{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_53683/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_53683","id":"gutenberg_53683","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53683","summary":null,"tags":["Alcott, Amos Bronson, 1799-1888","Category: History - American","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Fruitlands (Harvard, Mass.)"],"text":"BRONSON ALCOTT\u2019S\n FRUITLANDS\n\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE OLD HOUSE AT FRUITLANDS, HARVARD, MASSACHUSETTS\n\n In front are the mulberry trees planted by the philosophers for the\n propagation of silkworms.\n]\n\n\n\n\n BRONSON ALCOTT\u2019S FRUITLANDS\n\n\n COMPILED BY\n CLARA ENDICOTT SEARS\n\n WITH\n _TRANSCENDENTAL WILD OATS_\n\n BY\n LOUISA M. ALCOTT\n\n[Illustration]\n\n BOSTON AND NEW YORK\n HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY\n The Riverside Press Cambridge\n 1915\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n COPYRIGHT, 1876, BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT; 1904, BY JOHN S. P. ALCOTT; 1915,\n BY CLARA ENDICOTT SEARS\n\n ALL RIGHTS RESERVED\n\n _Published May 1915_\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n NOTE\n\n\nI desire to express my thanks to Mr. John S. Pratt Alcott, of Brookline;\nMr. F. B. Sanborn, of Concord; Dr. Joseph Wiswall Palmer, of Fitchburg;\nand Mr. Alvin Holman, of Leominster, for facts and data concerning the\nConsociate Family at Fruitlands, and for their assistance in collecting\nand acquiring the greater part of the original furniture which was there\nin the days of the Community.\n\nAnd I further thank Mr. John S. Pratt Alcott for the privilege of\nincluding Louisa\u2019s and Anna\u2019s Diaries at Fruitlands, and Mr. Alcott and\nMessrs. Little, Brown & Company for the use of Louisa M. Alcott\u2019s\n_Transcendental Wild Oats_.\n\n CLARA ENDICOTT SEARS.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n FOREWORD\n\n\nFor many years articles have appeared from time to time in magazines and\nbooks regarding the Community at Fruitlands, but it has remained for\nMiss Sears to gather them together with infinite patience for\npublication, and this little book is the result, the first connected\nstory of the life and beