     they offer to the mind the liberty of free activity. The work we\n     are engaged in is too extensive and important, to lose any\n     opportunity of gaining information.\n\n     The earlier I receive your reply, the better.\n\n     I am, dear Sir, yours faithfully,\n\n     J. P. GREAVES.\n\nIn 1842, Mr. Alcott visited England with the aim to confer with the\nphilanthropists and educators there, to exchange views, collect\ninformation, and gather hints on the subject of literary and social\nmethods. Mr. Greaves was dead; but the living friends of the \"First\nPhilosophy\" received him with hearty respect and joy, introduced him to\nmen of literary and philanthropic eminence, and made his arrival the\noccasion of meetings for conversation on the religious, social and\nethical questions of the day. The meetings were held mostly at an\ninstitution managed on his own methods and called by his own name, the\nschool of Mr. Wright at Alcott House, Ham, Surrey. Strange people were\nsome of those he met, Communists, Alists (deriving their name from\nAlah--the Hebrew name for God), Syncretic Associationists,\nPestalozzians, friends and advocates of self-supporting institutions,\nexperimental Normal Schools, Hydropathic and Philosophical Associations,\nHealth Unions, Philansteries, Utopias of every description, new social\narrangements between the sexes, new devices for making marriage what it\nshould be.\n\nThe London _Morning Chronicle_, of July 5th, contained the following\nadvertisement:\n\n     \"Public Invitation.--An open meeting of the friends to human\n     progress will be held to-morrow, July 6th, at Mr. Wright's, Alcott\n     House School, Ham Common, near Richmond, Surrey, for the purpose of\n     considering and adopting means for the promotion of the great end,\n     when all who are interested in human destiny are earnestly urged to\n     attend. The chair taken at three o'clock, and again at seven, by A.\n     Bronson Alcott, Esq., now on a visit from America. Omnibuses travel\n     to and fro, and the Richmond steamboat reaches at a convenient\n     hour.\"\n\nThe call brought together some sixteen or twenty persons, from various\ndistances; one a hundred miles; another a hundred and fifty. \"We did not\nfind it easy to propose a question sufficiently comprehensive to unfold\nthe whole of the fact with which our bosoms labored,\" writes a private\ncorrespondent of the \"Dial.\"\n\n     \"We aimed at nothing less than to speak of the instauration of\n     spirit, and its incarnation in a beautiful form. When a word failed\n     in extent of meaning, we loaded the word with new meaning. The word\n     did not confine our experience, but from our own being we gave\n     significance to the word. Into one body we infused many lives, and\n     it shone as the image of divine or angelic, or human thought. For a\n     word is a Proteus, that means to a man what the man is.\"\n\nThe \"Dial\" of October, 1842, prints an abstract of the proceedings,\nwhich are interesting, as illustrations of the phases that the Spiritual\nPhilosophy assumed, but would occupy more space here than their\nsignificance warrants. Three papers were presented, on Formation,\nTransition, Reformation. The views, it is needless to say, were of the\nextreme school. The essayist on the first theme advanced the doctrine\nthat evil commenced in birth; that the unpardonable sin was an unholy\nbirth; that birth \"must be surrendered to the spirit.\" The second\nessayist maintained that property was held on the tenure of might and\nimmemorial custom; that \"pure love, which is ever communicative, never\nyet conceded to any being the right of appropriation.\" \"We ignore human\ngovernments, creeds and institutions; we deny the right of any man to\ndictate laws for our regulation, or duties for our performance; and\ndeclare our allegiance only to Universal Love, the all-embracing\nJustice.\"\n\nThe reader of the paper on Reformation pursued the same train of\nthought; he demanded amendment of monetary arrangements, the penal code,\neducation, the church, the law of primogeniture, and divorce; challenged\nreliance on commercial prosperity and popular representation; denied the\nright of man to inflict pain on man; asserted that the question of\ngeneration preceded that of education; that the reign of love was\nsupreme over that of opinion; insisted on \"the restoration of all things\nto their primitive Owner, and hence the abrogation of property--either\nindividual or collective;\" and on \"the divine sanction, instead of the\ncivil and ecclesiastical authority, for marriage.\" It was his idea, that\n\"aspirations are the pledge of their own fulfilment,\"--that \"beneath the\nactual which a man is, there is always covered a possible to tempt him\nforward\"--that \"beneath sense lie reason and understanding; beneath them\nboth, humility; and beneath all, God\"--that \"to be God-like we must pass\nthrough the grades of progress.\" \"Even now the God-life is enfolded in\nus; even now the streams of eternity course freely in our central heart;\nif impelled by the spirit to intermingle with the arrangements of\npolities of the world, in order to improve them, we shall discover the\nhigh point from which we begin, by the God-thought in our interference;\nour act must be divine; we seem to do, God does; God empowers\nlegislators, and ennobles them for their fidelity; let them, however,\nbe apostles, not apostles' representatives; men of God, not men of men;\npersonal elevation is our credentials; personal reform is that which is\npracticable, and without it our efforts on behalf of others are dreams\nonly.\"\n\nNo remarks from Mr. Alcott are recorded. That the meetings satisfied and\ncheered him may be inferred from the circumstance that, immediately\nafter his return from England, he undertook to inaugurate the ideal\nsocial state at Fruitlands--with what success we know.\n\nIn 1859, Mr. Alcott had another and larger opportunity to exercise his\nwisdom as an educator of youth. He was chosen superintendent of the\nschools of Concord; a position that called out the finest qualities of\nhis mind, and put to immediate use the results of his long experience,\nbut relieved him from the business arrangements for which he had never\ndisplayed an aptitude. The three brief but remarkable reports that he\nmade on the condition and needs of the schools, increase one's respect\nfor the workings of the spiritual philosophy in this field of effort. If\nthe suggestions offered in those reports were to any considerable extent\nadopted, if the noble and gracious spirit of them was felt, the schools\nof Concord should be model schools of their class.\n\n     \"The school is the primary interest of the community. Every parent\n     naturally desires a better education for his children than he\n     received himself, and spends liberally of his substance for this\n     pleasure; wisely hoping to make up his deficiencies in that way,\n     and to complement himself in their better attainments; esteeming\n     these the richest estate he can leave, and the fairest ornaments of\n     his family name.\"\n\n     \"Especially have I wished to introduce the young to the study of\n     their minds, the love of thinking; often giving examples of lessons\n     in analysis and classification of their faculties. I think I may\n     say that these exercises have given much pleasure, and have been\n     found profitable alike to the teacher and the children. In most\n     instances, I have closed my visits by reading some interesting\n     story or parable. These have never failed of gaining attention, and\n     in most cases, prompt responses. I consider these readings and\n     colloquies as among the most profitable and instructive of the\n     superintendent's labors.\"\n\nPilgrim's Progress, Krummacher's Parables, AEsop's Fables, Faery Queen,\nthe stories of Plutarch and Shakspeare, were his favorites.\n\n     \"The graceful exercise of singing has been introduced into some of\n     the schools. It should prevail in all of them. It softens the\n     manners, cultivates the voice, and purifies the taste of the\n     children. It promotes harmony and good feelings. The old masters\n     thought much of it as a discipline. 'Let us sing' has the welcome\n     sound of 'Let us play,'--and is perhaps the child's prettiest\n     translation of 'Let us pray,'--admitting him soonest to the\n     intimacy he seeks.\"\n\n     \"Conversations on words, paraphrases and translations of sentences,\n     are the natural methods of opening the study of language. A child\n     should never be suffered to lose sight of the prime fact that he is\n     studying the realities of nature and of the mind through the\n     picture books of language. Any teaching falling short of this is\n     hollow and a wrong done to the mind.\"\n\n     \"For composition, let a boy keep his diary, write his letters, try\n     his hand at defining from a dictionary and paraphrasing, and he\n     will find ways of expressing himself simply as boys and men did\n     before grammars were invented.\"\n\n     \"Teaching is a personal influence for the most part, and operating\n     as a spirit unsuspected at the moment. I have wished to divine the\n     secret source of success attained by any, and do justice to this;\n     it seemed most becoming to regard any blemishes as of secondary\n     account in the light of the acknowledged deserts. We require of\n     each what she has to give, no more. Does the teacher awaken\n     thought, strengthen the mind, kindle the affections, call the\n     conscience, the common sense into lively and controlling activity,\n     so promoting the love of study, the practice of the virtues; habits\n     that shall accompany the children outwards into life? The memory is\n     thus best cared for, the end of study answered; the debt of teacher\n     to parents, of parents to teacher discharged, and so the State's\n     bounty best bestowed.\"\n\n     \"A little gymnasticon, a system of gestures for the body might be\n     organized skilfully and become part of the daily exercises in our\n     schools. Graceful steps, pretty musical airs, in accompaniment of\n     songs--suiting the sentiment to the motions, the emotions, ideas of\n     the child--would be conducive to health of body and mind alike. We\n     shall adopt dancing presently as a natural training for the manners\n     and morals of the young.\"\n\n     \"Conversation is the mind's mouth-piece, its best spokesman; the\n     leader elect and prompter in teaching; practised daily, it should\n     be added to the list of school studies; an art in itself, let it be\n     used as such, and ranked as an accomplishment second to none that\n     nature or culture can give. Certainly the best we can do is to\n     teach ourselves and children how to talk. Let conversation displace\n     much that passes current under the name of recitation; mostly sound\n     and parrotry, a repeating by rote not by heart, unmeaning sounds\n     from the memory and no more. 'Take my mind a moment,' says the\n     teacher, 'and see how things look through that prism,' and the\n     pupil sees prospects never seen before or surmised by him in that\n     lively perspective. So taught the masters; Plato, Plutarch,\n     Pythagoras, Pestalozzi; so Christianity was first published from\n     lovely lips; so every one teaches deserving the name of teacher or\n     interpreter. Illustration always and apt; life calling forth life;\n     the giving of life and a partaking. Nothing should be interposed\n     between the mind and its subject matter--cold sense is impertinent;\n     learning is insufficient--only life alone; life like a torch\n     lighting the head at the heart.\"\n\n     \"Next to thinking for themselves, the best service any teacher can\n     render his scholars is to show them how to use books. The wise\n     teacher is the key for opening the mind to the books he places\n     before it.\"\n\n     \"Stories are the idyls of childhood. They cast about it the romance\n     it loves and lives in, rendering the commonest circumstances and\n     things inviting and beautiful. Parables, poems, histories,\n     anecdotes, are prime aids in teaching; the readiest means of\n     influence and inspiration; the liveliest substitutes for flagging\n     spirits, fatigued wits.\"\n\n     \"A little atlas of the body mythologically shown from the artist's\n     points of view, the plates displaying the person to the eye, in a\n     set of draped figures, is a book much wanted for first lines in\n     drawing. A child's piety is seen in its regards for its body and\n     the concern it shows in its carriage and keeping. Of all forms the\n     human form is most marvellous; and the modest reverence for its\n     shadings intimates the proper mode of studying it rightly and\n     religiously as a pantheon of powers. The prime training best opens\n     here as an idealism, the soul fashioning her image in the form she\n     animates, and so scrutinizing piously without plucking the\n     forbidden fruits.\"\n\n     \"There is a want of suitable aids to the studies of these\n     mysteries. The best books I know are poor enough. In the want of a\n     better, we name for the study of matter in its connection with the\n     mind, including the proper considerations regarding health and\n     temperance, Graham's 'Laws of Life,' a rather dull but earnest\n     book; and for smaller classes and beginners Dr. Alcott's 'House I\n     Live In.' Miss Catherine Beecher's book for studies in Physiology\n     and Calisthenics, is a practical treatise, and should be in all\n     schools. Sir John Sinclair's 'Code of Health' contains a\n     republication of the Wisdom of the Ancients, on these subjects, and\n     is a book for all persons and times.\"\n\n     \"Perhaps we are correcting the old affection for flogging at some\n     risk of spoiling the boys of this generation. Girls have always\n     known how to cover with shame any insult of that sort, but the\n     power of persuasion comes slow as a promptitude to supersede its\n     necessity. Who deals with a child, deals with a piece of divinity\n     obeying laws as innate as those he transgresses; and which he must\n     treat tenderly, lest he put spiritual interests in jeopardy.\n     Punishment must be just, else it cannot be accepted as good, and\n     least of all by the wicked and weak.\"\n\n     \"The accomplished teacher combines in himself the art of teaching\n     and of ruling; power over the intellect and the will, inspiration\n     and persuasiveness. And this implies a double consciousness in its\n     possessor that carries forward the teaching and ruling together;\n     noting what transpires in motive as in act; the gift that in seeing\n     controls. It is the sway of presence and of mien; a conversion of\n     the will to his wishes, without which other gifts are of little\n     avail.\"\n\n     \"Be sure the liveliest dispensations, the holiest, are his (the\n     unruly boy's)--his as cordially as ours, and sought for as kindly.\n     We must meet him where he is. Best to follow his bent if bent\n     beautifully; else bending him gently, not fractiously, lest we snap\n     or stiffen a stubbornness too stiff already. Gentleness now; the\n     fair eye, the conquering glances straight and sure; the strong\n     hand, if you must, till he fall penitent at the feet of Persuasion;\n     the stroke of grace before the smiting of the birch; for only so is\n     the conquest complete, and the victory the Lord's. If she is good\n     enough she may strike strong and frequent, till thanks come for it;\n     but who is she, much less he, that dares do it more than once, nor\n     repents in sorrow and shame for the strokes given? Only 'the\n     shining ones' may do it for good.\"\n\n     \"Our teachers open their schools with readings from the New\n     Testament, and this reading is in some of the schools, and would,\n     but for a diffident piety, be followed in all, by devotions and the\n     singing of some suitable morning hymn. The spoken prayers and\n     praises are not enjoined by our rules; and we think we show therein\n     that tender courtesy to the faiths of the heart that true piety\n     loves and cannot overstep. An earnest and sweet disposition is the\n     spring from which children love to taste, and best always if\n     insinuated softly in mild persuasions, and so leading to the\n     practice of the loves and graces that soften and save. A course of\n     readings from the Picture Testament might favor the best ends of\n     spiritual culture. A child should be approached with reverence, as\n     a recipient of the spirit from above. The best of books claims the\n     best of persons and the gracious moments to make its meanings\n     clear; else the reading and listening are but a sound, a pretence,\n     and of no account. I have wished these books were opened with the\n     awe belonging to the eminent Personalities portrayed therein,\n     thinking them best read when the glow of sentiment kindles the\n     meaning into life in the morning hour--the teacher opening her\n     school by opening their leaves.\"\n\nThe following earnest words respecting the duties of the State in regard\nto the education of its children, may fitly close these fragmentary\nextracts, which give but the scantiest notions of the richness of\nsuggestion in these reports:\n\n     \"It is difficult to reach the sources of ignorance and consequent\n     crime in a community like ours, calling itself free, and boasting\n     of its right to do what it will. But freedom is a social not less\n     than an individual concern, and the end of the State is to protect\n     it. The first object of a free people is the preservation of their\n     liberties. It becomes, then, their first duty to assume the\n     training of all the children in the principles of right knowledge\n     and virtue, as the only safeguard of their liberties. We cannot\n     afford to wait at such hazards. The simplest humanities are also\n     the least costly, and the nearest home. We should begin there. The\n     State is stabbed at the hearth-side and here liberty and honor are\n     first sold. It is injured by family neglect, and should protect\n     itself in securing its children's virtue against their parents'\n     vices; for, by so doing, can it alone redeem its pledges to\n     humanity and its citizens' liberties. A virtuous education is the\n     greatest alms it can bestow on any of its children.\"\n\nMeetings for conversation with the parents of the scholars were a device\nof Mr. Alcott for bringing the subject of education home to those whose\nconcern in it should be the deepest.\n\nHis faith was from the first in conversation, rather than in lecturing\nor in preaching. Preaching assumed too much in the single mind, paid\nless than due respect to the minds of the hearers, and gave no\nopportunity for the instant exchange of thoughts. Lecturing was\nintellectual and even less sympathetic. By conversation the best was\ndrawn out and the best imparted. All were put on an equality; all were\nencouraged, none oppressed.\n\n     \"Truth,\" Mr. Alcott declares \"is spherical, and seen differently\n     according to the culture, temperament and disposition of those who\n     survey it from their individual standpoint. Of two or more sides,\n     none can be absolutely right, and conversation fails if it find not\n     the central truth from which all radiate; debate is angular,\n     conversation circular and radiant of the underlying unity. Who\n     speaks, deeply excludes all possibility of controversy. His\n     affirmation is self-sufficient; his assumption final, absolute.\n     Thus holding himself above the arena of dispute he gracefully\n     settles a question by speaking so home to the core of the matter as\n     to undermine the premise upon which an issue had been taken. For\n     whoso speaks to the personality dives beneath the grounds of\n     difference, and deals face to face with principles and ideas.\"\n\n     \"Good discourse sinks differences and seeks agreements. It avoids\n     argument, by finding a common basis of agreement; and thus escapes\n     controversy by rendering it superfluous. Pertinent to the platform,\n     debate is out of place in the parlor. Persuasion is the better\n     weapon in this glittering game.\"\n\n     \"Conversation presupposes a common sympathy in the subject, a great\n     equality in the speakers; absence of egotism, a tender criticism of\n     what is spoken. Good discourse wins from the bashful and discreet\n     what they have to speak, but would not, without this provocation.\n     The forbidding faces are Fates to overbear and blemish true\n     fellowship. We give what we are, not necessarily what we know;\n     nothing more, nothing less, and only to our kind; those playing\n     best their parts who have the nimblest wits, taking out the\n     egotism, the nonsense, putting wisdom, information in their place.\"\n\nMr. Alcott therefore forsook the platform, seldom entered the pulpit,\nadopted the parlor, and made it what its name imports, the talking\nplace. Collecting a company of ladies and gentlemen, larger or smaller,\nas nearly as possible of similar tastes and culture, he started a topic\nof general interest and broad scope--usually one of social concern with\ndeep roots and wide branches,--and began his soliloquy in a calm and\neasy strain, throwing out suggestions as he went on, and enticing\nthoughts from the various minds present. If none responded or\naccompanied, the discourse proceeded evenly till the measure of an hour\nwas filled. If the company was awake, and sympathetic, the soliloquy\nbecame conversation and an evening full of instruction and entertainment\nfollowed. When circumstances favored--the room, decorations, atmosphere,\nmingling of elements--the season was delightful. The unfailing serenity\nof the leader, his wealth of mental resource, his hospitality of\nthought, his wit, his extraordinary felicity of language, his delicacy\nof touch, ready appreciation of different views, and singular grace in\nturning opinions towards the light, made it clear to all present that to\nthis especial calling he was chosen. For years Mr. Alcott's\nconversations have been a recognized institution in Eastern and Western\ncities. Every winter he takes the field, and goes through the Northern\nand North Western States, with his scheme of topics. The best minds\ncollect about him, and centres of influence are established that act as\npermanent distributors of culture. The noble idealism never pales or\nfalters. Neither politics, science, financial convulsion, or civil war,\ndisturb the calm serenity of the soul that is sure that mind is its own\nplace, and that infinite and absolute mind is supreme above all.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE CRITIC.\n\n\nMargaret Fuller--she was called Ossoli long after the time\nwe are concerned with, in a foreign land and amid foreign\nassociations--Margaret Fuller died July 16th, 1850. In 1852 her Memoirs\nwere published in Boston, written by Ralph Waldo Emerson, James Freeman\nClarke, and William Henry Channing: each giving an individual and\npersonal account of her. These three gentlemen--all remarkable for\nintellectual capacity, sympathetic appreciation, and literary\nskill--undertook their task in the spirit of loving admiration, and\nexecuted it with extraordinary frankness, courage and delicacy. No more\nunique or satisfactory book of biography was ever made. They had known\nMargaret personally and well; were intimately acquainted with her mind,\nand deeply interested in her character. They had access to all the\nnecessary materials. The whole life--inward and outward--was open to\nthem, and they described it with no more reserve than good taste\nimposed. Those who are interested to know what sort of a person she was,\nare referred to that book, from which the biographical materials for\nthis little sketch have, in the main, been taken. Her place here is due\nto her association with the leaders of the Transcendental movement, and\nto the peculiar part she played in it.\n\nStrictly speaking, she was not a Transcendentalist, though Mr. Channing\ndeclares her to have been \"in spirit and thought pre-eminently a\ntranscendentalist;\" and Mr. Alcott wrote that she adopted \"the spiritual\nphilosophy, and had the subtlest perception of its bearings.\" She was\nenthusiastic rather than philosophical, and poetic more than systematic.\nEmerson's judgment is that--\n\n     \"Left to herself, and in her correspondence, she was much the\n     victim of Lord Bacon's _idols of the cave_, or self-deceived by her\n     own phantasms.... Her letters are tainted with a mysticism which,\n     to me, appears so much an affair of constitution, that it claims no\n     more respect than the charity or patriotism of a man who has dined\n     well and feels better for it. In our noble Margaret, her personal\n     feeling colors all her judgment of persons, of books, of pictures,\n     and even of the laws of the world.... Whole sheets of warm, florid\n     writing are here, in which the eye is caught by 'sapphire,'\n     'heliotrope,' 'dragon,' 'aloes,' 'Magna Dea,' 'limboes,' 'stars,'\n     and 'purgatory'--but one can connect all this or any part of it\n     with no universal experience.\n\n     \"In short, Margaret often loses herself in sentimentalism; that\n     dangerous vertigo nature, in her case, adopted, and was to make\n     respectable.... Her integrity was perfect, and she was led and\n     followed by love; and was really bent on truth, but too indulgent\n     to the meteors of her fancy.\"\n\nShe said of herself:\n\n     \"When I was in Cambridge I got Fichte and Jacobi; I was much\n     interrupted, but some time and earnest thought I devoted; Fichte I\n     could not understand at all, though the treatise which I read was\n     one intended to be popular, and which he says must compel to\n     conviction. Jacobi I could understand in details, but not in\n     system. It seemed to me that his mind must have been moulded by\n     some other mind, with which I ought to be acquainted, in order to\n     know him well--perhaps Spinoza's. Since I came home I have been\n     consulting Buhle's and Tennemann's histories of philosophy, and\n     dipping into Brown, Stewart, and that class of books.\"\n\nThis was in 1832, before the transcendental movement began. At the same\nperiod, writing to a friend on the subject of religious faith--a subject\nintimately allied with philosophy--she said:\n\n     \"I have not formed an opinion; I have determined not to form\n     settled opinions at present; loving or feeble natures need a\n     positive religion--a visible refuge, a protection--as much in the\n     passionate season of youth as in those stages nearer to the grave.\n     But mine is not such. My pride is superior to any feelings I have\n     yet experienced; my affection is strong admiration, not the\n     necessity of giving or receiving assistance or sympathy. When\n     disappointed, I do not ask or wish consolation; I wish to know and\n     feel my pain, to investigate its nature and its source; I will not\n     have my thoughts diverted or my feelings soothed; 'tis therefore\n     that my young life is so singularly barren of illusions. I know I\n     feel the time must come when this proud and impatient heart shall\n     be stilled, and turn from the ardors of search and action to lean\n     on something above. But shall I say it?--the thought of that calmer\n     era is to me a thought of deepest sadness; so remote from my\n     present being is that future existence, which still the mind may\n     conceive; I believe in eternal progression; I believe in a God, a\n     beauty and perfection, to which I am to strive all my life for\n     assimilation. From these two articles of belief I draw the rules by\n     which I strive to regulate my life; but though I reverence all\n     religions as necessary to the happiness of man, I am yet ignorant\n     of the religion of revelation. Tangible promises, well-defined\n     hopes, are things of which I do not _now_ feel the need. At\n     present, my soul is intent on this life, and I think of religion as\n     its rule; and in my opinion this is the natural and proper course\n     from youth to age.\"\n\nThe tone of this extract is negatively transcendental; that is, it\nimplies that the writer did not belong to the opposite school, in any\nsense; and that her mind was in condition to accept the cardinal truths\nof a philosophy, the special doctrines whereof she did not apprehend or\nfeel interested in. Had she entertained a philosophical creed, it would\nhave been the creed of Schelling, more likely than any other.\n\nMargaret Fuller was a critic, and a critic rather from natural gift than\nfrom trained perception. Her genius was her guide. Persons and things\ncame to her for judgment, and judgment they received. Searching and\nfrank, but hearty and loving, she judged from the inside. To her, so her\nbiographers tell, with unanimous voice, \"the secrets of all hearts were\nrevealed.\" In private intercourse, in letters, in parlor conversations\non books, pictures, statues, architecture, she was ever the judge. The\nmost unlike minds and characters receive their dues with entire\nimpartiality; Goethe, Lessing, Novalis, Jean Paul, were each in kind\nhonored. The last is \"infinitely variegated, and certainly most\nexquisitely colored, but fatigues attention; his philosophy and religion\nseem to be of the sighing sort.\" She is steeped to the lips in enjoyment\nby Southey, whom she was inclined to place next to Wordsworth.\nColeridge, Heine, Carlyle, Herschel, attract her mind. She ponders\nbefore Michael Angelo's sibyls; displays a singular penetration in her\nanalysis of them, and makes them all interpreters of the genius of\nwoman. The soul of Greek art, as contrasted with Christian, is disclosed\nto her with a clear perception; the Greek mythology gave up to her its\nsecret; emblems, symbols, dark parables, enigmas, mysteries, laid aside\ntheir vails. A friend said of her: \"She proceeds in her search after the\nunity of things, the divine harmony, not by exclusion but by\ncomprehension; and so no poorest, saddest spirit but she will lead to\nhope and faith. I have thought, sometimes, that her acceptance of evil\nwas _too_ great; that her theory of the good to be educed proved too\nmuch; but I understand her now better than I did.\" Atkinson, the\n\"mesmeric atheist,\" struck her as \"a fine instinctive nature, with a\nhead for Leonardo to paint,\" who \"seems bound by no tie, yet looks as if\nhe had relatives in every place.\" Mazzini impressed her as one \"in whom\nholiness has purified, but somewhat dwarfed the man.\" Carlyle \"is\narrogant and overbearing; but in his arrogance there is no bitterness,\nno self-love. It is the heroic arrogance of some old Scandinavian\nconqueror; it is his nature, and the untamable energy that has given him\npower to crush the dragon.\" Dr. Wilkinson, the Swedenborgian, is \"a\nsane, strong, well-exercised mind; but in the last degree unpoetical in\nits structure; very simple, natural, and good; excellent to see, though\none cannot go far with him.\" Rachel, Fourier, Rousseau--she has a\npiercing glance for them all; a word of warm admiration, all the more\nweighty for being qualified by criticism.\n\nIt was probably this keen penetration, this capacity to appreciate all\nkinds, this inclusiveness of sympathy, that prompted the selection of\nMargaret Fuller as chief editor of the \"Dial,\" the organ of\ntranscendental thought. Thus she regarded the enterprise:\n\n     \"What others can do--whether all that has been said is the mere\n     restlessness of discontent, or there are thoughts really struggling\n     for utterance,--will be tested now. A perfectly free organ is to be\n     offered for the expression of individual thought and character.\n     There are no party measures to be carried, no particular standards\n     to be set up; a fair, calm tone, a recognition of universal\n     principles, will, I hope, pervade the essays in every form. I trust\n     there will be a spirit neither of dogmatism nor compromise, and\n     that this journal will aim, not at leading public opinion, but at\n     stimulating each man to judge for himself, and to think more deeply\n     and more nobly, by letting him see how some minds are kept alive by\n     a wise self-trust. We must not be sanguine at the amount of talent\n     which will be brought to bear on this publication. All concerned\n     are rather indifferent, and there is no great promise for the\n     present. We cannot show high culture, and I doubt about vigorous\n     thought. But we shall manifest free action as far as it goes, and a\n     high aim. It were much if a periodical could be kept open, not to\n     accomplish any outward object, but merely to afford an avenue for\n     what of liberal and calm thought might be originated among us, by\n     the wants of individual minds.\"\n\n     \"Mr. Emerson best knows what he wants; but he has already said it\n     in various ways. Yet this experiment is well worth trying; hearts\n     beat so high, they must be full of something, and here is a way to\n     breathe it out quite freely. It is for dear New England that I want\n     this review. For myself, if I had wished to write a few pages now\n     and then, there were ways and means enough of disposing of them.\n     But in truth I have not much to say; for since I have had leisure\n     to look at myself, I find that, so far from being an original\n     genius, I have not yet learned to think to any depth, and that the\n     utmost I have done in life has been to form my character to a\n     certain consistency, cultivate my tastes, and learn to tell the\n     truth with a little better grace than I did at first. For this the\n     world will not care much, so I shall hazard a few critical remarks\n     only, or an unpretending chalk sketch now and then till I have\n     learned to do something. There will be beautiful poesies; about\n     prose we know not yet so well. We shall be the means of publishing\n     the little Charles Emerson left as a mark of his noble course, and,\n     though it lies in fragments, all who read will be gainers.\"\n\nThat these modest anticipations were justified and more, need not be\nsaid. The \"beautiful poesies\" came, and so did the various, eloquent,\nwell-considered prose. The people who expected the whole gospel of\nTranscendentalism may have been disappointed; for the editor gave the\nmagazine more of a literary than philosophical or reformatory tone. That\nshe looked for from others, and was more than willing to welcome. She\nhad a discerning eye for the evils of the time, and a sincere respect\nfor the men and women who were disposed to counteract them. Another\nextract from her correspondence at this time--1840--taken, like the\nformer, from the second volume of the memoirs, leaves no doubt on this\npoint. After speaking of \"the tendency of circumstances,\" since the\nseparation from England, \"to make our people superficial, irreverent,\nand more anxious to get a living than to live mentally and morally,\" she\ncontinues:\n\n     \"New England is now old enough, some there have leisure enough to\n     look at all this, and the consequence is a violent reaction, in a\n     small minority, against a mode of culture that rears such fruits.\n     They see that political freedom does not necessarily produce\n     liberality of mind, nor freedom in church institutions, vital\n     religion; and, seeing that these changes cannot be wrought from\n     without inwards, they are trying to quicken the soul, that they may\n     work from within outwards. Disgusted with the vulgarity of a\n     commercial aristocracy, they become radicals; disgusted with the\n     materialistic working of \"rational\" religion they become mystics.\n     They quarrel with all that is because it is not spiritual enough.\n     They would, perhaps, be patient, if they thought this the mere\n     sensuality of childhood in our nation, which it might outgrow; but\n     they think that they see the evil widening, deepening, not only\n     debasing the life, but corrupting the thought of our people; and\n     they feel that if they know not well what should be done, yet that\n     the duty of every good man is to utter a protest against what is\n     done amiss. Is this protest undiscriminating? Are these opinions\n     crude? Do these proceedings threaten to sap the bulwarks on which\n     men at present depend? I confess it all, yet I see in these men\n     promise of a better wisdom than in their opponents. Their hope for\n     man is grounded on his destiny as an immortal soul, and not as a\n     mere comfort-loving inhabitant of earth, or as a subscriber to the\n     social contract. It was not meant that the soul should cultivate\n     the earth, but that the earth should educate and maintain the soul.\n     Man is not made for society, but society is made for man. No\n     institution can be good which does not tend to improve the\n     individual. In these principles I have confidence so profound, that\n     I am not afraid to trust those who hold them, despite their partial\n     views, imperfectly developed characters, and frequent want of\n     practical sagacity. I believe, if they have opportunity to state\n     and discuss their opinions, they will gradually sift them,\n     ascertain their grounds and aims with clearness, and do the work\n     this country needs. I hope for them as for the 'leaven that is\n     hidden in the bushel of meal till all be leavened.' The leaven is\n     not good by itself, neither is the meal; let them combine, and we\n     shall yet have bread.\"\n\n     \"Utopia it is impossible to build up; at least, my hopes for the\n     race on this one planet are more limited than those of most of my\n     friends; I accept the limitations of human nature, and believe a\n     wise acknowledgment of them one of the best conditions of progress;\n     yet every noble scheme, every poetic manifestation, prophesies to\n     man his eventual destiny; and were not man ever more sanguine than\n     facts at the moment justify, he would remain torpid, or be sunk in\n     sensuality. It is on this ground that I sympathize with what is\n     called the 'Transcendental Party,' and that I feel their aim to be\n     the true one. They acknowledge in the nature of man an arbiter for\n     his deeds--a standard transcending sense and time--and are, in my\n     view, the true utilitarians. They are but at the beginning of their\n     course, and will, I hope, learn to make use of the past, as well as\n     to aspire for the future, and to be true in the present moment.\"\n\nMargaret Fuller's power lay in her faith in this spiritual capacity. The\nconfidence began with herself, and was extended to all others, without\nexception. Mr. Channing says:\n\n     \"Margaret cherished a trust in her powers, a confidence in her\n     destiny, and an ideal of her being, place and influence, so lofty\n     as to be extravagant. In the morning hour and mountain air of\n     aspiration, her shadow moved before her, of gigantic size, upon the\n     snow-white vapor.\"\n\nMr. Clarke says:\n\n     \"Margaret's life _had an aim_, and she was, therefore, essentially\n     a moral person, and not merely an overflowing genius, in whom\n     impulse gives birth to impulse, deed to deed. This aim was\n     distinctly apprehended and steadily pursued by her from first to\n     last. It was a high, noble one, wholly religious, almost Christian.\n     It gave dignity to her whole career, and made it heroic.\n\n     \"This aim, from first to last, was SELF-CULTURE. If she was ever\n     ambitious of knowledge and talent, as a means of excelling others,\n     and gaining fame, position, admiration--this vanity had passed\n     before I knew her, and was replaced by the profound desire for a\n     full development of her whole nature, by means of a full experience\n     of life.\"\n\nSpeaking of her demands on others, her three biographers agree that they\nwere based on the expectation in them of spiritual excellence:\n\n     \"One thing only she demanded of all her friends--that they should\n     have some 'extraordinary generous seeking;' that they should not be\n     satisfied with the common routine of life--that they should aspire\n     to something higher, better, holier, than they had now attained.\n     Where this element of aspiration existed, she demanded no\n     originality of intellect, no greatness of soul. If these were\n     found, well; but she could love, tenderly and truly, where they\n     were not.\n\n     \"She never formed a friendship until she had seen and known this\n     germ of good, and afterwards judged conduct by this. To this germ\n     of good, to this highest law of each individual, she held them\n     true.\n\n     \"Some of her friends were young, gay, and beautiful; some old,\n     sick, or studious; some were children of the world, others pale\n     scholars; some were witty, others slightly dull; but all, in order\n     to be Margaret's friends, must be capable of seeking\n     something--capable of some aspiration for the better. And how did\n     she glorify life to all! All that was tame and common vanishing\n     away in the picturesque light thrown over the most familiar things\n     by her rapid fancy, her brilliant wit, her sharp insight, her\n     creative imagination, by the inexhaustible resources of her\n     knowledge, and the copious rhetoric, which found words and images\n     always apt and always ready.\"\n\n     \"Margaret saw in each of her friends the secret interior\n     capability, which might be hereafter developed into some special\n     beauty or power. By means of this penetrating, this prophetic\n     insight, she gave each to himself, acted on each to draw out his\n     best nature; gave him an ideal, out of which he could draw strength\n     and liberty, hour by hour. Thus her influence was ever ennobling,\n     and each felt that in her society he was truer, wiser, better, and\n     yet more free and happy than elsewhere. The 'dry light,' which Lord\n     Bacon loved, she never knew: her light was life, was love, was warm\n     with sympathy and a boundless energy of affection and hope. Though\n     her love flattered and charmed her friends, it did not spoil them,\n     for they knew her perfect truth; they knew that she loved them, not\n     for what she imagined, but for what she saw, though she saw it only\n     in the germ. But as the Greeks beheld a Persephone and Athene in\n     the passing stranger, and ennobled humanity into ideal beauty,\n     Margaret saw all her friends thus idealized; she was a balloon of\n     sufficient power to take us all up with her into the serene depth\n     of heaven, where she loved to float, far above the low details of\n     earthly life; earth lay beneath us as a lovely picture--its sounds\n     came up mellowed into music.\"\n\n     \"Margaret was, to persons younger than herself, a Makaria and\n     Natalia. She was wisdom and intellectual beauty, filling life with\n     a charm and glory 'known to neither sea nor land.' To those of her\n     own age, she was sibyl and seer,--a prophetess, revealing the\n     future, pointing the path, opening their eyes to the great aims\n     only worthy of pursuit in life. To those older than herself, she\n     was like the Euphorion in Goethe's drama, child of Faust and\n     Helen,--a wonderful union of exuberance and judgment, born of\n     romantic fulness and classic limitation. They saw with surprise her\n     clear good sense, balancing her flow of sentiment and ardent\n     courage. They saw her comprehension of both sides of every\n     question, and gave her their confidence, as to one of equal age,\n     because of so ripe a judgment.\"\n\n     \"An interview with her was a joyous event; worthy men and women who\n     had conversed with her, could not forget her, but worked bravely on\n     in the remembrance that this heroic approver had recognized their\n     aims. She spoke so earnestly, that the depth of the sentiment\n     prevailed, and not the accidental expression, which might chance to\n     be common. Thus I learned the other day, that in a copy of Mrs.\n     Jameson's 'Italian Painters,' against a passage describing Coreggio\n     as a true servant of God in his art, above sordid ambition, devoted\n     to truth, 'one of those superior beings of whom there are so few;'\n     Margaret wrote on the margin: 'And yet all might be such.' The book\n     lay long on the table of the owner, in Florence, and chanced to be\n     read there by an artist of much talent. 'These words' said he,\n     months afterwards, 'struck out a new strength in me. They revived\n     resolutions long fallen away, and made me set my face like a\n     flint.'\"\n\n     \"'Yes, my life is strange;' she said, 'thine is strange. We are,\n     we shall be, in this life, mutilated beings, but there is in my\n     bosom a faith, that I shall see the reason; a glory, that I can\n     endure to be so imperfect; and a feeling, ever elastic, that fate\n     and time shall have the shame and the blame, if I am mutilated. I\n     will do all I can,--and if one cannot succeed, there is a beauty in\n     martyrdom.'\"\n\n     \"'Would not genius be common as light if men trusted their higher\n     selves?'\"\n\n     \"She won the confidence and affection of those who attracted her,\n     by unbounded sympathy and trust. She probably knew the cherished\n     secrets of more hearts than any one else, because she freely\n     imparted her own. With a full share both of intellectual and of\n     family pride, she preeminently recognized and responded to the\n     essential brotherhood of all human kind, and needed but to know\n     that a fellow being required her counsel or assistance, to render\n     her not merely willing, but eager to impart it. Loving ease,\n     luxury, and the world's good opinion, she stood ready to renounce\n     them all, at the call of pity or of duty. I think no one, not\n     radically averse to the whole system of domestic servitude, would\n     have treated servants, of whatever class, with such uniform and\n     thoughtful consideration--a regard which wholly merged their\n     factitious condition in their antecedent and permanent humanity. I\n     think few servants ever lived weeks with her, who were not\n     dignified and lastingly benefited by her influence and her\n     counsels. They might be at first repelled, by what seemed her too\n     stately manner and exacting disposition, but they soon learned to\n     esteem and love her.\n\n     \"I have known few women, and scarcely another maiden, who had the\n     heart and the courage to speak with such frank compassion, in mixed\n     circles, of the most degraded and outcast portion of the sex. The\n     contemplation of their treatment, especially by the guilty authors\n     of their ruin, moved her to a calm and mournful indignation, which\n     she did not attempt to suppress nor control. Others were willing to\n     pity and deplore; Margaret was more inclined to vindicate and to\n     redeem.\n\n     \"'In the chamber of death,' she wrote, 'I prayed in very early\n     years: \"Give me truth; cheat me by no illusion.\" O, the granting of\n     this prayer is sometimes terrible to me! I walk over burning\n     ploughshares, and they sear my feet; yet nothing but truth will do;\n     no love will serve that is not eternal, and as large as the\n     universe; no philanthropy, in executing whose behests I myself\n     become unhealthy; no creative genius which bursts asunder my life,\n     to leave it a poor black chrysalid behind; and yet this last is too\n     true of me.'\"\n\nMargaret Fuller did justice to the character of Fourier, admired his\nenthusiasm, honored his devotion, acknowledged the terrible nature of\nthe evils he gave the study of a life-time to correct, and paid an\nunstinting tribute to the disinterested motives that impelled him; but\nwith his scheme for refashioning society she had no sympathy. William H.\nChanning was an intimate friend, whose sincerity had her deepest\nrespect, whose enthusiasm won her cordial admiration; she listened to\nhis brilliant expositions of socialism, but was not persuaded. Practical\ndifficulties always appeared, and she never could believe that any\nrearrangement of circumstances would effect the regeneration of mankind.\nShe was acquainted from the first with the experiment of Brook Farm;\nknew the founders of it; watched with genuine solicitude the\ninauguration of the scheme and its fortunes; talked over the principles\nand details of it with the leading spirits; visited the community;\nexamined for herself the working of the plan; gave her talent to the\nentertainment and edification of the associates; discerned with clear\neye the distinctions between this experiment and those of European\norigin; but still questioned the practical wisdom of the institution,\nand declined to join the fraternity, even on the most flattering terms,\nfor the reason that, interested as she was in the experiment, it was, in\nher judgment, too purely an experiment to be personally and practically\nsanctioned by one who had no more faith in its fundamental principles\nthan she.\n\nShe was not to be thrown off from her essential position, the primacy\nand all sufficiency of the soul. No misery or guilt daunted her, no\nimpatience at slowness tempted her to resort to artificial methods of\ncure. Her visit to Sing Sing, and her intercourse with the abandoned\nwomen there was exceedingly interesting in this view.\n\n     \"'They listened with earnest attention, and many were moved to\n     tears. I never felt such sympathy with an audience as when, at the\n     words \"Men and Brethren,\" that sea of faces, marked with the scars\n     of every ill, were up-turned, and the shell of brutality burst\n     apart at the touch of love. I knew that at least heavenly truth\n     would not be kept out by self complacence and dependence on good\n     appearances.... These women were among the so-called worst, and all\n     from the lowest haunts of vice. Yet nothing could have been more\n     decorous than their conduct, while it was also frank; and they\n     showed a sensibility and sense of propriety which would not have\n     disgraced any society.'\"\n\n     \"She did not hesitate to avow that, on meeting some of these\n     abused, unhappy sisters, she had been surprised to find them\n     scarcely fallen morally below the ordinary standard of\n     womanhood,--realizing and loathing their debasement; anxious to\n     escape it; and only repelled by the sad consciousness that for them\n     sympathy and society remained only so long as they should persist\n     in the ways of pollution.\"\n\nMargaret Fuller's loyalty to principles was proof against bad taste;\nwhich is saying a good deal, for many a reformer is of opinion that\nblunders are worse than crimes, and that vulgarity is more offensive\nthan wickedness. She found the Fourierites in Europe terribly wearisome,\nand yet did not forget that they served the great future which neither\nthey nor she would live to see. At home she could not endure the\nAbolitionists--\"they were so tedious, often so narrow, always so rabid\nand exaggerated in their tone. But, after all, they had a high motive,\nsomething eternal in their desire and life; and if it was not the only\nthing worth thinking of, it was really something worth living and dying\nfor, to free a great nation from such a blot, such a plague.\" In Europe\nshe was disgusted at hearing Americans urging the same arguments against\nthe freedom of the Italians that they urged at home against the\nemancipation of the blacks; the same arguments in favor of the\nspoliation of Poland that they used at home in favor of the conquest of\nMexico. With her, principles were independent of time and place. She\nalways believed in liberty as a condition of enlightenment, and in\nenlightenment as a condition of progress. This practical faith in the\nintellectual and moral nature is the key to all her work. Every chamber\nthat opened she entered and occupied, fearless of ghosts and goblins.\nThe chambers that opened not she was content to leave unopened\naltogether.\n\nOn the table where the writer pens this poor tribute to a most\nremarkable woman, are the bulky volumes of her unpublished letters and\ndiaries, revealing some things too personal for the public eye, but\nnothing in the least incongruous with the best things recorded by her\nbiographers and suggested here; and how much they tell that illustrates\nand confirms the moral nobleness and sweetness of her nature. They\ncontain a psychometric examination from two letters, given after the\nmanner familiar to those interested in such things, by one of the chief\nof these spiritual vaticinators. We shall not transcribe it, for it is\nlong and indistinct. The indistinctness is the one interesting feature\nof the sketch. The sensitive reporter confessed herself put out by the\nsingular commingling of moods and dispositions, and seemed to be\ndescribing several persons in one. But through them all the same general\nimpression was clear; the impression of a fascinating, lovable, earnest\nand lofty spirit, which, whether sad or gay, intellectual or\nsentimental, bore itself like a queenly woman.\n\nWhen the news of her death reached Boston, one of Boston's eminent men\nin letters and public affairs quietly remarked: \"it is just as well so.\"\nHe was thinking of the agitation she might cause by her brilliant\nconversations and her lightning pen, if she brought back from her\nItalian heroisms the high spirit of liberty. The times were growing dark\nin America. The Slave Power was drawing its lines closer about the\ncitadel of freedom. The brave voices were few and fewer; the\nconservatives were glad when one was hushed by death. The movement she\nhad encouraged was waning. The high enthusiasm was smouldering in\nbreasts that anticipated the battle which came ten years later. The\nperiod of poetic aspiration and joy was ended, and the priestess, had\nshe survived, would have found a deserted shrine.\n\nNo accessible portrait of Margaret Fuller exists, that worthily presents\nher. Thomas Hicks painted a likeness, of cabinet size, in Rome, which\nher friends approved. The daguerreotype was too painfully literal to be\njust; the sun having no sentiment or imagination in his eye. She was not\nbeautiful in youth, nor was she one of those who gain beauty with years.\nHer physical attractions were of the kind that time impairs soon, and\nthough she died at forty, her personal charm was gone. Intellect gave\nher what beauty she had, and they saw it who saw her intellect at play.\nHer image, therefore, is best preserved in the memory of her friends.\nThey cannot put it on exhibition.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nTHE PREACHER.\n\n\nTranscendentalism is usually spoken of as a philosophy. It is more\njustly regarded as a gospel. As a philosophy it is abstract and\ndifficult--purely metaphysical in character, resting on no basis of\nobserved and scientifically-proven fact, but on the so-called data of\nconsciousness, which cannot be accurately defined, distinctly verified,\nor generally recommended. It must be, therefore, inexact and\ninconclusive; so far from uniform in its structure, that it may rather\nbe considered several systems than one. As a gospel, it possesses all\nthe qualities desirable for effect. It is worth remarking that its chief\ndisciples have been clergymen. In Germany, Schleiermacher--if we may\ncount him a Transcendentalist; he was the author of the doctrine, that\nthe essence of religion consisted in the _sense of dependence_, which\nfigured largely in the sermons of New England divines--was a clergyman;\nFichte assumed the prophetic tone; the German professors associated\nreligious teaching with the duties of their chairs. In England,\nColeridge was a preacher by practice, and, part of his life, by\nprofession; Carlyle was never anything else, his essays and even his\nhistories being sermons in disguise, and disguise of the most\ntransparent sort. In New England, Emerson began his career as a\nUnitarian minister; so did Walker; so did Ripley; so did W. H. Channing;\nso did J. S. Dwight; so did C. P. Cranch. Dr. Channing, a\nTranscendentalist without knowing it, was the greatest preacher of his\ngeneration. Brownson was a preacher of all orders in succession; Bartol\npreaches still; Clarke preaches still. Of the younger men, Johnson,\nLongfellow, Wasson, Higginson, are, or were, Unitarian clergymen. Alcott\nis a preacher without a pulpit. The order of mind that was attracted to\nthe ministry was attracted to the Transcendental ideas.\n\nThe explanation is easy; Transcendentalism possessed all the chief\nqualifications for a gospel. Its cardinal \"facts\" were few and\nmanageable. Its data were secluded in the recesses of consciousness, out\nof the reach of scientific investigation, remote from the gaze of vulgar\nskepticism; esoteric, having about them the charm of a sacred privacy,\non which common sense and the critical understanding might not intrude.\nIts oracles proceeded from a shrine, and were delivered by a priest or\npriestess, who came forth from an interior holy of holies to utter them,\nand thus were invested with the air of authority which belongs to\nexclusive and privileged truths, that revealed themselves to minds of a\ncontemplative cast. It dealt entirely with \"divine things,\" \"eternal\nrealities;\" supersensible forms of thought; problems that lay out of the\nreach of observation, such as the essential cause, spiritual laws, the\nlife after death, the essence of the good, the beautiful, the true; the\nideal possibilities of the soul; its organ was intuition; its method was\nintrospection: its brightness was inspiration. It possessed the\ncharacter of indefiniteness and mystery, full of sentiment and\nsuggestion, that fascinates the imagination, and lends itself so easily\nto acts of contemplation and worship. The German Mystics were in spirit\nTranscendentalists. The analogies are close between Boehme and\nSchelling; between Eckardt and Fichte; Frederick Schlegel had much in\ncommon with Boehme; Coleridge acknowledged his debt to him and to other\nMystics; even Hegel ran in line with them on some of his high roads.\nMinds as opposite as Alcott and Parker met in communion here--Alcott\ngoing to the Mystics for inspiration; Parker resorting to them for rest.\nThe Mystics were men of feeling; the Transcendentalists were men of\nthought: but thought and feeling sought the same object in the same\nregion. Piety was a feature of Transcendentalism; it loved devout hymns,\nmusic, the glowing language of aspiration, the moods of awe and\nhumility, emblems, symbols, expressions of inarticulate emotion,\nsilence, contemplation, breathings after communion with the Infinite.\nThe poetry of Transcendentalism is religious, with scarcely an\nexception; the most beautiful hymns in our sacred collections, the only\ndeeply impressive hymns, are by transcendental writers.\n\nThis was the aspect of Transcendentalism that fascinated Theodore\nParker. His intellect was constructed on the English model. His acute\nobservation; his passion for external facts; his faith in statistics;\nhis hunger for information on all external topics of history and\npolitics; his capacity for retaining details of miscellaneous knowledge;\nhis logical method of reasoning; his ability to handle masses of raw\nmental material, to distribute and classify;--all indicate intellectual\npower of the English rather than of the German type. It was his custom\nto speak slightingly of the \"Bridgewater Treatises\" and works of a\nsimilar class, in which the processes of inductive argument are employed\nto establish truths of the \"Pure Reason;\" but he easily fell into the\nsame habit, and pushed the inductive method as far as it would go. His\ndiscourses on Providence, the Economy of Pain and Misery, Atheism,\nTheism, in the volume entitled \"Theism, Atheism, and The Popular\nTheology,\" are quite in the style of the \"Bridgewater Treatises.\" Parker\nwas, in many respects, the opposite of a Mystic; he was a realist of the\nmost concrete description, entirely at home among sensible things, a\ngood administrator, a safe investor of moneys, a wise counsellor in\npractical affairs. But along with this intellectual quality which he\ninherited from his father, was an interior, sentimental, devotional\nquality, derived from his mother. The two were never wholly blended;\noften they were wide apart, occupying different spheres, and engaged in\ndifferent offices; sometimes they were in apparent opposition. Neither\ncould subdue or overshadow the other; neither could keep the other long\nin abeyance. As a rule, the dominion was divided between them: the\npractical understanding assumed control of all matters pertaining to\nthis world; the higher reason claimed supremacy in all matters of\nfaith. But for the tendency to poetic idealism, which came to him from\nhis mother, Parker might, from the constitution of his mind, have\nbelonged to an opposite school. A passage in the letter from Santa Cruz,\nentitled \"Theodore Parker's Experience as a Minister,\" is curious, as\nshowing how the two tendencies of his mind overlapped; he is speaking of\nthe two methods of developing the contents \"of the instinctive\nintuitions of the divine, the just, and the immortal,\"--the inductive\nand the deductive. After a few words respecting the inductive method of\ngathering facts from the history of mankind, he speaks thus of the\ndeductive: \"Next, from the primitive facts of consciousness given by the\npower of instinctive intuition, I endeavored to deduce the true notion\nof God, of justice, and futurity.\" Then, forgetting that the power of\ninstinctive intuition must be self-authenticating--cannot, at any rate,\nbe authenticated by miscellaneous facts in the religious history of\nmankind--he continues:\n\n     \"To learn what I could about the spiritual faculties of man, I not\n     only studied the sacred books of various nations, the poets and\n     philosophers who professedly treat thereof, but also such as deal\n     with sleep-walking, dreams, visions, prophecies, second-sight,\n     oracles, ecstasies, witchcraft, magic-wonders, the appearance of\n     devils, ghosts, and the like. Besides, I studied other works which\n     lie out from the regular highway of theology; the spurious books\n     attributed to famous Jews and Christians; Pseudepigraphy of the Old\n     Testament, and the Apocrypha of the New; with the strange fantasies\n     of the Neoplatonists and Gnostics.\"\n\nVery important reading all this for one who studied to qualify himself\nto instruct his fellow men in the natural history of the world's\nreligions; but not so valuable as illustrating the \"instinctive\nintuitions of human nature.\" Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Boehme,\nEckardt, never worked by that method, which may properly be called the\nmethod of Sensationalism applied to Transcendentalism. Parker, on the\nreligious side, was a pure Transcendentalist without guile, accepting\nthe transcendental ideas with no shadow of qualification; stating them\nwith the concrete sharpness of scientific propositions, and applying\nthem with the exactness of mathematical principles. He took them as he\nfound them in the writings of the great German thinkers; shaped them as\nhe, better than any body else, could shape thought in form of words,--as\nhe shaped the formula of republican government--\"government of the\npeople, by the people, for the people\"--from the looser statement of\nDaniel Webster,--and laid them down as corner-stones of a new\ntheological structure. The materials were furnished by Schleiermacher,\nSpinoza, Jacobi, Schelling; the architectural skill was his own.\nConsciousness he did not undertake to analyze; the \"facts of\nconsciousness\" he took on others' verification; their spiritual import\nhe perceived, developed and applied. Transcendentalism put into his\nhands the implements he was in special need of.\n\nIt is not easy to determine the precise period at which Parker fully\naccepted, with all its consequences, the transcendental philosophy. He\nwas not a Transcendentalist--not distinctly and avowedly one--at the\ntime of his ordination, in 1837; he clearly was in 1840, the date of\nthe Levi Blodgett letter, which contains the most thorough-going\nstatement of the transcendental idea to be found in any single tractate.\nThe probability is, that he always was one in sentiment, and became more\nand more consciously one in thought, as he found it necessary to shift\nhis position in order to save his faith. So long as the beliefs he\ncherished seemed to be satisfactorily supported on the old grounds, he\nwas content; but as the old grounds, one after another, gave way, the\nbeliefs were transferred to the keeping of new principles. Then the\nsentiments of his youth hardened into ideas; the delicate creatures that\nlived and gleamed beneath the waters of faith's tropical ocean, became\nreefs of white stone, that lifted their broad surface above the level of\nthe sea, and offered immovable support to human habitations.\n\nParker was, more than anything, a preacher;--preacher more than\ntheologian, philosopher or scholar. Whatever else he was, contributed to\nhis greatness in this. He had a profuse gift of language; expression was\na necessity to him; his thoughts came swiftly, and clothed in attractive\ngarments; he had wit, and he had humor; laughter and tears were equally\nat his command. His resources of illustration, drawn from history,\nliterature, biography, nature, were simply inexhaustible; the fruits of\nenormous reading were at the immediate disposal of a memory that never\nlost a trifle of the stores committed to it. The religious emotions were\nas genuine with him as they were quick, and as deep as they were\nglowing: the human sympathies were wide as the widest, and tender as\nthe tenderest. He had the power of persuasion and of rebuke, a withering\nsarcasm, a winning compassion. His indignation at wrong was not so\nqualified by sentimental regard for the wrong doer that invective was\nwasted on lifeless abstractions, nor was his judgment of evil doers so\naustere that wickedness escaped by being made incredible. It cannot be\nsaid of anybody that he has been able to discriminate nicely, in hours\nof moral feeling, between wrong doers and wrong deeds; that cannot be\ndone in the present state of psychological science. We simply do not\nknow what the limits of personal responsibility are; how much power is\nentrusted to the will; how much allowance is to be made for temperament\nand circumstance; at what point the individual is detached from the mass\nof mankind, and constituted an accountable person. Parker was guilty, as\nothers are, of personal injustice in holding individuals answerable for\nsins of their generation, and for vices transmitted with their blood;\nconscience and charity were occasionally at issue with him; but if\nrighteousness was betrayed into intemperance of zeal, peace made haste\nto offer its kiss of sorrow, and unaffected tears damped down the flames\nof wrath when they threatened to consume the innocent. This two-fold\npower of blasting and of blessing, was vastly effective both on large\naudiences and on small. The personal integrity which no one ever\ndoubted, the courage which was evident to even hasty observers, the\nmental independence which justified the boldness of its position by an\nindefatigable purpose to discover truth, were prime qualifications for\nthe office he filled. The very disadvantages,--an unheroic presence, an\nuninspired countenance, an unmelodious and unpliable voice, the\nnecessity of interposing glasses between his clear blue eyes and his\naudience, and thus veiling the heavens that lay behind them,--helped him\nby putting out of mind all thought of meretricious attempts at\ninfluence, and compelling recognition of the intellectual and moral\nforce which could so easily dispense with what most orators consider\ninvaluable aids.\n\nAll that Parker had went into his preaching; the wealth of his library,\nthe treasures of his heart, the sweetness of his closet meditations, the\nsolemnity of his lonely musings. But it was not this that gave him his\ngreat power as a preacher. That, we are persuaded, was due in chief part\nto the earnestness of his faith in the transcendental philosophy. How\ncordially he entertained that faith, what to him it signified in\npolitics, ethics, religion, may be learned by any who will take pains to\nread a lecture by him on Transcendentalism, recently published by the\nFree Religious Association. That he ascribed the popular interest in his\npreaching to his philosophical ideas will not perhaps be accepted as\nevidence on the point, for men are apt to be mistaken in regard to the\nsources of their power; but it is interesting as a testimony to his own\nbelief, to know that he did so. In a sermon preached on November 14th,\n1852, the occasion being his leaving the Melodeon for the Music Hall, he\npresents first the current modes of accounting for his success, and\nthen his own.\n\n     \"The first reason assigned for the audience coming together was\n     this: they came from vain curiosity, having itching ears to hear\n     'what this babbler sayeth.'\n\n     \"Then it was said, men came here because I taught utter irreligion,\n     blank immorality; that I had no love of God, no fear of God, no\n     love of man; and that you thought, if you could get rid of your\n     conscience and soul, and trample immortality under foot, and were\n     satisfied there was no God, you should have a very nice time of it\n     here and hereafter.\n\n     \"Then it was declared that I was a shrewd, practical man, perfectly\n     well 'posted up' in every thing that took place; knew how to make\n     investments and get very large returns,--unluckily it has not been\n     for myself that this has been true. And it was said that I\n     collected large headed, practical men to hear me, and that you were\n     a 'boisterous assembly.'\n\n     \"Then, that I was a learned man and gave learned discourses on\n     ecclesiastical history or political history,--things which have not\n     been found very attractive in the churches hitherto.\n\n     \"Again, that I was a philosopher, with a wise head, and taught men\n     theological metaphysics; and so a large company of men seemed all\n     at once smitten with a panic for metaphysics and abstract\n     preaching. It was never so before.\n\n     \"Next it was reported that I was a witty man, and shot nicely\n     feathered arrows very deftly into the mark; and that men came to\n     attend the sharp shooting of a wit.\n\n     \"Then there was a seventh thing,--that I was an eloquent man; and I\n     remember certain diatribes against the folly of filling churches\n     with eloquence.\n\n     \"Then again, it was charged against me that I was a philanthropist,\n     and taught the love of men, but did not teach at all the love of\n     God; and that men really loved to love one another, and so came.\n\n     \"Then it was thought that I was a sentimentalist, and tickled the\n     ears of 'weak women,' who came to delight themselves and be filled\n     full of poetry and love.\n\n     \"The real thing they did not seem to hit; that I preached an idea\n     of God, of man and of religion, which commended itself to the\n     nature of mankind.\"\n\nThe great preacher is always an idealist, and according to the fervor of\nhis idealism is he great. This was the source of Channing's power; it\nwas the charm of Emerson's. In reply to a friend who questioned her as\nto the nature of the benefits conferred on her by Mr. Emerson's\npreaching, Margaret Fuller wrote:\n\n     \"His influence has been more beneficial to me than that of any\n     American, and from him I first learned what is meant by an inward\n     life. Many other springs have since fed the stream of living\n     waters, but he first opened the fountain. That the 'mind is its own\n     place' was a dead phrase to me till he cast light upon my mind.\n     Several of his sermons stand apart in memory, like landmarks of my\n     spiritual history. It would take a volume to tell what this one\n     influence did for me.\"\n\nMr. Parker's ministry had three periods, in each of which the ideal\nelement was the attraction. The first was the period of quiet influence\nin West Roxbury, where the stream of his spiritual life flowed\npeacefully through green pastures, and enriched simple hearts with its\nunintermitted current. Accounts agree that at this time there was a soul\nof sweetness in his preaching, that was a good deal more than the body\nof its thought. The second was the period at the Boston Melodeon, the\nfirst of his experience before the crowd of a metropolis. This was the\ncontroversial epoch, and, from the nature of the case, was largely\npolemical and negative as towards the popular theology. But even then\nthe strain of spiritual faith was heard above the din of battle, and\nsouls that were averse to polemics were fed by the enthusiasm that came\nfrom the inner heights of aspiration. The last period was that of the\nMusic Hall--the famous period. Then the faith was defined and\nformulated; the corner-stones were hewn and set; the fundamental\npositions were announced with the fidelity of iteration that was\ncustomary with the \"painful preachers of the Word\" in churches where\npeople were duly stretched upon the Five Points of Calvin. The three\ncardinal attestations of the universal human consciousness--\n\n  The Absolute God,\n  The Moral Law,\n  The Immortal Life,\n\nwere asseverated with all the earnestness of the man, and declared to be\nthe constituent elements of the Rock of Ages.\n\nStanding on this tripod, Parker spoke as one having authority; he judged\nother creeds--Orthodox, Unitarian, Scientific--with the confidence of\none who felt that he had inspiration on his side. It was difficult for\nhim to understand how, without his faith, others could be happy. The\nbelievers in tradition seemed to him people who walked near precipices,\nleaning on broken reeds; the unbelievers were people who walked near the\nsame precipices, with bandaged eyes.\n\n     \"If to-morrow I am to perish utterly, then I shall only take\n     counsel for to-day, and ask for qualities which last no longer. My\n     fathers will be to me only as the ground out of which my bread-corn\n     is grown; dead, they are like the rotten mould of earth, their\n     memory of small concern to me. Posterity--I shall care nothing for\n     the future generations of mankind. I am one atom in the trunk of a\n     tree, and care nothing for the roots below or the branches above; I\n     shall sow such seed as will bear harvest to-day; I shall know no\n     higher law; passion enacts my statutes to-day; to-morrow ambition\n     revises the statutes, and these are my sole legislators; morality\n     will vanish, expediency take its place; heroism will be gone, and\n     instead of it there will be the brute valor of the he-wolf, the\n     brute-cunning of the she-fox, the rapacity of the vulture, and the\n     headlong daring of the wild bull; but the cool, calm courage which,\n     for truth's sake, and for love's sake, looks death firmly in the\n     face, and then wheels into line, ready to be slain--that will be a\n     thing no longer heard of.\"\n\n     \"The atheist sits down beside the coffin of his only child--a\n     rose-bud daughter, whose heart death slowly ate away; the pale\n     lilies of the valley which droop with fragrance above that lifeless\n     heart, are flowers of mockery to him, their beauty is a cheat; they\n     give not back his child, for whom the sepulchral monster opens his\n     remorseless jaws. The hopeless father looks down on the face of his\n     girl, silent--not sleeping, cold--dead.... He looks beyond--the\n     poor sad man--it is only solid darkness he looks on; no rainbow\n     beautifies that cloud; there is thunder in it, not light; night is\n     behind--without a star.\"\n\nThis is the way the Protestant Christians spoke of him; the\n\"Evangelicals\" spoke thus of the Unitarians; the believers in miraculous\nrevelations spoke thus of the rationalists. They that are sure always\nspeak so of those who, in their judgment, have no right to be sure at\nall.\n\nYet Parker had a hospitable mind, and his hospitality was due also to\nhis faith. The spiritual philosophy which maintained the identity in all\nmen of consciousness, and the eternal validity of its promises, which no\nerror or petulance could discredit, was indulgent to the unfortunates\nwho had not the satisfaction of its assurance. It pitied, but did not\nreproach them. They were children of God no less for being ignorant of\ntheir dignity. It was impossible for Parker to believe that rational\nbeings could be utterly insensible to the essential facts of their own\nnature. Their error, misconception, misconstruction, to whatever cause\ndue, could be no more than incidental. Skepticism might make wild work\nof definitions, but ultimate facts it could never disturb; these would\nthrust themselves up at last, as inevitably as the rocky substratum of\nthe globe presents itself in the green field. In a thanksgiving sermon\nhe thanked God that atheism could freely deliver its creed and prove\nthat it was folly. He was persuaded that the disbelievers believed\nbetter than they knew; in their paroxysms of denial, he saw the blind\nstruggles of faith; he gave the enemies of religion credit for qualities\nthat made their hostility look like a heroic protest against the\noutrages inflicted in the name of religion upon religion itself.\n\n     \"It is a fact of history, that in old time, from Epicurus to\n     Seneca, some of the ablest heads and best hearts of Greece and Rome\n     sought to destroy the idea of immortality. This was the reason:\n     they saw it was a torment to mankind; that the popular notion of\n     immortality was too bad to be true; and so they took pains to break\n     down the Heathen Mythology, though with it they destroyed the\n     notion of immortal life. They did a great service to mankind in\n     ridding us from this yoke of fear.\n\n     \"Many a philosopher has seemed without religion, even to a careful\n     observer--sometimes has passed for an atheist. Some of them have to\n     themselves seemed without any religion, and have denied that there\n     was any God; but all the while their nature was truer than their\n     will; their instinct kept their personal wholeness better than they\n     were aware. These men loved absolute truth, not for its uses, but\n     for itself; they laid down their lives for it, rather than violate\n     the integrity of their intellect. They had the intellectual love of\n     God, though they knew it not, though they denied it.\n\n     \"I have known philanthropists who undervalued piety; they liked it\n     not--they said it was moonshine, not broad day; it gave flashes of\n     lightning, all of which would not make light.... Yet underneath\n     their philanthropy there lay the absolute and disinterested love of\n     other men. They knew only the special form, not the universal\n     substance thereof.\n\n     \"Men of science, as a class, do not war on the truths, the goodness\n     and the piety that are taught as religion, only on the errors, the\n     evil, the impiety which bear its name. Science is the natural ally\n     of religion. Shall we try and separate what God has joined? We\n     injure both by the attempt. The philosophers of this age have a\n     profound love of truth, and show great industry and boldness in\n     search thereof. In the name of truth they pluck down the\n     strongholds of error--venerable and old.\n\n     \"All the attacks made on religion itself by men of science, from\n     Celsus to Feuerbach, have not done so much to bring religion into\n     contempt as a single persecution for witchcraft, or a Bartholomew\n     massacre made in the name of God.\"\n\nParker had human sympathies strong and deep, and could never have been\nindifferent to the pains and misery of his fellow creatures; yet these\nsympathies owed their persistency, their endurance, and their\nindomitable sweetness, to the spiritual faith which he professed. He had\na passionate head-strong nature; he knew the charm of pleasant looks,\ncongenial companions, elegant and luxurious circumstances. His love of\nleisure was keen; it was the desire of his life to enjoy the scholar's\nprivilege of uninterrupted hours, in the delicious seclusion of the\nlibrary. With a different philosophy he would have been a very different\nman. The creed he held made self-indulgence impossible.\n\n\"I have always taught,\" he said--in a sermon before quoted, the last he\npreached in the Melodeon--\"that the religious faculty is the natural\nruler in all the commonwealth of man; the importance of religion, and\nits commanding power in every relation of life. This is what I have\ncontinually preached, and some of you will remember that the first\nsermon I addressed to you was on this theme:--The absolute necessity of\nreligion for safely conducting the life of the individual, and the life\nof the State. You knew very well I did not begin too soon; yet I did not\nthen foresee that it would soon be denied in America, in Boston, that\nthere was any law higher than an Act of Congress.\" The allusion is to\nthe Fugitive Slave Bill then recently enacted, which brought to a close\nissue the controversy between the Abolitionists and the Government, and\nimposed on Mr. Parker and the rest who felt as he did, duties of\nwatchfulness and self-denial, that for years put to flight all thoughts\nof personal ease.\n\nHe continues:\n\n     \"Woman I have always regarded as the equal of man--more nicely\n     speaking, the equivalent of man; superior in some things, inferior\n     in some others; inferior in the lower qualities, in bulk of body\n     and bulk of brain; superior in the higher and nicer qualities--in\n     the moral power of conscience, the loving power of affection, the\n     religious power of the soul; equal on the whole, and of course\n     entitled to just the same rights as man; the same rights of mind,\n     body and estate; the same domestic, social, ecclesiastical, and\n     political rights as man, and only kept from the enjoyment of these\n     by might, not right; yet herself destined one day to acquire them\n     all.\"\n\nThe belief in the spiritual eminence of woman was part of the creed of\nthe Transcendentalist; it was intimately connected with his reverence\nfor interior, poetic, emotional natures; with his preference for feeling\nabove thought, of spontaneity above will. In the order of rank, Parker\nassigned the first place to the \"religious faculty,\" as he termed it,\nwhich gave immediate vision of spiritual truth; the second place was\ngiven to the affections; conscience he ranked below these; and lowest of\nall stood the intellect. The rational powers were held subordinate to\nthe instinctive, or rather the rational and the instinctive were held to\nbe coincident. The feminine characteristic being affection, which is\nspontaneous, and the masculine being intellect, which is not, the\nfeminine was set above the masculine--love above light, pity above\njustice, sympathy above rectitude, compassion above equity. Parker had\nfeminine attributes, and was slightly enamored of them; thought, or\ntried to think them the glory of his manhood; but the masculine greatly\npredominated in him. To people in general he seemed to reverse his own\norder, in practice. Weak, dependent, dreamy men he had no patience with;\nsentimentalism was his aversion; the moral element alone commanded his\nabsolute respect. Masculine women were equally distasteful; while he\nadmired the genius of Margaret Fuller, his personal attraction toward\nher seldom brought him into her society. That a man constituted as he\nwas, self-reliant to aggressiveness, inclined to be arbitrary,\ndogmatical, and imperious, of prodigious force of will and masterly\npower of conscience, entered as he did into advocacy of the rights of\nthe African and the prerogatives of woman, is evidence of the\nwhole-heartedness with which he adopted the transcendental philosophy.\nIt was, indeed, a faith to him, that ruled his life and appointed his\ncareer. It gave him his commission as prophet, reformer, philanthropist.\nIt was the consecrating oil that sanctified him, from the crown of his\nhead to the soles of his feet.\n\nParker believed in the gospel of Transcendentalism, and was fully\npersuaded that it was to be the gospel of the future. \"The religion I\npreach,\" he was accustomed to say, \"will be the religion of enlightened\nmen for the next thousand years.\" He anticipated an earthly immortality\nfor his thought, an extensive circulation of his books, a swift course\nfor his word, among the people. The expectation seemed not unreasonable\ntwenty years ago.\n\nThe prediction has not thus far been justified. Parker died in 1860, on\nthe eve of the civil war, which he prognosticated, sixteen years ago.\nThe war fairly ended, efforts were made to revive the prophet's memory\nand carry out the cherished purpose of his heart. But their ill success\nhas gone far to prove--what needed no evidence--that prophecies may\nfail, and tongues cease and knowledge pass away. The philosophy that\nParker combated and ridiculed and cast scorn at, declared to be\nself-refuted and self-condemned, has revived under a new name, as the\n\"philosophy of experience,\" is professed by the ablest thinkers of the\nday, taught in high places, in the name of science, set forth as the\nhope of man; the creeds he pronounced irrational, and fancied to be\nobsolete still hold nominal sway over the minds of men; the Christianity\nof the letter and the form is the only Christianity that is officially\nacknowledged; the gospel is an institution still, not a faith;\nrevivalism has the monopoly of religious enthusiasm; preaching is giving\nplace to lecturing; the pulpit has been taken down; science alone is\npermitted to speak with authority;--literature, journalism, politics,\ntrade, attract the young men that once sought the ministry; the noble\npreachers of a noble gospel are the few remaining idealists, who have\nkept the faith of their youth; they are growing old; one by one they\nleave their place, and there are none like them to fill it. Parker was\none of the last of the grand preachers who spoke with power, bearing\ncommission from the soul. The commissions which the soul issues are, for\nthe time being, discredited, and discredited they will be, so long as\nthe ideal philosophy is an outcast among men. Should that philosophy\nrevive, the days of great preaching will return with it. Bibles will be\nread and hymns sung, and sermons delivered to crowds from pulpits. The\nlyceum and the newspaper will occupy a subordinate position as means of\nsocial and moral influence, and the prophets will recover their waning\nreputation. Until then, the work they did when living must attest their\ngreatness with such as can estimate it at its worth.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE MAN OF LETTERS.\n\n\nThe man who was as influential as any in planting the seeds of the\ntranscendental philosophy in good soil, and in showing whither its\nprinciples tended, is known now, and has from the first been known,\nchiefly as a man of letters, a thoughtful observer, a careful student\nand a serious inquirer after knowledge. George Ripley, one year older\nthan Emerson, was one of the forerunners and prophets of the new\ndispensation. He was by temperament as well as by training, a scholar, a\nreader of books, a discerner of opinions, a devotee of ideas. A mind of\nsuch clearness and serenity, accurate judgment, fine taste, and rare\nskill in the use of language, written and spoken, was of great value in\nintroducing, defining and interpreting the vast, vague thoughts that\nwere burning in the minds of speculative men. He was one of the first in\nAmerica to master the German language; and, his bent of mind being\nphilosophical and theological, he became a medium through which the\nFrench and German thought found its way to New England. He was an\nimporter, reader and lender of the new books of the living Continental\nthinkers. His library contained a rich collection of works in\nphilosophy, theology, hermeneutics, criticism of the Old and New\nTestaments, and divinity in its different branches of dogmatics and\nsentiment. He was intimate with N. L. Frothingham and Convers Francis,\nthe admirable scholar, the hospitable and independent thinker, the\nenthusiastic and humane believer, the centre and generous distributor of\ncopious intellectual gifts to all who came within his reach. Theodore\nParker was the intellectual product of these two men, Convers Francis\nand George Ripley. The former fed his passion for knowledge; the latter,\nat the period of his life in the divinity school, gave direction to his\nthought. The books that did most to determine the set of Parker's mind\nwere taken from Mr. Ripley's library. For a considerable time, in\nParker's early ministry, they were close and thoroughly congenial\nfriends. They walked and talked together; made long excursions; attended\nconventions; were members of the same club or coterie; joined in the\ndiscussions at which Emerson, Channing, Hedge, Clark, Alcott took part;\nand, though parted, in after life, by circumstances which appointed them\nto different spheres of labor,--one in Boston, the other in New\nYork,--they continued to the end, constant and hearty well wishers. At\nthe close of his life, Parker expressed a hope that Ripley might be his\nbiographer.\n\nMr. Ripley prepared for the ministry at the Cambridge divinity school;\nin 1826 accepted a call to be pastor and preacher of the church,\norganized but eighteen months before, and within two months worshipping\nin their new meeting-house on Purchase street, Boston. The ordination\ntook place on Wednesday, Nov. 8th, of the same year. \"Under his\ncharge,\" said his successor, Rev. J. I. T. Coolidge, in 1848, \"the\nsociety grew from very small beginnings to strength and prosperity. As a\npreacher, he awakened the deepest interest, and as a devoted pastor, the\nwarmest affection, which still survives, deep and strong, in the hearts\nof those who were the objects of his counsel and pastoral care. After\nthe lapse of almost fifteen years, the connection was dissolved, for\nreasons which affected not the least the relations of friendship and\nmutual respect between the parties. It has been a great satisfaction to\nme, as I have passed in and out among you, to hear again and again the\nexpressions of love and interest with which you remember the ministry of\nyour first servant in this church.\" That this was not merely the formal\ntribute which the courtesies of the profession exacted, is proved, as\nwell as such a thing can be proved, by the published correspondence\nbetween the pastor and his people, by the frank declarations of the\npastor in his farewell address, and by a remarkable letter, which\ndiscussed in full the causes that led to the separation of the pastor\nand his flock. In this long and candid letter to the church, Mr. Ripley\ndeclared himself a Transcendentalist, and avowed his sympathy with\nmovements larger than the Christian Church represented.\n\nThe declaration was hardly necessary. Mr. Ripley was known to be the\nwriter of the review of Martineau's \"Rationale of Religious Enquiry,\"\nwhich raised such heated controversy; his translation of Cousin's\n\"Philosophical Miscellanies,\" with its important Introduction, had\nattracted the attention of literary circles; a volume of discourses,\nentitled \"Discourses on the Philosophy of Religion,\" comprising seven\nsermons delivered in the regular course of his ministry, left no doubt\nin any mind respecting his position. The controversy with Andrews Norton\non \"The Latest Form of Infidelity,\" was carried on in 1840, the year\nbefore Mr. Ripley's ministry ended. The calmness of tone that\ncharacterized all these writings, the clearness and serenity of\nstatement, the seemingly easy avoidance of extremes, the absence of\npassion, showed the supremacy of intellect over feeling. Yet of feeling\nthere must have been a good deal. There was a great deal in the\ncommunity; there was a great deal among the clergy of his denomination;\nthat it had found expression within his own society, is betrayed in the\nfarewell sermon; that his own heart was deeply touched, was confessed by\nthe fact that on the very day after his parting words to his\ncongregation were spoken--on March 29th, 1841--Mr. Ripley took up his\nnew ministry at Brook Farm.\n\nThe character of that Association has been described in a previous\nchapter, with as much minuteness of detail as is necessary, and the\npurposes of its inaugurators have been sufficiently indicated. The\nfounder of it was not a \"doctrinaire,\" but a philanthropist on ideal\nprinciples. With the systems of socialism current in Paris, he was at\nthat period wholly unacquainted. The name of Charles Fourier was\nunfamiliar to him. He had faith in the soul, and in the soul's prophecy\nof good; he saw that the prophecy was unheeded, that society rested on\nprinciples which the soul abhorred; that between the visions of the\nspiritual philosophy and the bitter realities of vice, misery, sin, in\nhuman life, there was an unappeasable conflict; and he was resolved to\ndo what one man might to create a new earth in preparation for a new\nheaven. He took the Gospel at its word, and went forth to demonstrate\nthe power of its principles, by showing the Beatitudes to be something\nmore substantial than dreams. His costly library, with all its beloved\nbooks, was offered for sale at public auction, and the price thereof,\nwith whatever else he possessed, was consecrated to the cause of\nhumanity that he had at heart. He had no children, and few ties of\nkindred; but the social position of the clergy was above any secular\nposition in New England at that time; the prejudices and antipathies of\nthe clerical order were stubborn; the leaders of opinion in state and\nchurch were conservative, to a degree it is difficult for us to believe;\nthe path of the reformer was strewn with thorns and beset with\ndifficulties most formidable to sensitive spirits. Mr. Emerson had\nresigned his ministry nine years before, and for the reason too that he\nwas a Transcendentalist, but had retired to the peaceful walks of\nliterature, and had made no actual assault on social institutions. Mr.\nRipley associated himself at once with people of no worldly\nconsideration, avowed principles that were voted vulgar in refined\ncircles, and identified himself with an enterprise which the amiable\ncalled visionary, and the unamiable wild and revolutionary. But his\nconviction was clear, and his will was fixed. Sustained by the entire\nsympathy of a very noble woman, his wife--who was one with him in\naspiration, purpose, and endeavor, till the undertaking ended--he put\n\"the world\" behind him, sold all, and followed the Master.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Ripley were the life of the Brook Farm Association. Their\nunfaltering energy, unfailing cheer, inexhaustible sweetness and gayety,\navailed to keep up the tone of the institution, to prevent its becoming\ncommon-place, and to retain there the persons on whose character the\nmoral and intellectual standard depended. It was due to them that the\nexperiment was tried as long as it was--six years;--that while it went\non, it avoided, as it did, the usual scandal and reproach that bring\nruin on schemes of that description; and that, when finally it ended in\ndisaster, it commanded sympathy rather than contempt, and left a sweet\nmemory behind. The originator was the last to leave the place of his\ntoil and vain endeavor; he left it, having made all necessary provision\nfor the discharge of debts, which only through arduous labors in\njournalism he was able afterwards to pay.\n\nIn Mr. Ripley's mind the Idea was supreme. In 1844 he, with Mr. Dana and\nMr. Channing, lectured and spoke on the principles of Association,--the\nforeign literature on the subject being more familiar to him\nthen,--commended the doctrine of Fourier, and was prepared for a more\nsympathetic propagandism than he had meditated hitherto. In 1845, the\n\"Harbinger\" was started,--a weekly journal, devoted to Social and\nPolitical Progress; published by the Brook Farm Phalanx. The\nProspectus, written by Mr. Ripley, made this announcement: \"The\nprinciples of universal unity taught by Charles Fourier in their\napplication to society, we believe are at the foundation of all genuine\nsocial progress; and it will ever be our aim to discuss and defend those\nprinciples without any sectarian bigotry, and in the catholic and\ncomprehensive spirit of their great discoverer.\" An introductory notice\nby the same pen, among other things pertaining to the aims and\nintentions of the paper, contained this passage:\n\n     \"The interests of Social Reform will be considered as paramount to\n     all others in whatever is admitted into the pages of the\n     \"Harbinger.\" We shall suffer no attachment to literature, no taste\n     for abstract discussion, no love of purely intellectual theories,\n     to seduce us from our devotion to the cause of the oppressed, the\n     down trodden, the insulted and injured masses of our fellow men.\n     Every pulsation of our being vibrates in sympathy with the wrongs\n     of the toiling millions; and every wise effort for their speedy\n     enfranchisement will find in us resolute and indomitable advocates.\n     If any imagine from the literary tone of the preceding remarks that\n     we are indifferent to the radical movement for the benefit of the\n     masses which is the crowning glory of the nineteenth century, they\n     will soon discover their egregious mistake. To that movement,\n     consecrated by religious principle, sustained by an awful sense of\n     justice, and cheered by the brightest hopes of future good, all our\n     powers, talents, and attainments are devoted. We look for an\n     audience among the refined and educated circles, to which the\n     character of our paper will win its way; but we shall also be read\n     by the swart and sweaty artisan; the laborer will find in us\n     another champion; and many hearts struggling with the secret hope\n     which no weight of care and toil can entirely suppress, will pour\n     on us their benedictions, as we labor for the equal rights of all.\"\n\nIn the four years of its existence, the paper was faithful to this grand\nand high sounding promise. A powerful company of writers contributed\ntheir labor to help forward the plan. The Journal was affluent and\nsparkling. The literary criticism was the work of able pens; the musical\nand art criticism was in the hands of the most competent judges in the\ncountry; the aesthetics were not neglected; the verse was excellent; but\nthe social questions were of first consideration. These were never\ntreated slightingly, and the treatment of them never deviated from the\nhigh standard proposed by the editors. The list of its contributors\ncontained the names of Stephen Pearl Andrews, Albert Brisbane, W. H.\nChanning, W. E. Channing, Walter Channing, James Freeman Clarke, Geo. H.\nCalvert, J. J. Cooke, A. J. H. Duganne, C. P. Cranch, Geo. W. Curtis,\nCharles A. Dana, J. S. Dwight, Horace Greeley, Parke Godwin, F. H.\nHedge, T. W. Higginson, M. E. Lazarus, J. R. Lowell, Osborn Macdaniel,\nGeo. Ripley, S. D. Robbins, L. W. Ryckman, F. G. Shaw, W. W. Story,\nHenry James, John G. Whittier, J. J. G. Wilkinson--a most remarkable\ncollection of powerful names.\n\nThe departments seem not to have been systematically arranged, but the\nwriters sent what they had, the same writer furnishing articles on a\nvariety of topics. Mr. F. G. Shaw published, in successive numbers, an\nadmirable translation of George Sand's \"Consuelo,\" and wrote against the\niniquities of the principle of competition in trade. C. A. Dana noticed\nbooks, reported movements, criticized men and measures, translated\npoetry from the German, and sent verses of a mystical and sentimental\ncharacter of his own. C. P. Cranch contributed poems and criticisms on\nart and music. J. S. Dwight paid attention to the musical department,\nbut also wrote book reviews and articles on the social problem. W. H.\nChanning poured out his burning soul in denunciation of social wrong and\npainted in glowing colors the promise of the future. G. W. Curtis sent\npoetry and notes on literature and music in New York. T. W. Higginson\nprinted there his \"Hymn of Humanity.\" Messrs. Brisbane, Godwin and\nGreeley confined themselves to social problems, doing a large part of\nthe heavy work. Mr. Ripley, the Managing Editor, supervised the whole;\nwrote much himself on the different aspects of Association; reported the\nprogress of the cause at home and abroad; answered the objections that\nwere current in the popular prejudice, and gave to the paper the\nencouraging tone of his cheery, earnest spirit.\n\nAs interpreted by the \"Harbinger,\" the cause of Association was\nhospitable and humane. The technicalities of special systems were\navoided; dry discussions of theory and method were put aside; generous\nsympathy was shown towards philanthropic workers in other fields; the\ntone of wailing was never heard, and the anticipations of the future\nwere steadily bright and bold. When reformers of a pronounced type, like\nthe abolitionists, spoke of it slightingly as a \"kid glove\" journal that\nwas afraid of soiling its fingers with ugly matters like slavery, the\nAssociationists explained that their plan was the more comprehensive;\nthat they struck at the root of every kind of slavery; and that the\nworst evils would disappear when their beneficent principle should be\nrecognized. That the \"Harbinger\" should have lived no longer than it\ndid, with such a corps of writers and so great a cause,--the last number\nis dated February 10, 1849,--may be accounted for by the feeble hold\nthat Socialism had in this country. In Europe the hearts of the working\npeople were in it. It originated among them, expressed their actual\nsorrows, answered their living questions, promised satisfaction to their\nwants, and predicted the only future they could imagine as in any way\npossible. Here it was an imported speculation; the working people were\nnot driven to it for refuge from their misery; they did not ask the\nquestions it proposed to answer, nor did it hold out prospects that\ngladdened their eyes. The advocates of it were cultivated men, literary\nand aesthetical, who represented the best the old world had to give,\nrather than the worst the New World had experienced; and their words met\nwith no response from the multitudes in whose behoof they were spoken.\nAmerica was exercised then by questions of awful moment. The agitation\nagainst slavery had taken hold of the whole country; it was in politics,\nin journalism, in literature, in the public hall and the parlor. Its\nissues were immediate and urgent. People had neither heads nor hearts\nfor schemes of comprehensive scope that must be patiently meditated and\nmatured for generations. No talents, no brilliancy, no earnestness even,\nwould engage interest in what seemed visionary, however glorious the\nvision. The socialistic enterprises in America were all short lived.\nBrook Farm was an idyl; and in the days of epics, the idyl is easily\nforgotten.\n\nThe decease of the \"Harbinger\" was the end of that phase of\nTranscendentalism. The dream of the kingdom of heaven faded. The\napostles were dispersed. Some kept their faith and showed their fidelity\nin other places and other work. Three or four went into the Roman\nChurch, and found rest on its ancient bosom. Others found a field for\ntheir talents in literature, which they beautified with their genius,\nand ennobled by their ideas. Others devoted themselves to journalism. Of\nthe last was George Ripley. _The New York Tribune_ offered him the post\nof literary critic on its editorial staff. That position he has occupied\nfor twenty-five years, in a way honorable to himself and to good\nletters. It has been in his power to aid the development of literature\nin America, in many ways, by encouraging young writers; by giving\ndirection to ambitious but immature gifts; by erecting a standard of\njudgment, high, without being unreasonable, and strict, without being\naustere. A large acquaintance with books, a cultivated taste, a\nhospitable appreciation, a hearty love of good literary work, a cordial\ndislike of bad, a just estimation of the rights and duties of literary\nmen, and the office they should fill in a republican community, have\nmarked his administration of the department assigned to him. He has held\nit to be his duty to make intelligent reports of current literature,\nwith enough of criticism to convey his own opinion of its character,\nwithout dictating opinions to others. Worthless books received their\ndue, and worthy books received theirs in full measure. The books in\nwhich worth and worthlessness were united were discriminatingly handled,\nthe emphasis being laid on the better qualities. Many of the reviews\nwere essays, full of discernment. All showed that respect for mind which\nmight be expected from one so carefully trained.\n\nMr. Ripley has been true to the ideas with which he set out in his early\nlife. His period of philosophical propagandism being over; his young\nenthusiasm having spent itself in experiments which trial proved to be\npremature, to say the least, if not essentially impracticable; his\ndreams having faded, when his efforts ended in disappointment, he\nretired from public view neither dispirited, nor morose. His interest in\nphilosophy continues undiminished; his hope of man, though more subdued,\nis clear; his faith in the spiritual basis of religion is serene.\nDisappointment has not made him bitter, reckless or frivolous. His power\nof moral indignation at wrong and turpitude is unimpaired, though it no\nlonger breaks out with the former vehemence. A cheerful wisdom gained by\nthought and experience of sorrow, tempers his judgment of men and\nmeasures. His confidence is in culture, in literature, generously\ninterpreted and fostered, in ideas honestly entertained and freely\nexpressed.\n\nThe Transcendentalist keeps his essential faith. Generally the\nTranscendentalists have done this. It was a faith too deeply planted,\ntoo nobly illustrated, too fervent and beautiful in youth, to be laid\naside in age. James Walker died in the ripeness of it; Parker died in\nthe strength of it; others--old and grave men now--live in the joy of\nit. The few who have relapsed, have done so, some under pressure of\nworldly seduction--they having no depth of root--and some under the\ninfluence of scientific teaching, which has shaken the foundation of\ntheir psychology. The original disciples, undismayed by the signs of\ndeath, still believe in the Master, and live in the hope of his\nresurrection.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nMINOR PROPHETS.\n\n\nThe so-called Minor Prophets of the Old Testament owed that designation\nto the brevity, rather than to the insignificance of their utterances.\nThey were among the most glowing and exalted of the Hebrew bards, less\nsustained in their flight than their great fellows, but with as much of\nthe ancient fire as any of them. It is proper to say as much as this to\njustify the application of the title to the men who claim mention now as\nprominent in the transcendental movement.\n\nWilliam Henry Channing is not quite fairly ranked among minor prophets,\neven on this explanation, for he has been copious as well as intense. A\nnephew of the great Doctor Channing--a favorite nephew, on account of\nhis moral earnestness, and the close sympathy he felt with views that\ndid honor to human nature and glorified the existence of man,--he grew\nup in the purest atmosphere that New England supplied--the most\nintellectual, the most quickening. He was born in the same year with\nTheodore Parker, and but three months earlier, and was native to the\nsame spiritual climate. He was educated at Harvard, and prepared for the\nministry at Cambridge Divinity School, where the new ideas were\nfermenting. He was graduated the year before Parker entered. His name\nwas conspicuous among the agitators of the new faith. He was a\ncontributor to the \"Dial.\" In 1848 he published the Memoirs of his\nuncle, in three volumes, proving his fitness for the task by the\nsincerity in which he discharged it. In 1840 he translated Jouffroy's\nEthics, in two volumes, for Ripley's \"Specimens of Foreign Standard\nLiterature.\" In 1852 he took part in writing the Memoirs of Margaret\nFuller, the second volume being chiefly his work. \"The Life and Writings\nof James H. Perkins,\" of Cincinnati, a pioneer of rationalism at the\nWest, came more fitly from his pen than from any other. In the \"Western\nMessenger,\" which he edited for one year; the \"Present,\" and the \"Spirit\nof the Age,\" short-lived journals, of which he was the soul; in the\n\"Harbinger,\" to which he was a generous and sympathetic contributor--he\nexhibited a fine quality of genius. The intensity of his nature, his\nopen-mindedness, frankness, and spiritual sensitiveness, his fervency of\naspiration and his outspokenness, made the office of settled pastor and\nsteady routine preacher distasteful to him. He was a prophet who went\nfrom place to place, with a message of joy and hope. Meadville,\nCincinnati, Nashua, Rochester, Boston, and New York, were scenes of his\npastoral service. His preaching was every where attended by the clearest\nheads and the deepest hearts. In New York his society was composed of\nfree elements altogether, come-outers, reformers, radicals of every\ndescription. His command of language, his free delivery, his musical\nvoice, his expressive countenance, his noble air, his extraordinary\npower of kindling enthusiasm, his affluence and boldness of thought, his\nhigh standard of character, made him in his prime an enchanting speaker.\n\nVery early in his career Mr. Channing committed himself to the\ntranscendental philosophy as interpreted by the French School, for he\npossessed the swiftness of perception, the felicity of exposition, the\nsensibility to effects, the passion for clean statement and plausible\ngeneralization that distinguish the French genius from the German and\nthe English. The introduction to Jouffroy's Ethics contained the\nprinciples of the French school of philosophy, which, to judge from his\napproving tone, he had himself accepted:\n\nThat Psychology is the basis of Philosophy.\n\nThat the highest problems of Ontology may be solved by inductions from\nthe facts which Psychology ascertains.\n\nThat Psychology and the History of Philosophy reciprocally explain each\nother.\n\nWith these ideas firmly fixed in his mind he went forth on a prophetic\nmission, to which he remained unfalteringly true.\n\nWe saw him first at a convention in Boston called by the reformers who\ndemanded the abolition of the gallows. There were several\nspeakers--Edwin H. Chapin, then in the days of his moral enthusiasm,\nWendell Phillips, already known as an agitator and an orator--all spoke\nwell from their different grounds, but the image of Channing is the most\ndistinct in mind to-day. His manner, attitude, speech, are all\nrecalled. The arguments he used abide in memory. He wasted words on no\nincidental points of detail, but at once took his stand on the principle\nof the idealist that man is a sacred being, and life a sacred gift, and\nlove the rule of the divine law. Chapin thundered; Phillips criticized\nand stung; Channing burned with a pure enthusiasm that lifted souls into\na celestial air and made all possibilities of justice seem practicable.\nHe did not argue or denounce; he prophesied. There was not a word of\nscorn or detestation; but there were passages of touching power,\ndescribing the influence of gentleness and the response that the hardest\nhearts would give to it, that shamed the listeners out of their\nvindictiveness. On the anti-slavery platform his attitude was the same.\nThere was no more persuasive speaker.\n\nIn the controversy between the Unitarians of the transcendental and\nthose of the opposite school, Mr. Channing's sympathies were with the\nformer, but he took no very prominent public part in it. He was averse\nto controversy; questions of sectarian opinion and organization had\nlittle interest for him. His mind lived in broad principles and positive\nideas; the method he believed in was that of winning minds to the truth\nby generous appeals, and so planting out error. Against everything like\ninjustice or illiberality, his protest was eager, but he was willing to\nleave polemics to others; what he said was in the strain of faith in\nlarger and more inclusive beliefs. He had a passion for catholicity,\nwhich came partly from his temperament, and partly from the eclecticism\nhe professed. His word was reconciling, like his influence, which was\nnever associated with partisanship.\n\nMr. Channing was early attracted to the bearings of the spiritual\nphilosophy on the problems of society, the elevation of the working\nclasses, the rescue of humanity from pauperism and crime. As an\ninterpreter of Christian socialism his activity was incessant. He took\npart in the discussions that led to the experiment of Brook Farm, and\nwas acquainted intimately with the projecting of it, having himself\nentire faith in the reorganization of society on principles of equity.\nHad circumstances permitted--he was then minister to a church in\nCincinnati, and much occupied with professional duties--he would have\nconnected himself with the Brook Farm Association. As it was, he visited\nit whenever he could, spending several days at a time. In 1844, when the\nunion was formed with the New York Socialists and the leaders went out\nto enlighten and stimulate public sentiment on the subject, Mr. Channing\ndid faithful work as a lecturer. He was president of the Boston Union of\nAssociationists, and wrote a book on the Christian Church and Moral\nReform. From the first, being of a speculative, philosophical and\nexperimental turn of mind, he entertained more systematic views than\nwere common among New England socialists, but the principle of love was\nalways more to him than opinions or schemes. His views coincided with\nFourier, but his heart was Christian. On the failure of the associated\nplans of his friends, and the cessation of interest in Socialism on this\nside of the Atlantic, his thoughts turned towards the Christian Church\nas the providentially appointed means of obtaining what the Utopians had\nfailed of reaching. He was never a Churchman; never abandoned the views\nthat made him an independent preacher; but he never lost faith in the\nministry; his hopes turned toward the institutions of religion as having\nin them the ideal potencies he trusted; he looked for faith and love in\nthe Gospel, and sought to draw out the lessons of charity that were\ninculcated by Jesus; to deliver these from the hands of the formalists\nand sectarians; to make peace between parties and churches; to discover\ncommon ground for all believers to stand and labor on--was his aim. Had\nhis faith not been inclusive of all forms of the religious sentiment, he\nmight, in England, where he resided so long, have been a\nbroad-churchman. But Christianity, in his view, was but one of many\nreligions, all essentially divine, and he could not belong to any church\nless wide than the church universal.\n\nDuring a portion of the civil war, Mr. Channing was in Washington\npreaching the gospel of liberty and loyalty, and laboring in the\nhospitals with unflagging devotion, thankful for an opportunity to put\ninto work the enthusiasm of his passionate soul. Later, he revisited his\nnative country, and showed his interest in the cause of religious\nfreedom and unity.\n\nThe name of Channing is conspicuous in the history of American idealism.\nAnother nephew of Dr. Channing, William Ellery Channing,--a man of\noriginal force of mind and character, a bold adventurer in literature\nand life, of independent ideas, principles and deeds, an abolitionist,\na friend of Garrison and Parker, reformer and philosopher, author of\nmany volumes--wrote poetry and prose for the \"Dial\" and, in 1873, a life\nof Henry Thoreau.\n\nIn the list of the Transcendentalists Cyrus Augustus Bartol must not be\nforgotten, a soaring mind enamored of thoughts on divine things,\ninextricably caught in the toils of speculation. Acute and brilliant,\nbut wayward; with a quick eye for analogies, fanciful and eccentric, of\nclear intuitions, glimpses, perceptions astonishingly luminous; but\nwithout fixed allegiance to system, and therefore difficult to classify\nunder any school. In the Unitarian controversy, which was a tryer of\nspirits, it was not always plain to observers in which camp he belonged;\nnot that his fundamental principle was unsteady, but because his curious\nand critical mind was detained by considerations that others did not\nsee; and his absolute sincerity gave expression to the moods of feeling\nas they passed over him. Some words in Parker's farewell letter to him\nseem to imply that at critical junctures they had been on opposite\nsides, but the difference could scarcely have touched fundamental\ntruths. No man was further from the school of Locke, Paley or Bentham\nthan C. A. Bartol. His Transcendentalism had a cast of its own; it was\nnot made after any pattern; it took its color from an original genius\nilluminated by various reading of books, and by deep meditation in the\nprivacy of the closet, and the companionship of nature of which he is a\nchild-like worshipper. No wealth of human sympathy prevents his being a\nsolitary. His song is lyrical; his prophecy drops like a voice from the\nclouds. In the agitations of his time he has had small share; organized\nand associated effort did not attract him. To many he represents the\nmodel Transcendentalist, for he seems a man who lives above the\nclouds,--not always _above_ them, either.\n\nHis faith in the soul has never known eclipse. It waxes strong by its\nwrestling, and becomes jubilant in proportion as nature and life try to\nstare it out of countenance. Ballast is wings to him.\n\n     \"Transcendentalism relies on those ideas in the mind which are laws\n     in the life. Pantheism is said to sink man and nature in God;\n     Materialism to sink God and man in nature, and Transcendentalism to\n     sink God and nature in man. But the Transcendentalist at least is\n     belied and put in jail by the definition which is so neat at the\n     expense of truth. He made consciousness, not sense, the ground of\n     truth; and in the present devotion to physical science, and turn of\n     philosophy to build the universe on foundations of matter, we need\n     to vindicate and reassert his promise. Is the soul reared on the\n     primitive rock? or is no rock primitive, but the deposit of\n     spirit--therefore in its lowest form alive, and ever rising into\n     organism to reach the top of the eternal circle again, as in the\n     well one bucket goes down empty and the other rises full? The\n     mistake is to make the everlasting things subjects of argument\n     instead of sight.\"\n\n     \"Our soul is older than our organism. It precedes its clothing. It\n     is the cause, not the consequence, of its material elements; else,\n     as materialists understand, it does not exist.\"\n\n     \"What is it that accepts misery from the Most High, defends the\n     Providence that inflicts its woes, espouses its chastiser's cause,\n     purges itself in the pit of its misery of all contempt of His\n     commands, and makes its agonies the beams and rafters of the\n     triumph it builds? It is an immortal principle. It is an\n     indestructible essence. It is part and parcel of the Divinity it\n     adores. It can no more die than he can. It needs no more insurance\n     of life than its author does. Prove its title? It is proof itself\n     of all things else. It is substantive, and everything adjective\n     beside. It is the kingdom all things will be added to.\"\n\nThis was published in 1872, and proves that one Transcendentalist has\nkept his faith.\n\nJames Freeman Clarke as little deserves to be ranked among the Minor\nProphets as any, for he was one of the earliest Transcendentalists, a\ncontemporary and intimate ally of Parker, a co-worker with Channing, a\nclose friend and correspondent of Miss Fuller, a sympathizer with Alcott\nin his attempts to spiritualize education, a frequent contributor to the\n\"Dial,\" the intellectual fellow of the brilliant minds that made the\nepoch what it was. But his interest was not confined to the school, nor\ndid the technicalities or details of the transcendental movement\nembarrass him; his catholic mind took in opinions of all shades, and men\nof all communions. His place is among theologians and divines rather\nthan among philosophers. But, though churchly tastes led him away from\nthe company of thinkers where he intellectually belonged, and an\nunfailing common sense saved him from the extravagances into which some\nof them fell, a Transcendentalist he was, and an uncompromising one. The\nintuitive philosophy was his guide. It gave him his assurance of\nspiritual truths; it interpreted for him the gospels and Jesus; it\ninspired his endeavors to reconcile beliefs, to promote unity among the\ndiscordant sects, to enlighten and redeem mankind. His mission has been\nthat of a spiritual peace-maker. But while doing this, he has worked\nfaithfully at particular causes; was an avowed and earnest abolitionist\nin the anti-slavery days; was ever a disbeliever in war, an enemy of\nvindictive and violent legislation, a hearty friend and laborer in the\nfield of woman's election to the full privileges of culture and\ncitizenship; a man in whom faith, hope and charity abounded and abound;\na man of intellectual convictions which made a groundwork for his life.\n\nMr. Clarke is a conspicuous example of the way in which the intuitive\nphilosophy leavened the whole mind. It associated him closely both with\nradicals and conservatives; with the former, because his principle\ninvolved faith in progress; with the latter, because it implied respect\nfor the progress of past times which institutions preserved. His\nconservatism attested the fidelity of his radicalism, and both avouched\nthe loyalty of his idealism. The conservative aspect of\nTranscendentalism which was exhibited in the case of Mr. Channing, who\nnever left the Christian Church, was yet more strikingly illustrated by\nMr. Clarke. All his books, but particularly the \"Ten Great Religions,\"\nshow the power of the transcendental idea to render justice to all forms\nof faith, and give positive interpretations to doctrines obscure and\nrevolting. It detects the truth in things erroneous, the good in things\nevil.\n\nA more remarkable instance of this tendency is Samuel Johnson's volume\non the religions of India. None save a Transcendentalist could have\nsucceeded in extracting so much deep spiritual meaning from the symbols\nand practices of those ancient faiths. The intuitive idea takes its\nposition at the centre, and at once all blazes with glory.\n\n     \"Man is divinely prescient of his infinity of mind as soon as he\n     begins to meditate and respire.\"\n\n     \"That a profound theistic instinct, the intuition of a divine and\n     living whole, is involved in the primitive mental processes we are\n     here studying, I hold to be beyond all question.\"\n\n     \"From the first stages of its growth onwards, the spirit weaves its\n     own environment; nature is forever the reflex of its life, and what\n     but an unquenchable aspiration to truth could have made it choose\n     Light as its first and dearest symbol, reaching out a child's hand\n     to touch and clasp it, with the joyous cry, 'Tis mine, mine to\n     create, mine to adore!'\"\n\n     \"Man could not forget that pregnant dawn of revelation, the\n     discovery of his own power to rekindle the life of the universe.\"\n\n     \"Man is here dimly aware of the truth that he makes and remakes his\n     own conception of the divine; that the revealing of duty must come\n     in the natural activity of his human powers.\"\n\n     \"As far back as we can trace the life of man, we find the river of\n     prayer and praise flowing as naturally as it is flowing now; we\n     cannot find its beginning, because we cannot find the beginning of\n     the soul.\"\n\nThese passages give the key to Mr. Johnson's explanation of the oriental\nreligions, and to his little monograph on \"The Worship of Jesus,\" and to\nthe printed lectures, addresses, essays, sermons, in which subjects of\nreligion, philosophy, political and social reform have been profoundly\ntreated.\n\nMr. Johnson came forward when the excitement of transcendentalism was\npassing by; the \"Dial\" no longer marked the intellectual hours; the\nUnitarian controversy had spent its violence. It was in part owing to\nthis, but more to the spiritual character of his genius, that his\nTranscendentalism was free from polemic and dogmatic elements; but it\nwas none the less positive and definite for that--if anything, it was\nmore so. In the divinity school he was an ardent disciple of the\nintuitive philosophy. On leaving Cambridge he became an independent\nminister of the most pronounced views, but of most reverent spirit; a\n\"fideist\" or faith man, he loved to call himself; his aim and effort was\nto awaken the spiritual nature, to interpret the spiritual philosophy,\nand to apply the spiritual laws to all personal, domestic and social\nconcerns. Like all the Transcendentalists, he was a reformer, and an\nenthusiastic one; interested in liberty and progress, but primarily in\nintellectual emancipation and the increase of rational ideas. The\nalteration of the lot was incidental to the regeneration of the person.\nSo absolute is his faith in the soul that he renders poetic justice to\nits manifestations, seeing indications of its presence where others see\nnone, and glorifying where others are inclined to pity. The ideal side\nis never turned away from him. He discerned the angel in the native\nAfrican, the saint in the slave, the devotee in the idolater. During the\ncivil war, his faith in the triumph of justice and the establishment of\na pure republic, converted every defeat into a victory; as in the vision\nof Ezekiel, the Son of Man was ever visible riding on the monstrous\nbeasts. If at any time his sympathy has seemed withdrawn from any class\nof social reformers, it has been because the phase of reform they\npresented held forth no promise of intellectual or moral benefit.\n\nMr. Johnson illustrates the individualism of the Transcendentalist.\nWhile Mr. Channing trusted in social combinations, and Mr. Clarke put\nhis faith in organized religion, he had a clear eye to the integrity of\nthe separate soul. He attended no conventions, joined no societies,\nworked with no associations, had confidence in no parties, sects,\nschemes, or combinations, but nursed his solitary thought, delivered his\npersonal message, bore his private witness, and there rested.\n\nWere Mr. Johnson more known, were his thoughts less interior, his genius\nless retiring, his method less private, his form of statement less close\nand severe, he would be one of the acknowledged and conspicuous leaders\nof the ideal philosophy in the United States, as he is one of the most\ndiscerning, penetrating, sinewy, and heroic minds of his generation.\n\nA contemporary and intimate friend of Johnson, a Transcendentalist\nequally positive, but of more mystical type, is Samuel Longfellow. The\ntwo are interestingly contrasted, and by contrast, blended. Between them\nthey collected and published a book of hymns--\"Hymns of the Spirit\"--to\nwhich both contributed original pieces, remarkably rich in sentiment,\nand of singular poetical merit. Johnson's were the more intellectual,\nLongfellow's the more tender; Johnson's the more aspiring, Longfellow's\nthe more devout; Johnson's the more heroic and passionate, Longfellow's\nthe more mystical and reflective. Like his friend, Longfellow is quiet\nand retiring--not so scholarly, not so learned, but meditative. His\nsermons are lyrics; his writings are serene contemplations, not white\nand cold, but glowing with interior and suppressed radiance. A recluse\nand solitary he is, too, though sunny and cheerful; a thinker, but not a\ndry one; of intellectual sympathies, warm and generous; of feeble\nintellectual antipathies, being rather unconscious of systems that are\nforeign to him than hostile to them. He enjoys his own intellectual\nworld so much, it is so large, rich, beautiful, and satisfying, that he\nis content to stay in it, to wander up and down in it, and hold\nintercourse with its inhabitants; yet he understands his own system\nwell, is master of its ideas, and abundantly competent to defend them,\nas his essays published in the \"Radical\" during its short existence,\ntestify. He has published little; ill health has prevented his taking a\nforward place among reformers and teachers; but where he has ministered,\nhis influence has been deep and pure. Not few are the men and women who\nascribe to him their best impulses, and owe him a debt of lasting\ngratitude for the moral faith and intellectual enthusiasm he awakened in\nthem.\n\nAnother remarkable man, of the same school, but of still different\ntemper--a man who would have been greatly distinguished but for the\ndisabilities of sickness--is David A. Wasson. Though contemporary, he\ncame forward later; but when he came, it was with a power that gave\npromise of the finest things. As his latent faith in the intuitive\nphilosophy acquired strength, he broke away from the Orthodoxy in which\nhe had been reared, with an impulse that carried him beyond the lines of\nevery organized body in Christendom, and bore him into the regions of an\nintellectual faith, where he found satisfaction. He has been a diligent\nwriter, chiefly on Ethical and Philosophical themes, on the border land\nof theology. His published pamphlets and sermons on religious questions,\neven the best of them, give scarcely more than an indication of his\nextraordinary powers. He is a poet too, of fine quality; not a singer of\nsentimental songs, nor a spinner of elegant fancies, but a discerner of\nthe spirit of beauty. \"All's Well,\" \"Ideals,\" \"The Plover,\" \"At Sea,\"\nare worthy of a place in the best collections.\n\nIt has been the appointed task of Mr. Wasson to be on the alert against\nassaults on the intuitive philosophy from the side of material science.\nLike Transcendentalists generally, he has accepted the principles of his\nphilosophy on the testimony of consciousness and as self-evidencing; but\nmore than most, he has regarded them as essential to the maintenance of\ntruths of the spiritual order; and as a believer in those truths, he has\nbeen holily jealous of the influence of men like Herbert Spencer, Mill,\nBain, and the latest school of experimental psychologists. His doctrine,\nin its own essence, and as related to the objective or material system,\nis closely stated in the essay on the \"Nature of Religion,\" contained\nin the volume, entitled \"Freedom and Fellowship in Religion,\" recently\npublished by the Free Religious Association. It is not easily quotable,\nbut must be read through and attentively. Whoever will take pains to do\nthat, may understand, not merely what Mr. Wasson's position is, but what\nfine analysis the intuitive philosophy can bring to its defence. A\nvolume of Mr. Wasson's prose essays and poems would be a valuable\ncontribution to the literature of Transcendentalism; for he is, on the\nwhole, the most capable critic on its side. Unfortunately for the\nbreadth of his fame and the reach of his power, he writes for thinkers,\nand the multitude will never follow in his train.\n\nThe names of the disciples and prophets of Transcendentalism multiply as\nthey are told off. There is T. W. Higginson, the man of letters--whom\nevery body knows--a born Transcendentalist, and an enthusiastic one,\nfrom the depth of his moral nature, the quickness of his poetic\nsensibility, his love of the higher culture. His sympathies early led\nhim to the schools of the ideal philosophy. He edited the works of\nEpictetus; speaks glowingly on the \"Sympathy of Religions;\" is\ninterested in the pacification of the sects and churches on the basis of\nspiritual fellowship in truths of universal import; lectures\nappreciatingly on Mohammed and Buddha; holds Spencer in light esteem by\nthe side of Emerson. In the controversial period--which was not ended\nwhen he left the Divinity School--he was entirely committed to the party\nof progress. Hennell's \"Christian Theism\" lay on his table at Divinity\nHall. He was an ally of Parker; an abolitionist; the colonel of a black\nregiment in the civil war; and from the first has been a champion of\nwoman's claim to fulness of culture and the largest political rights. A\nclear and powerful mind, that in controversy would make its mark, if\ncontroversy were to its taste, as it is not.\n\nEarlier mention should have been made of John Weiss, who wrote\nphilosophical articles thirty years ago, that won encomiums from the\nmost competent judges--a student at Heidelberg, a scholar of Kant, and\nan admirer of his system. He too has a paper on \"Religion and Science,\"\nin the volume of \"Freedom and Fellowship,\" which will convince the most\nskeptical that the days of Transcendentalism are not numbered; a man of\ninsight; poetical, according to Emerson's definition; supremely\nintellectual, capable of treading, with steady step, the hair lines of\nthought; a poet too, as verses in the \"Radical\" bear witness. The\nPhilosophical and AEsthetic Letters and Essays of Schiller were presented\nto the American public by his hand. He wrote the preface to the American\nedition of Smith's Memoir of Fichte. The \"Boston Quarterly,\" the\n\"Massachusetts Quarterly,\" the \"Christian Examiner,\" the \"Radical,\" were\nilluminated by his brilliant thoughts on subjects of religious\nphilosophy. The volume entitled \"American Religion,\" published in 1871,\nshows the power of the spiritual philosophy to extract noble meanings\nfrom the circumstances of the New World. Weiss treads the border-land\nbetween religion and science, recognizing the claims of both, and\nbringing to their adjustment as fine intellectual scales as any of his\ncontemporaries. His method is peculiar to himself; his is not the\nexulting mood of Emerson, or the defiant mood of Wasson; it is purely\npoetic, imaginative. The doctrine of the divine immanence is glorious in\nhis eyes; the faith in personal immortality is taken into the inner\ncitadel of metaphysics, where Parker seldom penetrated.\n\nThese men, Weiss and Wasson and Higginson, nursed in the transcendental\nschool, thoroughly imbued with its principles, committed to them, wedded\nto them by the conflicts they waged in their defence when they were\nassailed by literalists, dogmatists, and formalists, look out now upon\nthe advancing ranks of the new materialism as the holders of a royal\nfortress looked out on a host of insurgents; as the king and queen of\nFrance looked out on the revolution from the palace at Versailles: the\nonset of the new era they instinctively dread, feeling that dignity,\nprinceliness, and spiritual worth are at stake. They will fight\nadmirably to the last; but should they be defeated, it is yet possible\nthat the revolution may bring compensations to humanity, which will make\ngood the overthrow of their \"diademed towers.\"\n\nIn these sketches of transcendental leaders--as in this study of the\ntranscendental movement,--few have been included but those whom the\nintuitive philosophy drew away from their former church connections and\ngathered into a party by themselves--a party of protestants against\nliteralism and formalism. The transcendental philosophy in its main\nideas, was held by eminent orthodox divines who accepted it as entirely\nin accordance with the Christian scheme, and used it in fact as an\nefficient support for the doctrines of the church. The most eminent\ndivines of New England did this, and were considered entirely orthodox\nin doing it, their Christian faith gaining warmth and color from the\nintuitive system. As has already been said, the Trinitarian scheme has\nclose affinities with Platonism. But none of these men called themselves\nor were called Transcendentalists. The Transcendentalist substituted the\nprinciples of his Philosophy and the inferences therefrom for the creed\nof the church, and became a separatist. With him the soul superseded the\nchurch; the revelations of the soul took the place of bible, creed and\npriesthood. The men that have been named all did this, with the\nexception of James Freeman Clarke, who adhered to the ministry and the\nchurch. But his intimacy with the transcendental leaders, and his\ncooperation with them in some of their most important works, to say\nnothing of the unique position his transcendental ideas compelled him to\nassume, as well in ecclesiastical matters as in social reform, entitle\nhim to mention. Convers Francis--parish minister at Watertown from 1819\ntill 1842, and Parkman, professor of Pulpit Eloquence and the Pastoral\nCare at Cambridge from 1842 till 1863--though never conspicuous either\nas preacher or minister, and never recognized as a representative\napostle, was influential as a believer in the spiritual philosophy,\namong young men. To him Theodore Parker acknowledged his debt; to him\nsuccessive classes of divinity students owed the stimulus and direction\nthat carried them into the transcendental ranks; Johnson, Longfellow,\nHigginson were his pupils at Cambridge, and carried thence ideas which\nhe had shaped if not originated. In many things conservative,\ndisagreeing on some points with Emerson, whom he revered and loved as a\nman, regretting much that seemed sarcastic, arrogant, derisive in\nParker's \"Discourse of Religion,\" he gave his full assent to the\nprinciples of the intuitive philosophy, and used them as the pillars of\nChristianity. Had he been as electric and penetrating as he was truthful\nand obedient, high-minded and sincere, hearty and simple, he would have\nbeen a force as well as an influence. In 1836 he foresaw the rupture\nbetween \"the Old or English school belonging to the sensual and empiric\nphilosophy,--and the New or German school, belonging to the spiritual\nphilosophy,\" and gave all his sympathy to the latter as having the most\nof truth. He was the senior member of the \"Transcendental Club,\"\ncomposed of the liberal thinkers who met to discuss literary and\nspiritual subjects on the ground of reason and the soul's intuitive\nperceptions. With deep interest he followed the course of speculative\nand practical reform to the close of his life. Some, of whom he was not\none, engaged in the discussions for a little while, attended the\nmeetings, and set forth bold opinions, but retired within their close\nfellowships as soon as plans for propagandism or schemes of organization\nwere proposed. Their sympathies were literary and within the recognized\nlimits of literature; but they had either too little courage of\nconviction, or too little conviction, to depart from accustomed ways or\nbreak with existing associations. The number of professed\ntranscendentalists in the restricted sense, was never large, and, after\nthe first excitement, did not greatly increase. There was but one\ngeneration of them. The genuine transcendentalists became so in their\nyouth, ripened into full conviction in middle life, and, as a rule,\ncontinued so to old age. The desertions from the faith were not many.\nHalf a dozen perhaps became catholics; as many became episcopalians; but\nby far the greater part maintained their principles and remained serene\ndissenters, \"in the world, but not of it.\"\n\nTranscendentalism was an episode in the intellectual life of New\nEngland; an enthusiasm, a wave of sentiment, a breath of mind that\ncaught up such as were prepared to receive it, elated them, transported\nthem, and passed on,--no man knowing whither it went. Its influence on\nthought and life was immediate and powerful. Religion felt it,\nliterature, laws, institutions. To the social agitations of forty years\nago it was invaluable as an inspiration. The various reforms owed\neverything to it. New England character received from it an impetus that\nnever will be spent. It made young men see visions and old men dream\ndreams. There were mounts of Transfiguration in those days, upon which\nmultitudes thought they communed visibly with lawgivers and prophets.\nThey could not stay there always, but the memory will never cease to be\nglorious. Transcendentalism as a special phase of thought and feeling\nwas of necessity transient--having done its work it terminated its\nexistence. But it did its work, and its work was glorious. Even its\nfailures were necessary as showing what could not be accomplished, and\nits extravagances as defining the boundaries of wise experiment. Its\nsuccesses amply redeemed them all, and would have redeemed them had they\nbeen more glaring and grotesque. Had it bequeathed nothing more than the\nliterature that sprung from it, and the lives of the men and women who\nhad their intellectual roots in it, it would have conferred a lasting\nbenefit on America.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nLITERATURE.\n\n\nA few words on the literary fruits of Transcendentalism will fitly close\nthis history. To gather them all would be exceedingly difficult, but\nthat is not necessary, and will not be required. The chief results have\nalready been indicated. The indirect influence may be left unestimated\nin detail. Transcendentalism has more than justified itself in\nliterature. The ten volumes of Emerson's writings, including the two\nvolumes of poetry, are a literature by themselves; a classic literature\nthat loses no charm by age, and which years prepare new multitudes of\nreaders to enjoy.\n\nThe writings of Theodore Parker contain much that entitles them to a\npermanent place in letters. Could they be sifted, compressed, strained,\nthe incidental and personal portion discarded, and the human alone\npreserved, the remainder would interest, for many years yet, a numerous\nclass of men. In their present condition they are too diffuse, as well\nas too voluminous and miscellaneous to be manageable. The sermon style\nis unsuited to literature, and Parker's sermon style was especially so,\nfrom its excessive redundancy. He paid little heed to the literary laws\nin his compositions, which were all designed for immediate effect.\nAside from the fatal injury that the process must do to the intellectual\nharmony of the work, there is an objection to abbreviating and\nabstracting when an author does not perform the task for himself, for no\nother is credited with ability or judgment to do it for him. In Parker's\ncase the difficulty would be more than commonly great, for the reason\nthat it is not a question of omitting volumes, or even chapters, but of\nstraining the contents of pages,--\"boiling down\" masses of material,\ntill the spiritual residue alone is left. There is no likelihood that\nsuch a task will ever be performed, and therefore his writings must be\nplaced in the rank of occasional literature, valuable for many days, but\nnot precious for generations.\n\nBrownson's writings were astonishingly able, particularly his\ndiscussions in the Boston \"Quarterly Review;\" but their interest ceased\nwith their occasion. His philosophical pieces have no value. They served\npolemically an incidental purpose, but having no merit of idea or\nconstruction, they perished.\n\nThe papers of Mr. Alcott in \"Tablets\" and \"Concord Days,\" are thoughtful\nand quaint, written with a lucid simplicity that will always possess a\ncharm for a small class of people; but they have not the breadth of\nhumanity that commends writings to the general acceptance; nor have they\nthe raciness that makes books of their class spicy and aromatic to the\nliterary epicures who never tire of Selden or Sir Thomas Browne.\n\nThe writings of Margaret Fuller possess a lasting value, and will\ncontinue to be read for their wit and wisdom, when those of her more\nambitious companions are forgotten. For she treated ever-recurring\nthemes in a living way--vigorous and original, but human. Her taste was\neducated by study of the Greek classics, and she had the appreciation of\nform that belongs to the literary order of mind. Her writings are not\nfor those who read as they run, but for those who read for instruction\nand suggestion. As the number of such increases, it is not unreasonable\nto expect an increase in her audience. With her, thinking and talking\nwere serious matters. She discussed nothing in a spirit of frivolity;\nher thoughts came from a penetrating, and not from a merely acute mind;\nthe trains of reflection that she started are still in motion, from the\nmomentum she gave, and the goal she aimed at is not yet discerned by\nprofessed disciples of her own ideas.\n\nThe \"Dial\" is a treasury of literary wealth. There are pieces in it of\nprose and verse that should not and will not be lost. The character for\noddity and extravagance which Transcendentalism bore in its day, and has\nborne on the strength of tradition ever since, would have to be borne no\nlonger, if the contents of that remarkable magazine could be submitted\nto the calmer judgment of to-day. Not that the sixteen rich numbers\ncontain a great deal that would be pleasing to the hasty mental habit of\nthis generation, but to the lovers of earnest thinking and eloquent\nwriting they have the flavor of a choice intellectual vintage. It is the\nmisfortune of periodical literature to be ephemeral. The magazine sows,\nbut does not harvest. It brings thoughts suddenly to the light, but\nburies them in season for the next issue, which must have its turn to\nlive. Volumes that are compiled from magazines have lost their bloom.\nThe chapters have already discharged their virtue, and spent their\nperfume on the air; the smell of the \"old numbers\" clings to the pages,\nwhich are not of to-day, but of the day before yesterday. We call for\nliving mind, and fancy that butterflies, because we see them fluttering\nin the garden, are more alive than the phoenix that has risen unscathed\nfrom the ashes of consuming fires.\n\nThe thoughts of William Henry Channing, though keen, brilliant, of great\npotency in their time, and admirable in expression, were addressed to\nthe exigencies of the hour, and absorbed by them. Such as were committed\nto paper in the \"Harbinger,\" the \"Spirit of the Age,\" and other\nperiodicals, will never be heard of again; and such as were printed in\nbooks passed from memory with the themes he dealt with. His biographical\nworks deserve a place with the prominent contributions of that\ndepartment.\n\nThe poetry of William Ellery Channing has a recognized place in American\nliterature, though much of it has disappeared. Dana's \"Household Book of\nPoetry\" contains a single piece of his on \"Death,\" that is characterized\nby a depth of sentiment and a richness of expression, which his more\ndistinguished contemporary, Mr. Bryant, does not surpass. Mr. Emerson's\n\"Parnassus\" contains eight, the last of which, entitled \"A Poet's Hope,\"\ncloses with the wonderful line--\n\n    \"If my bark sink, 'tis to another sea.\"\n\nOf Cranch's poems, several have been adopted by collectors,--notably the\nlines--\n\n    \"Thought is deeper than all speech--\n       Feeling deeper than all thought;\n     Soul to soul can never teach\n       What unto itself was taught.\"\n\nWeiss, Wasson, and Higginson are true artists in letters. The essays of\nthe last named of the three are the best known, partly by reason of\ntheir greater popularity of theme; but Mr. Wasson's discussions on\nethical and philosophical subjects are distinguished by their luminous\nquality. Except for the vein of unhopefulness--partly due to ill\nhealth--that pervades them, the chill communicated by the regions he\nsails by, three or four of them would, without hesitation, be classed\namong the gems of speculative literature. The best work of Weiss, his\nlectures on the Greek Ideas for example, stands apart by itself, perhaps\nunrivalled as an attempt to unveil the glory of the ancient mythology.\nThe interpretation of religious symbols is his province, where, by the\npower of \"sympathetic perception,\"--to use Mr. Wasson's fine phrase--he\npenetrates the secret of mysteries, and brings the soul of dark enigmas\nto the light; and his beauty of expression more than restores to the\nimagination the splendors which the unpoetic interpreter reduces to\nmeretricious fancy.\n\nThe influence of Transcendentalism on pulpit literature--if there be\nsuch a thing--has probably been sufficiently indicated; but the\nprivilege of printing a sermon of Mr. Emerson's--the only one ever\npublished, the famous one, that was the occasion of his leaving the\nministry and adopting the profession of literature--affords opportunity\nfor a special illustration. The sermon--which is interesting in itself,\nfrom the subject, the occasion that called it forth, the insight it\ngives into Mr. Emerson's mind and character--is interesting as an\nexample of the method and spirit which Transcendentalism introduced into\ndiscussions that are usually dry and often angry.\n\n     The Kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and\n     peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.--ROMANS XIV. 17.\n\nIn the history of the Church no subject has been more fruitful of\ncontroversy than the Lord's Supper. There never has been any unanimity\nin the understanding of its nature, nor any uniformity in the mode of\ncelebrating it. Without considering the frivolous questions which have\nbeen lately debated as to the posture in which men should partake of it;\nwhether mixed or unmixed wine should be served; whether leavened or\nunleavened bread should be broken; the questions have been settled\ndifferently in every church, who should be admitted to the feast, and\nhow often it should be prepared. In the Catholic Church, infants were at\none time permitted and then forbidden to partake; and, since the ninth\ncentury, the laity receive the bread only, the cup being reserved to the\npriesthood. So, as to the time of the solemnity. In the fourth Lateran\nCouncil, it was decreed that any believer should communicate at least\nonce in a year--at Easter. Afterwards it was determined that this\nSacrament should be received three times in the year--at Easter,\nWhitsuntide, and Christmas. But more important controversies have arisen\nrespecting its nature. The famous question of the Real Presence was the\nmain controversy between the Church of England and the Church of Rome.\nThe doctrine of the Consubstantiation taught by Luther was denied by\nCalvin. In the Church of England, Archbishops Laud and Wake maintained\nthat the elements were an Eucharist or sacrifice of Thanksgiving to God;\nCudworth and Warburton, that this was not a sacrifice, but a sacrificial\nfeast; and Bishop Hoadley, that it was neither a sacrifice nor a feast\nafter sacrifice, but a simple commemoration. And finally, it is now near\ntwo hundred years since the Society of Quakers denied the authority of\nthe rite altogether, and gave good reasons for disusing it.\n\nI allude to these facts only to show that, so far from the supper being\na tradition in which men are fully agreed, there has always been the\nwidest room for difference of opinion upon this particular.\n\nHaving recently given particular attention to this subject, I was led to\nthe conclusion that Jesus did not intend to establish an institution for\nperpetual observance when he ate the Passover with his disciples; and,\nfurther, to the opinion, that it is not expedient to celebrate it as we\ndo. I shall now endeavor to state distinctly my reasons for these two\nopinions.\n\nI. The authority of the rite.\n\nAn account of the last supper of Christ with his disciples is given by\nthe four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.\n\nIn St. Matthew's Gospel (Matt. XXVI. 26-30) are recorded the words of\nJesus in giving bread and wine on that occasion to his disciples, but\nno expression occurs intimating that this feast was hereafter to be\ncommemorated.\n\nIn St. Mark (Mark XIV. 23) the same words are recorded, and still with\nno intimation that the occasion was to be remembered.\n\nSt. Luke (Luke XXII. 15), after relating the breaking of the bread, has\nthese words: This do in remembrance of me.\n\nIn St. John, although other occurrences of the same evening are related,\nthis whole transaction is passed over without notice.\n\nNow observe the facts. Two of the Evangelists, namely, Matthew and John,\nwere of the twelve disciples, and were present on that occasion. Neither\nof them drops the slightest intimation of any intention on the part of\nJesus to set up anything permanent. John, especially, the beloved\ndisciple, who has recorded with minuteness the conversation and the\ntransactions of that memorable evening, has quite omitted such a notice.\nNeither does it appear to have come to the knowledge of Mark who, though\nnot an eye-witness, relates the other facts. This material fact, that\nthe occasion was to be remembered, is found in Luke alone, who was not\npresent. There is no reason, however, that we know, for rejecting the\naccount of Luke. I doubt not, the expression was used by Jesus. I shall\npresently consider its meaning. I have only brought these accounts\ntogether, that you may judge whether it is likely that a solemn\ninstitution, to be continued to the end of time by all mankind, as they\nshould come, nation after nation, within the influence of the Christian\nreligion, would have been established in this slight manner in a manner\nso slight, that the intention of commemorating it should not appear,\nfrom their narrative, to have caught the ear or dwelt in the mind of the\nonly two among the twelve who wrote down what happened.\n\nStill we must suppose that the expression, \"_This do in remembrance of\nme_,\" had come to the ear of Luke from some disciple who was present.\nWhat did it really signify? It is a prophetic and an affectionate\nexpression. Jesus is a Jew, sitting with his countrymen, celebrating\ntheir national feast. He thinks of his own impending death, and wishes\nthe minds of his disciples to be prepared for it. \"When hereafter,\" he\nsays to them, \"you shall keep the Passover, it will have an altered\naspect to your eyes. It is now a historical covenant of God with the\nJewish nation. Hereafter, it will remind you of a new covenant sealed\nwith my blood. In years to come, as long as your people shall come up to\nJerusalem to keep this feast, the connection which has subsisted between\nus will give a new meaning in your eyes to the national festival, as the\nanniversary of my death.\" I see natural feeling and beauty in the use of\nsuch language from Jesus, a friend to his friends; I can readily imagine\nthat he was willing and desirous, when his disciples met, his memory\nshould hallow their intercourse; but I cannot bring myself to believe\nthat in the use of such an expression he looked beyond the living\ngeneration, beyond the abolition of the festival he was celebrating,\nand the scattering of the nation, and meant to impose a memorial feast\nupon the whole world.\n\nWithout presuming to fix precisely the purpose in the mind of Jesus, you\nwill see that many opinions may be entertained of his intention, all\nconsistent with the opinion that he did not design a perpetual\nordinance. He may have foreseen that his disciples would meet to\nremember him, and that with good effect. It may have crossed his mind\nthat this would be easily continued a hundred or a thousand years--as\nmen more easily transmit a form than a virtue--and yet have been\naltogether out of his purpose to fasten it upon men in all times and all\ncountries.\n\nBut though the words, _Do this in remembrance of me_, do not occur in\nMatthew, Mark, or John, and although it should be granted us that, taken\nalone, they do not necessarily import so much as is usually thought, yet\nmany persons are apt to imagine that the very striking and personal\nmanner in which this eating and drinking is described, indicates a\nstriking and formal purpose to found a festival. And I admit that this\nimpression might probably be left upon the mind of one who read only the\npassages under consideration in the New Testament. But this impression\nis removed by reading any narrative of the mode in which the ancient or\nthe modern Jews have kept the Passover. It is then perceived that the\nleading circumstances in the Gospels are only a faithful account of that\nceremony. Jesus did not celebrate the Passover, and afterwards the\nSupper, but the Supper _was_ the Passover. He did with his disciples\nexactly what every master of a family in Jerusalem was doing at the same\nhour with his household. It appears that the Jews ate the lamb and the\nunleavened bread, and drank wine after a prescribed manner. It was the\ncustom for the master of the feast to break the bread and to bless it,\nusing this formula, which the Talmudists have preserved to us, \"Blessed\nbe Thou, O Lord our God, the King of the world, who hast produced this\nfood from the earth,\"--and to give it to every one at the table. It was\nthe custom of the master of the family to take the cup which contained\nthe wine, and to bless it, saying, \"Blessed be Thou, O Lord, who givest\nus the fruit of the vine,\"--and then to give the cup to all. Among the\nmodern Jews who in their dispersion retain the Passover, a hymn is also\nsung after this ceremony, specifying the twelve great works done by God\nfor the deliverance of their fathers out of Egypt.\n\nBut still it may be asked, why did Jesus make expressions so\nextraordinary and emphatic as these--\"This is my body which is broken\nfor you. Take; eat. This is my blood which is shed for you. Drink\nit.\"--I reply they are not extraordinary expressions from him. They were\nfamiliar in his mouth. He always taught by parables and symbols. It was\nthe national way of teaching and was largely used by him. Remember the\nreadiness which he always showed to spiritualize every occurrence. He\nstooped and wrote on the sand. He admonished his disciples respecting\nthe leaven of the Pharisees. He instructed the woman of Samaria\nrespecting living water. He permitted himself to be anointed, declaring\nthat it was for his interment. He washed the feet of his disciples.\nThese are admitted to be symbolical actions and expressions. Here, in\nlike manner, he calls the bread his body, and bids the disciples eat. He\nhad used the same expression repeatedly before. The reason why St. John\ndoes not repeat his words on this occasion, seems to be that he had\nreported a similar discourse of Jesus to the people of Capernaum more at\nlength already (John VI. 27). He there tells the Jews, \"Except ye eat\nthe flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, ye have no life in\nyou.\" And when the Jews on that occasion complained that they did not\ncomprehend what he meant, he added for their better understanding, and\nas if for our understanding, that we might not think his body was to be\nactually eaten, that he only meant, _we should live by his commandment_.\nHe closed his discourse with these explanatory expressions: \"The flesh\nprofiteth nothing; the _words_ that I speak to you, they are spirit and\nthey are life.\"\n\nWhilst I am upon this topic, I cannot help remarking that it is not a\nlittle singular that we should have preserved this rite and insisted\nupon perpetuating one symbolical act of Christ whilst we have totally\nneglected all others--particularly one other which had at least an equal\nclaim to our observance. Jesus washed the feet of his disciples and told\nthem that, as he had washed their feet, they ought to wash one another's\nfeet; for he had given them an example, that they should do as he had\ndone to them. I ask any person who believes the Supper to have been\ndesigned by Jesus to be commemorated forever, to go and read the account\nof it in the other Gospels, and then compare with it the account of this\ntransaction in St. John, and tell me if this be not much more explicitly\nauthorized than the Supper. It only differs in this, that we have found\nthe Supper used in New England and the washing of the feet not. But if\nwe had found it an established rite in our churches, on grounds of mere\nauthority, it would have been impossible to have argued against it. That\nrite is used by the Church of Rome, and by the Sandemanians. It has been\nvery properly dropped by other Christians. Why? For two reasons: (1)\nbecause it was a local custom, and unsuitable in western countries; and\n(2) because it was typical, and all understand that humility is the\nthing signified. But the Passover was local too, and does not concern\nus, and its bread and wine were typical, and do not help us to\nunderstand the redemption which they signified.\n\nThese views of the original account of the Lord's Supper lead me to\nesteem it an occasion full of solemn and prophetic interest, but never\nintended by Jesus to be the foundation of a perpetual institution.\n\nIt appears however in Christian history that the disciples had very\nearly taken advantage of these impressive words of Christ to hold\nreligious meetings, where they broke bread and drank wine as symbols.\n\nI look upon this fact as very natural in the circumstances of the\nchurch. The disciples lived together; they threw all their property into\na common stock; they were bound together by the memory of Christ, and\nnothing could be more natural than that this eventful evening should be\naffectionately remembered by them; that they, Jews like Jesus, should\nadopt his expressions and his types, and furthermore, that what was done\nwith peculiar propriety by them, his personal friends, with less\npropriety should come to be extended to their companions also. In this\nway religious feasts grew up among the early Christians. They were\nreadily adopted by the Jewish converts who were familiar with religious\nfeasts, and also by the Pagan converts whose idolatrous worship had been\nmade up of sacred festivals, and who very readily abused these to gross\nriot, as appears from the censures of St. Paul. Many persons consider\nthis fact, the observance of such a memorial feast by the early\ndisciples, decisive of the question whether it ought to be observed by\nus. For my part I see nothing to wonder at in its originating with them;\nall that is surprising is that it should exist among us. There was good\nreason for his personal friends to remember their friend and repeat his\nwords. It was only too probable that among the half converted Pagans and\nJews, any rite, any form, would find favor, whilst yet unable to\ncomprehend the spiritual character of Christianity.\n\nThe circumstance, however, that St. Paul adopts these views, has seemed\nto many persons conclusive in favor of the institution. I am of opinion\nthat it is wholly upon the epistle to the Corinthians, and not upon the\nGospels, that the ordinance stands. Upon this matter of St. Paul's view\nof the Supper, a few important considerations must be stated.\n\nThe end which he has in view, in the eleventh chapter of the first\nepistle is, not to enjoin upon his friends to observe the Supper, but to\ncensure their abuse of it. _We_ quote the passage now-a-days as if it\nenjoined attendance upon the Supper; but he wrote it merely to chide\nthem for drunkenness. To make their enormity plainer he goes back to the\norigin of this religious feast to show what sort of feast that was, out\nof which this riot of theirs came, and so relates the transactions of\nthe Last Supper. \"_I have received of the Lord_,\" he says, \"_that which\nI delivered to you_.\" By this expression it is often thought that a\nmiraculous communication is implied; but certainly without good reason,\nif it is remembered that St. Paul was living in the lifetime of all the\napostles who could give him an account of the transaction; and it is\ncontrary to all reason to suppose that God should work a miracle to\nconvey information that could so easily be got by natural means. So that\nthe import of the expression is that he had received the story of an\neye-witness such as we also possess.\n\nBut there is a material circumstance which diminishes our confidence in\nthe correctness of the Apostle's view; and that is, the observation that\nhis mind had not escaped the prevalent error of the primitive church,\nthe belief, namely, that the second coming of Christ would shortly\noccur, until which time, he tells them, this feast was to be kept.\nElsewhere he tells them, that, at that time the world would be burnt up\nwith fire, and a new government established, in which the Saints would\nsit on thrones; so slow were the disciples during the life, and after\nthe ascension of Christ, to receive the idea which we receive, that his\nsecond coming was a spiritual kingdom, the dominion of his religion in\nthe hearts of men, to be extended gradually over the whole world.\n\nIn this manner we may see clearly enough how this ancient ordinance got\nits footing among the early Christians, and this single expectation of a\nspeedy reappearance of a temporal Messiah, which kept its influence even\nover so spiritual a man as St. Paul, would naturally tend to preserve\nthe use of the rite when once established.\n\nWe arrive then at this conclusion, _first_, that it does not appear,\nfrom a careful examination of the account of the Last Supper in the\nEvangelists, that it was designed by Jesus to be perpetual; _secondly_,\nthat it does not appear that the opinion of St. Paul, all things\nconsidered, ought to alter our opinion derived from the evangelists.\n\nOne general remark before quitting this branch of the subject. We ought\nto be cautious in taking even the best ascertained opinions and\npractices of the primitive church, for our own. If it could be\nsatisfactorily shown that they esteemed it authorized and to be\ntransmitted forever, that does not settle the question for us. We know\nhow inveterately they were attached to their Jewish prejudices, and how\noften even the influence of Christ failed to enlarge their views. On\nevery other subject succeeding times have learned to form a judgment\nmore in accordance with the spirit of Christianity than was the\npractice of the early ages.\n\nBut it is said: \"Admit that the rite was not designed to be perpetual.\nWhat harm doth it? Here it stands, generally accepted, under some form,\nby the Christian world, the undoubted occasion of much good; is it not\nbetter it should remain?\"\n\nII. This is the question of expediency.\n\nI proceed to state a few objections that in my judgment lie against its\nuse in its present form.\n\n1. If the view which I have taken of the history of the institution be\ncorrect, then the claim of authority should be dropped in administering\nit. You say, every time you celebrate the rite, that Jesus enjoined it;\nand the whole language you use conveys that impression. But if you read\nthe New Testament as I do, you do not believe he did.\n\n2. It has seemed to me that the use of this ordinance tends to produce\nconfusion in our views of the relation of the soul to God. It is the old\nobjection to the doctrine of the Trinity,--that the true worship was\ntransferred from God to Christ, or that such confusion was introduced\ninto the soul, that an undivided worship was given nowhere. Is not that\nthe effect of the Lord's Supper? I appeal now to the convictions of\ncommunicants--and ask such persons whether they have not been\noccasionally conscious of a painful confusion of thought between the\nworship due to God and the commemoration due to Christ. For, the service\ndoes not stand upon the basis of a voluntary act, but is imposed by\nauthority. It is an expression of gratitude to Christ, enjoined by\nChrist. There is an endeavor to keep Jesus in mind, whilst yet the\nprayers are addressed to God. I fear it is the effect of this ordinance\nto clothe Jesus with an authority which he never claimed and which\ndistracts the mind of the worshipper. I know our opinions differ much\nrespecting the nature and offices of Christ, and the degree of\nveneration to which he is entitled. I am so much a Unitarian as this:\nthat I believe the human mind cannot admit but one God, and that every\neffort to pay religious homage to more than one being, goes to take away\nall right ideas. I appeal, brethren, to your individual experience. In\nthe moment when you make the least petition to God, though it be but a\nsilent wish that he may approve you, or add one moment to your life,--do\nyou not, in the very act, necessarily exclude all other beings from your\nthought? In that act, the soul stands alone with God, and Jesus is no\nmore present to the mind than your brother or your child.\n\nBut is not Jesus called in Scripture the Mediator? He is the mediator in\nthat only sense in which possibly any being can mediate between God and\nman--that is an Instructor of man. He teaches us how to become like God.\nAnd a true disciple of Jesus will receive the light he gives most\nthankfully; but the thanks he offers, and which an exalted being will\naccept, are not _compliments_--commemorations,--but the use of that\ninstruction.\n\n3. Passing other objections, I come to this, that the _use of the\nelements_, however suitable to the people and the modes of thought in\nthe East, where it originated, is foreign and unsuited to affect us.\nWhatever long usage and strong association may have done in some\nindividuals to deaden this repulsion, I apprehend that their use is\nrather tolerated than loved by any of us. We are not accustomed to\nexpress our thoughts or emotions by symbolical actions. Most men find\nthe bread and wine no aid to devotion and to some, it is a painful\nimpediment. To eat bread is one thing; to love the precepts of Christ\nand resolve to obey them is quite another.\n\nThe statement of this objection leads me to say that I think this\ndifficulty, wherever it is felt, to be entitled to the greatest weight.\nIt is alone a sufficient objection to the ordinance. It is my own\nobjection. This mode of commemorating Christ is not suitable to me. That\nis reason enough why I should abandon it. If I believed that it was\nenjoined by Jesus on his disciples, and that he even contemplated making\npermanent this mode of commemoration, every way agreeable to an eastern\nmind, and yet, on trial, it was disagreeable to my own feelings, I\nshould not adopt it. I should choose other ways which, as more effectual\nupon me, he would approve more. For I choose that my remembrances of him\nshould be pleasing, affecting, religious. I will love him as a glorified\nfriend, after the free way of friendship, and not pay him a stiff sign\nof respect, as men do to those whom they fear. A passage read from his\ndiscourses, a moving provocation to works like his, any act or meeting\nwhich tends to awaken a pure thought, a flow of love, an original\ndesign of virtue, I call a worthy, a true commemoration.\n\n4. Fourthly, the importance ascribed to this particular ordinance is not\nconsistent with the spirit of Christianity. The general object and\neffect of this ordinance is unexceptionable. It has been, and is, I\ndoubt not, the occasion of indefinite good; but an importance is given\nby Christians to it which never can belong to any form. My friends, the\napostle well assures us that \"the kingdom of God is not meat and drink,\nbut righteousness and peace and joy, in the Holy Ghost.\" I am not so\nfoolish as to declaim against forms. Forms are as essential as bodies;\nbut to exalt particular forms, to adhere to one form a moment after it\nis out-grown, is unreasonable, and it is alien to the spirit of Christ.\nIf I understand the distinction of Christianity, the reason why it is to\nbe preferred over all other systems and is divine is this, that it is a\nmoral system; that it presents men with truths which are their own\nreason, and enjoins practices that are their own justification; that if\nmiracles may be said to have been its evidence to the first Christians,\nthey are not its evidence to us, but the doctrines themselves; that\nevery practice is Christian which praises itself, and every practice\nunchristian which condemns itself. I am not engaged to Christianity by\ndecent forms, or saving ordinances; it is not usage, it is not what I do\nnot understand, that binds me to it--let these be the sandy foundations\nof falsehoods. What I revere and obey in it is its reality, its\nboundless charity, its deep interior life, the rest it gives to my\nmind, the echo it returns to my thoughts, the perfect accord it makes\nwith my reason through all its representation of God and His Providence;\nand the persuasion and courage that come out thence to lead me upward\nand onward. Freedom is the essence of this faith. It has for its object\nsimply to make men good and wise. Its institutions, then, should be as\nflexible as the wants of men. That form out of which the life and\nsuitableness have departed, should be as worthless in its eyes as the\ndead leaves that are falling around us.\n\nAnd therefore, although for the satisfaction of others, I have labored\nto show by the history that this rite was not intended to be perpetual;\nalthough I have gone back to weigh the expressions of Paul, I feel that\nhere is the true point of view. In the midst of considerations as to\nwhat Paul thought, and why he so thought, I cannot help feeling that it\nis time misspent to argue to or from his convictions, or those of Luke\nand John, respecting any form. I seem to lose the substance in seeking\nthe shadow. That for which Paul lived and died so gloriously; that for\nwhich Jesus gave himself to be crucified; the end that animated the\nthousand martyrs and heroes who have followed his steps, was to redeem\nus from a formal religion, and teach us to seek our well-being in the\nformation of the soul. The whole world was full of idols and ordinances.\nThe Jewish was a religion of forms. The Pagan was a religion of forms;\nit was all body--it had no life--and the Almighty God was pleased to\nqualify and send forth a man to teach men that they must serve him with\nthe heart; that only that life was religious which was thoroughly good;\nthat sacrifice was smoke, and forms were shadows. This man lived and\ndied true to this purpose; and now, with his blessed word and life\nbefore us, Christians must contend that it is a matter of vital\nimportance--really a duty, to commemorate him by a certain form, whether\nthat form be agreeable to their understandings or not.\n\nIs not this to make vain the gift of God? Is not this to turn back the\nhand on the dial? Is not this to make men--to make ourselves--forget\nthat not forms, but duties; not names, but righteousness and love are\nenjoined; and that in the eye of God there is no other measure of the\nvalue of any one form than the measure of its use?\n\nThere remain some practical objections to the ordinance into which I\nshall not now enter. There is one on which I had intended to say a few\nwords; I mean the unfavorable relation in which it places that numerous\nclass of persons who abstain from it merely from disinclination to the\nrite.\n\nInfluenced by these considerations, I have proposed to the brethren of\nthe Church to drop the use of the elements and the claim of authority in\nthe administration of this ordinance, and have suggested a mode in which\na meeting for the same purpose might be held free of objection.\n\nMy brethren have considered my views with patience and candor, and have\nrecommended unanimously an adherence to the present form. I have,\ntherefore, been compelled to consider whether it becomes me to\nadminister it. I am clearly of opinion I ought not. This discourse has\nalready been so far extended, that I can only say that the reason of my\ndetermination is shortly this:--It is my desire, in the office of a\nChristian minister, to do nothing which I cannot do with my whole heart.\nHaving said this, I have said all. I have no hostility to this\ninstitution; I am only stating my want of sympathy with it. Neither\nshould I ever have obtruded this opinion upon other people, had I not\nbeen called by my office to administer it. That is the end of my\nopposition, that I am not interested in it. I am content that it stand\nto the end of the world, if it please men and please heaven, and I shall\nrejoice in all the good it produces.\n\nAs it is the prevailing opinion and feeling in our religious community,\nthat it is an indispensable part of the pastoral office to administer\nthis ordinance, I am about to resign into your hands that office which\nyou have confided to me. It has many duties for which I am feebly\nqualified. It has some which it will always be my delight to discharge,\naccording to my ability, wherever I exist. And whilst the recollection\nof its claims oppresses me with a sense of my unworthiness, I am\nconsoled by the hope that no time and no change can deprive me of the\nsatisfaction of pursuing and exercising its highest functions.\n\nSeptember 9, 1832.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe influence of Transcendentalism on general literature can be only\nindicated in loose terms. Its current was so strong, that like the\nOrinoco rushing down between the South American continent and the island\nof Trinidad, it made a bright green trail upon the dark sea into which\nit poured, but the vehemence of the flood forbade its diffusion. The\ninfluence was chiefly felt on the departments of philosophy and ethics.\nIt created the turbulent literature of reform, the literature born of\nthe \"Enthusiasm of Humanity,\" the waves whereof are still rolling,\nthough not with their original force. The literature of politics was\nprofoundly affected by it; the political radicals, philosophical\ndemocrats, anti-slavery whigs or republicans, enthusiasts for American\nideas, prophets of America's destiny, being, more or less wittingly,\ncontrolled by its ideas. In this department Parker made himself felt,\nnot on the popular mind alone, but on the recognized leaders of opinion\nEast and West. The writings of Sumner and his school owe their vigor to\nthese ideas. In history Bancroft was its great representative, his\nearliest volumes especially revealing in the richness, depth, and\nhopefulness of their interpretations of men and measures, the faith in\nhumanity so strongly characteristic of the philosophy he professed.\n\nIn poetry the influence is distinctly traceable, though here also it was\nconfined within somewhat narrow limits. Bryant betrays scarcely\nperceptible marks of it, though he ascribed to Wordsworth a fresh\ninspiration of love for nature. It is hardly perceptible in Longfellow,\nwhose verse, bubbling from the heart, gently meanders over the meadows\nand through the villages, gladdening daily existence with its music.\nNeither Bryant nor Longfellow had the intellectual passion that\nTranscendentalism roused. The earlier pieces of Lowell, the anti-slavery\nlyrics and poems of sentiment, were inspired by it. Whittier was wholly\nunder its sway. The delicious sonnets of Jones Very were oozings from\nits spring. Julia Ward Howe's \"Passion Flowers,\" though published as\nlate as 1854, burn and throb with feeling that had its source in these\nheights.\n\nThe writers of elegant literature, essays, romances, tales, owed to\nTranscendentalism but a trifling debt, not worth acknowledging. They\nwere out of range. It was their task to entertain people of leisure, and\nthey derived their impulse from the pleasure their writings gave them or\nothers. It was not to be expected that authors like Irving, Paulding,\nCooper, would feel an interest in ideas so grave and earnest, or would\ncatch a suggestion from them. But Lydia Maria Child, whose \"Letters from\nNew York\"--1841, 1843--were models in their kind; whose stories for\nyoung people have not been surpassed by those of any writer, except\nAndersen; whose more labored works have a quality that entitles them to\na high place among the products of mind, is a devotee of the\ntranscendental faith. A very remarkable book in the department of\nfiction was Sylvester Judd's \"Margaret; a tale of the Real and the\nIdeal; Blight and Bloom.\" It contained the material for half a dozen\nordinary novels; was full of imagination, aromatic, poetical,\npicturesque, tender, and in the dress of fiction set forth the whole\ngospel of Transcendentalism in religion, politics, reform, social\nethics, personal character, professional and private life.\n\nAs has been already remarked, the transcendental faith found expression\nin magazines and newspapers, which it called into existence, and which\nno longer survive. Its elaborate compositions were, from the nature of\nthe case, few; its intellectual occupancy was too brief for the creation\nof a permanent literature. Had Transcendentalism been chiefly remarkable\nas a literary curiosity, the neglect of the smallest scrap of paper it\ncaused to be marked with ink would be culpable. As it was, primarily and\nto the end, an intellectual episode, turning on a few cardinal ideas, it\nis best studied in the writings and lives of its disciples. They knew\nbetter than any body what they wanted; they were best acquainted with\ntheir own ideas, and should be permitted to speak for themselves.\nEarnest men and women no doubt they were; better educated men and women\ndid not live in America; they were well born, well nurtured, well\nendowed. Their generation produced no warmer hearts, no purer spirits,\nno more ardent consciences, no more devoted wills. Their philosophy may\nbe unsound, but it produced noble characters and humane lives. The\nphilosophy that takes its place may rest on more scientific foundations;\nit will not more completely justify its existence or honor its day.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n  A.\n\n  Alcott, Bronson, contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    on the transcendental philosophy, tribute to Emerson quoted, 246;\n    the mystic, 249;\n    a follower of Pythagoras, 251;\n    \"_Concord Days_\" quoted, 255;\n    a leader of the transcendentalists, 257;\n    school in Cheshire, Conn., 262;\n    school in England named for, 267;\n    presides at reform meetings in England, 272;\n    superintendent of schools, 275;\n    his conversations, 283;\n    writings of, 358.\n\n  Alcott, Wm. A., writes on physical training, 262.\n\n  Alexandria, school of, 61.\n\n  American Unitarian Association, tract published by, 120.\n\n  Aristotle, categories of, 111.\n\n  Arius, advocate of Unitarian philosophy, 109.\n\n\n  B.\n\n  Bacon, Lord Francis, Macaulay on his philosophy, 139.\n\n  Bain, principles of the sensational philosophy stated by, 205.\n\n  Bancroft, George, his account of Herder, 47;\n    History of the United States quoted, 117;\n    champion of the spiritual philosophy, 117, 118;\n    traces of transcendentalism in his historical writings, 381.\n\n  Barni, Jules, translates Kant into French, 61.\n\n  Bartol, C. A., belongs to the transcendental school, 341.\n\n  Baur, follower of the Hegelian ideas, 186.\n\n  Biblical repository, articles on transcendentalism in, 137.\n\n  Bibliotheca Sacra, article on transcendentalism in, 92.\n\n  Biographia Literaria, of Coleridge, quoted, 82;\n    criticised by Edinburgh Review, 91;\n    Wordsworth's poetry considered in, 97.\n\n  \"Blithedale Romance,\" published by Hawthorne, 175.\n\n  Blodgett, Levi, nom de plume of Theodore Parker, 125.\n\n  Boehme, Jacob, doctrine of, 257.\n\n  Boston Quarterly Review started by O. A. Brownson, 128.\n\n  Bouillet translates Plotinus, 61.\n\n  Brisbane, Albert, disciple of Fourier, 156.\n\n  Brook Farm, the experiment at, 157;\n    constitution quoted, 159;\n    mode of life there, 164-169;\n    breaking up of the society, 170.\n\n  Brooks, C. T., makes translations from German authors, 56;\n    German lyrics translated by, 116.\n\n  Brownson, Orestes A., description of, 128;\n    converted to Romanism, 131;\n    writings, 358.\n\n  Bruno, Giordano, founder of the Dynamic System, 81.\n\n  Bryant, Wm. C., transcendental spirit not found in his writings, 381.\n\n  Butler fights against infidelity in his _Analogy_, 185.\n\n\n  C.\n\n  Cabanis, philosophy of, 63;\n    skeptic of the 18th century, 187.\n\n  Cabot, Eliot, contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133.\n\n  Calvin, denies doctrine of consubstantiation, 364.\n\n  Cambridge Divinity School, address before, by James Walker, 121-123.\n\n  Carlyle, Thomas, interprets the German thinkers, 52;\n    quoted, 52;\n    translates Wilhelm Meister, 56;\n    opinion of Coleridge quoted, 77-92;\n    change in his mode of thought, 94;\n    the preacher of transcendentalism, 103;\n    articles on Richter and German literature, 116.\n\n  Chalybaeus, his verdict on Jacobi quoted, 25.\n\n  Channing, Dr. William, not a transcendentalist in theory, 111;\n    feeling toward Christ, 111;\n    letters of, quoted, 112;\n    transcendentalist in sentiment, 113;\n    quoted, 113;\n    contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    tribute to Alcott, 259;\n    judgment of Margaret Fuller, 293;\n    writings of, 350.\n\n  Channing, William Ellery, writings of, 340.\n\n  Channing, Wm. H., version of Jouffroy published, 116;\n    contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    writes on social topics, 330;\n    works of, 336;\n    as an orator, 338;\n    writings of, 360.\n\n  Chapin, E. H., speaks against capital punishment, 337.\n\n  Chauvet, on philosophy of the ancients, 61.\n\n  Cheever, Geo. B., article in N. A. Review, 92.\n\n  Cheshire, Conn., school at, 262.\n\n  Child, Lydia Maria, a writer of the transcendental school, 382.\n\n  Christian Examiner, account of Herder in, 47;\n    article by F. D. Hedge in, 92;\n    article by James Walker in, 120;\n    articles on transcendentalism in, 137;\n    review on Emerson in, 138.\n\n  Clarke, James Freeman, edits De Wette, 116;\n    contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    judgment of Margaret Fuller, 293;\n    an early transcendentalist, 343.\n\n  Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, influence of Schelling on, 40;\n    the prophet of transcendentalism in England, 76;\n    his studies in Germany, 79;\n    on Schelling's works, 80;\n    alleged plagiarism from Schelling, 81.\n\n  Coleridge, Biographia Literaria, quoted, 82;\n    the true founder of the Broad church, 89;\n    described by Talfourd and Hazlitt, 90.\n\n  Coleridge, Carlyle's verdict on, 92;\n    his sympathy with German literature, 96;\n    the philosopher of transcendentalism, 103;\n    makes Lessing's works familiar, 116;\n    article on by Mill, 206.\n\n  Coleridge, Sarah, note by, in Biographia Literaria, 88.\n\n  Communism in Massachusetts, 157.\n\n  _Concord Days_, by A. B. Alcott, quoted, 246.\n\n  Condillac, doctrine of, 62;\n    skeptic of the 18th century, 187.\n\n  Congregationalists, followers of Schleiermacher among, 50.\n\n  Constant, English translations from, by Geo. Ripley, 116.\n\n  Consubstantiation taught by Luther, 364;\n    denied by Calvin, 364.\n\n  _Consuelo_ translated by F. G. Shaw, 329.\n\n  Copernicus revolutionizes astronomy, 10.\n\n  Cousin, Victor, philosophical works of, 61;\n    French follower of the Scotch school, 66;\n    his system of philosophy, 67-75;\n    English translations from, 116;\n    philosophical miscellanies noticed by the press, 117.\n\n  Cranch, C. P., contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    lines from, quoted, 146;\n    writes for \"The Harbinger,\" 330.\n\n  Curtis, Geo. Wm., writes for \"The Harbinger,\" 330.\n\n\n  D.\n\n  Dana, Chas. A., writes for \"The Harbinger,\" 330.\n\n  Degerando, lectures on Kant's philosophy, in Paris, 115.\n\n  Descartes, doctrine of innate ideas ascribed to, 15.\n\n  De Wette, students of, in the United States, 116;\n    Theodor and Ethics, English edition of, 116;\n    living faith in God aided by, 121.\n\n  D'Holbach, skeptic of the 18th century, 187.\n\n  Dial, the, publisher's letter on Herder, 47;\n    Tribute to Wordsworth in, quoted, 97-99;\n    articles in, 132;\n    writes for, 133;\n    ancient scriptures printed in, 135;\n    article on Margaret Fuller in, 176;\n    contains account of English reform meetings, 273.\n\n  Digby, Sir Kenelm, story related by, 199.\n\n  Dietetics, theory and practice of, introduced by transcendentalists, 150.\n\n  _Discourses on Religion_, work by Schleiermacher, 48.\n\n  Dwight, J. S., makes translations from German authors, 56;\n    edits selections from Goethe and Schiller, 116;\n    contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    quoted, 148;\n    writes musical articles for \"The Harbinger,\" 330.\n\n  Dynamic system, the, begun by Giordano Bruno, 80.\n\n\n  E.\n\n  Eckermann's conversations with Goethe translated into English, 116.\n\n  Edinburgh Review contains article by Carlyle, 52;\n    criticises Biographia Literaria, 91.\n\n  Edwards, Jonathan, spirit of his writings, 108.\n\n  _Elements of Psychology_, work by C. S. Henry, published, 75.\n\n  Emerson, Charles, contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    articles quoted, 222.\n\n  Emerson, R. W., edits Carlyle's Miscellanies, 93-116;\n    on Wordsworth, 99;\n    an idealist, 115;\n    retires from the ministry, 120;\n    publication of \"Nature,\" 122;\n    essays published, 127;\n    quoted, 142;\n    edits \"The Dial,\" 132;\n    lecture on transcendentalism quoted, 135;\n    lecture on \"The Reformer\" quoted, 153;\n    address before Divinity College, 200;\n    tribute paid by Tyndall to, 214-243;\n    appreciation of by German readers, 218;\n    published works, 224;\n    works quoted from, 228;\n    letter to his church, 232;\n    judgment of Margaret Fuller, 285;\n    sermon of, reprinted, 363.\n\n  Encyclopaedists, influence of, in France, 187.\n\n  England, idealists of, 1;\n    metaphysical schools in, 2;\n    transcendentalism in, 78-105.\n\n  Epictetus, works of, edited by Higginson, 350.\n\n  Excursion, Wordsworth's, quoted, 101.\n\n\n  F.\n\n  Felton, Prof. C. C., translates Menzel, 58;\n    edits Menzel's German literature, 116.\n\n  Fichte, Johann Gotlieb, treatises of, 28;\n    effect of Kant's system upon, 28;\n    outline of his system of reasoning, 31-40;\n    the idealists of New England his followers, 46;\n    few copies of his works found in the United States, 116.\n\n  Fiske, John, cosmic philosophy quoted, 211.\n\n  Foreign Review, contains article on Novalis, 52.\n\n  Fourierism not welcomed by transcendentalists, 156.\n\n  France, philosophy in, 60;\n    transcendentalism in, 105;\n    skepticism in, 189.\n\n  Francis, Convers; apostle of transcendentalism, 353.\n\n  Franck, Adolphe, explains the Jewish Kabbala, 71.\n\n  Frederick the Great, court of, 187.\n\n  Frothingham, Dr. N. L., student of German literature, 47.\n\n  Fuller, Margaret, article on Goethe, 57;\n    translates from the German, 116;\n    edits \"The Dial,\" 132;\n    _Women in the 19th Century_ quoted, 177-181;\n    memoirs of, published, 284;\n    judgment of, by Emerson, 285;\n    on metaphysics and religion, 286;\n    as a critic, 287;\n    edits \"The Dial,\" 289;\n    biographical account of, 293;\n    writings of, 358.\n\n  Furness, W. H., maintains belief in the miracles, 202.\n\n\n  G.\n\n  Galileo, experiments of, 8.\n\n  Greaves, James Pierrepont, founds the Alcott School near London, 267;\n    letter of, 267.\n\n  Grimm, Herman, essay on R. W. Emerson, 218.\n\n  Grote, opinion on moral intuition, 216.\n\n  German Lyrics, translation by Chas. Brooks, 116.\n\n  Germany, transcendentalism in, 14-105;\n    philosophy of, 60;\n    under the influence of idealism, 186.\n\n  Gibbon, his history assailed by the church, 185.\n\n  Goethe, appreciation of, in New England, 57.\n\n\n  H.\n\n  Hamilton, Sir William, Mill's criticism of, 207.\n\n  Harbinger, The, started in 1845, 327;\n    list of contributors to, 329.\n\n  Haureau writes on philosophy of the middle ages, 61.\n\n  Hawthorne, Nathaniel, notes on Brook Farm quoted, 171;\n    _Blithedale Romance_, 175.\n\n  Hazlitt, William, account of Coleridge's preaching, 90.\n\n  Hedge, F. K., German translations made by, 56;\n    writes articles in \"Christian Examiner,\" 92.\n\n  Hegel, the successor of Schelling, 43;\n    verdict on Jacobi quoted, 26;\n    system of philosophy, 43-45.\n\n  Helvetius, skeptic of the 18th century, 187.\n\n  Henry, C. L., publishes elements of psychology, 75;\n    his admiration for Coleridge, 89.\n\n  Herder, translations of, into English, 47;\n    works of, read in the United States, 116.\n\n  Higginson, T. W., a disciple of transcendentalism, 350.\n\n  History of Philosophy, by Cousin, 75.\n\n  Hume, his system of reasoning, 16.\n\n\n  I.\n\n  Idealism in England, 7;\n    in New England, 115;\n    in Germany, 186.\n\n\n  J.\n\n  Jacobi, Frederick, his system of faith, 24;\n    idealists of New England his followers, 46;\n    his works in the United States, 116.\n\n  Janet, Paul, explains Plato, 61.\n\n  Jeffrey criticised Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, 91.\n\n  Johnson, Samuel, work on the \"Religions of India,\" quoted, 345;\n    belongs to the transcendental school, 347.\n\n  Jouffroy, Theodore, French follower of the Scotch school, 66;\n    _Introduction to Ethics_, English edition of, 114.\n\n  Judd, Sylvester, a novelist of the transcendental school, 382.\n\n\n  K.\n\n  Kant, Immanuel, publishes \"Critique of Pure Reason\" (1781), 6;\n    Character of his work, 6;\n    starting-point of his philosophy, 9;\n    _Critique of Pure Reason_ quoted, 14;\n    Outline of his system of reasoning, 16-21;\n    Carlyle on his philosophy, 53;\n    Menzel on his philosophy, 57;\n    translated into French, 61;\n    reintroduces the Dynamic system, 81;\n    lectures on his philosophy in Paris, 115;\n    few copies of his works in the United States, 116.\n\n  _Knickerbocker Magazine_, articles on transcendentalism in, 137.\n\n\n  L.\n\n  Laromiguiere, disciple of Condillac, 65.\n\n  Leibnitz, theory of, 15.\n\n  Letters to a Young Theologian, by Herder, 47.\n\n  Lewes, George H., criticism on John Locke cited, 5;\n    _Problems of Life and Mind_, quoted 212.\n\n  Linberg, H. G., translator of Cousin, 75.\n\n  Locke, John, _Essay on the Human Understanding_, 3;\n    called \"Father of Modern Psychology,\" 3;\n    character of his work, 4;\n    opposes the doctrine of innate ideas, his ideas introduced into\n      France, 61;\n    piety of, 62;\n    framed a constitution for the New World, 117;\n    Bancroft on, 118.\n\n  Longfellow, H. W., the transcendental spirit not in his writings, 382.\n\n  Longfellow, Samuel, transcendentalist of the mystical type, 347;\n    hymns by, 347.\n\n  Lord, D. N., writer in Lord's _Theological Journal_, 92.\n\n  Lord's Supper, the, sermon on, by Emerson, 363.\n\n  Lord's Theological Journal, 92.\n\n  Lowell, J. R., his early poems breathe the transcendental spirit, 382.\n\n  Luther, Martin, teaches doctrine of consubstantiation, 364.\n\n\n  M.\n\n  Macaulay, T. B., article on Lord Bacon, quoted, 139.\n\n  Maine de Biran, philosophy of, 65.\n\n  _Margaret_, novel setting forth the gospel of transcendentalism, 382.\n\n  Marsh, Dr. James, translates Herder's Spirit of Hebrew Poetry, 47.\n\n  Martineau, Harriet, calls Alcott the American Pestalozzi, 267.\n\n  Martineau, James, letter of Channing to, 112.\n\n  Mathematics, progress in, 7.\n\n  Maurice, Frederick Denison, admirer of Coleridge, 142.\n\n  May, Rev. S. J., account of Alcott's school, 262.\n\n  Menzel, opinion of Goethe quoted, 57;\n    German Literature, English edition of, 116.\n\n  Mill, principles of sensational philosophy stated by, 205;\n    article on Coleridge, 206;\n    work on logic quoted, 208;\n    commends Taine's work, 212.\n\n\n  N.\n\n  _Nature_, by R. W. Emerson, quoted, 312.\n\n  New England Maga., articles on transcendentalism in, 137.\n\n  New England, transcendentalism in, 105;\n    religion of, 107;\n    idealism in, 115.\n\n  New Hegelians, the, 45.\n\n  New York Review, 92.\n\n  Nominalists, the, tenets maintained by, 2.\n\n  North American Review, 92.\n\n  Norton, Andrews, assails Schleiermacher, 48;\n    attacks transcendentalism, 123;\n    controversy with George Ripley, 124.\n\n  Novalis, article on, by Carlyle, 52;\n    his philosophy defined by Carlyle, 55.\n\n\n  O.\n\n  _Orphic Sayings_ of Alcott quoted, 259.\n\n  Osgood, Samuel, edits DeWette, 116.\n\n\n  P.\n\n  Parker, Theodore, referred to by Channing, enters into the\n      transcendental controversy, 125;\n    contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    work meditated by, 192;\n    strong faith in immortality, 196;\n    \"Levi Blodgett\" letter quoted, 200;\n    blending of realism and transcendentalism in, 305;\n    as a preacher of transcendental views, 308;\n    writings of, 357.\n\n  Passover, the feast of, celebrated by Jesus, 364-366;\n    as kept by Jews, 368.\n\n  Paul of Samosata, advocate of Unitarian theology, 109.\n\n  Peabody, Elizabeth, writes record of a school, 265.\n\n  Pelagius, advocate of Unitarian theology, 109.\n\n  Penn, Wm., framed constitution for the New World, 117;\n    Bancroft on, 118.\n\n  Perfect Life, the work by Dr. Channing, 113.\n\n  Phillips, Wendell, speaks against capital punishment, 337.\n\n  Physics established as a science, 8.\n\n  Platonism, transcendental in its essence, 108.\n\n  Plotinus translated by Bouillet, 61.\n\n  Porter, Noah, writes article in Bibliotheca Sacra, 92.\n\n  Princeton Review, articles on transcendentalism in, 137.\n\n  Priestley, Joseph, able representative of Unitarianism, 185.\n\n  Pythagoras, the ancient teacher of dietetics, 151;\n    H. B. Alcott on, 251.\n\n\n  Q.\n\n  Quakerism, tribute to, by George Bancroft, 117;\n    compared with transcendentalism, 119.\n\n\n  R.\n\n  Rahn, Johanna, letter of Fichte to, 29.\n\n  _Rationale of Religious Inquiry_, by Martineau, 123.\n\n  Ravaisson, Felix, writes reports on French philosophy, 61.\n\n  Realists, the, tenets maintained by, 2.\n\n  Religious affections, the, treatise on, by Jonathan Edwards, 108.\n\n  Remusat, Charles de, writer on French philosophy, 61.\n\n  Review, North American, account of Herder in, 47.\n\n  Reymond, Dubois, address to German naturalists quoted, 250.\n\n  Richter, Carlyle on his philosophy, 55;\n    works of, 56.\n\n  Ripley, George, his account of Herder, 47;\n    account of Schleiermacher, 48;\n    estimate of Cousin's philosophy, 74;\n    edits specimens of foreign standard literature, 116;\n    review of James Martineau, 123;\n    reply to Andrews Norton, 125;\n    contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133;\n    his influence in spreading transcendentalism, 322;\n    published works of, 324;\n    controversy with Andrews Norton, 325;\n    at Brook Farm, 325.\n\n  Ripley, George, edits \"The Harbinger,\" 328;\n    literary critic of \"The Tribune,\" 332.\n\n  Robbins, Samuel D., quoted, 145.\n\n  Romanism not at home in New England, 107.\n\n  Rousseau, J. J., the ideas of the new philosophy expressed by, 17.\n\n  Rousselot writes on philosophy of the middle age, 61.\n\n  Royer-Collard, French followers of the Scotch school, 66.\n\n  Russell edits first journal of education, 262.\n\n\n  S.\n\n  Saint Hilaire, Barthelemy, French philosopher, 61.\n\n  Saisset, Emil, translates Spinoza, 61.\n\n  Schelling, system of philosophy, 40-43;\n    _Transcendental Idealism_ published, 80;\n    few copies of his works found in the United States, 116.\n\n  Schiller, letter on Kant's philosophy quoted, 54;\n    on Richter, 54.\n\n  Schleiermacher, influence of, 48;\n    quoted, 49;\n    philosophy of, 50;\n    students of, in the United States, 116;\n    faith in God promoted by, 122.\n\n  Schoolmen, the, their use of the word transcendental, 11.\n\n  Sensationalism in England, 2;\n    reaction against, 188;\n    the God of, 190;\n    ideas of immortality, 193-197;\n    its philosophy revived by Mill and others, 205.\n\n  Shaw, Francis G., translates Consuelo for \"The Harbinger,\" 329.\n\n  Simon, Jules, explains the Alexandrian school, 61.\n\n  Skepticism in France, 18th century, 187;\n    brought to America, 188.\n\n  Smith, William, publishes memoirs of Fichte (1845), 27.\n\n  Socialists, New York union of, 339.\n\n  Socinius, advocate of Unitarian theology, 109.\n\n  Southern Literary Messenger, 92.\n\n  _Specimens of Foreign Standard Literature_, edited by George Ripley, 116.\n\n  Spencer, principles of the sensational philosophy stated by, 205;\n    system of, hostile to intuitive philosophy, 208.\n\n  Spinoza, translated by Saisset, 61.\n\n  Spirit of Hebrew poetry, by Herder, 47.\n\n  Stael, Madame de, gives an account of Kant's philosophy, 115.\n\n  Stahl, experiments of, 8.\n\n  Stone, Thomas T., article in \"The Dial\" quoted, 144.\n\n  St. Paul, his view of the Lord's Supper, 371.\n\n  Strauss a disciple of Hegel, 186.\n\n\n  T.\n\n  Taine, principles of the sensational philosophy stated by, 205;\n    work on Intelligence quoted, 212;\n    criticism of Tyndall, 212.\n\n  Talfourd, Sergeant, his account of Coleridge, 90.\n\n  Tennyson, Alfred, rising glory of, 103.\n\n  Thoreau, Henry D., contributes to \"The Dial,\" 133.\n\n  Tissot translates Kant into French, 61.\n\n  Torricelli, experiments of, 8.\n\n  Transcendentalism, chiefly communicated through German literature, 51;\n    influence on German literature, 51;\n    its apostles in the New World, 103;\n    in New England, 105;\n    borders on Platonism, 107;\n    an enlarged orthodoxy, 108;\n    imported in foreign packages, 115;\n    Quakerism compared with, 119;\n    advocated by James Walker, 122;\n    attacked by Andrews Norton, 123;\n    legitimate fruits of, 143;\n    defined by Emerson, 127;\n    literary achievements of, 132;\n    essentially poetic, 134;\n    a distinct system of philosophy, 136;\n    misconceptions of, 138;\n    practical usefulness of the disciples of, 140;\n    objections to, 149;\n    inaugurated the practice of dietetics, 150;\n    favorable to all reform movements, 155;\n    ideas of women, 181;\n    relation to questions of religion, 184;\n    reaction against sensationalism, 189;\n    the faith of, 190-192;\n    asserts immortality of the soul, 193-196;\n    accepts the miracles, 201;\n    its view of Christianity, 204;\n    superseded by idealism, 215;\n    as a gospel, 302;\n    end of one phase of, 332;\n    defined by Bartol, 342;\n    minor followers of, 355-356;\n    literature of, 357-372.\n\n  Trinitarianism of Platonic origin, 107;\n    avowed by idealists, 109;\n    its debt to Unitarianism, 113.\n\n  Tuckerman, H. T., writes for Southern Literary Messenger, 92.\n\n  Tuebingen, follower of the Hegelian idea, 186.\n\n  Tyndall, John, address of, quoted, 210;\n    objections to, by Taine, 212.\n\n\n  U.\n\n  Unitarians, the, belong to the school of Locke, 109;\n    of New England, 110;\n    friends to free thought, 114.\n\n  Unitarianism represented in England by Priestley, 115.\n\n\n  V.\n\n  Vacherot, Etienne, explains the Alexandrian school, 61.\n\n  Vere, Aubrey de, lines on Coleridge, 78.\n\n  Volney popular in the eighteenth century, 187.\n\n  Voltaire introduces Locke's ideas into France, 61;\n    the great name among eighteenth century skeptics, 187.\n\n\n  W.\n\n  Walker, James, avows transcendental views, 120;\n    quoted, 120, 121;\n    his theory of moral intuition, 215.\n\n  Wasson, D. A., sermons and poems of, 349.\n\n  Wedgewood, Josiah and Thomas, send Coleridge to Germany, 79.\n\n  Weiss, John, philosophical writings and translations, 351.\n\n  Westminster Review contains article by Mill, 206.\n\n  Whig Review, articles on transcendentalism in, 137.\n\n  Whittier, John G., under the sway of transcendental ideas, 382.\n\n  Wordsworth, Wm., in Germany with Coleridge, 79;\n    kinship between Coleridge and, 96;\n    his poetry discussed in _Biographia Literaria_, 97;\n    preface to his poems quoted, 100;\n    _Ode to Immortality and Excursion_ quoted, 101;\n    the poets of the transcendentalists, 103;\n    lines from, quoted, 141.\n\n\n\n\nBOOKS BY OCTAVIUS B. FROTHINGHAM.\n\n\nTHE RELIGION OF HUMANITY. AN ESSAY.\n\nThird Edition--Revised. 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ELMENDORF,\n     Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy in Racine College. 12mo,\n     Cloth, (in press.)\n\n\nG. P. PUTNAM'S SONS,\n182 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\n    TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:\n\n    Obvious typographical and printer errors have been corrected without\n    comment.\n\n    Inconsistencies in use of spelling, punctuation and accent marks\n    have been retained as in the original version.\n\n    Page numbers have added for two items in the index which did not\n    have page references:\n\n    Plotinus.... page 61\n    Lord's Supper.... page 363\n\n    Quotation marks around quoted verses of poetry are used\n    inconsistently. When only a closing quotation mark was present in\n    the original, an opening quote has been added. When no quotation\n    marks were present, none have been added.\n\n    Footnotes have been moved to the end of the paragraph containing the\n    footnote tag.","title":"Transcendentalism in New England: A History","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":106776}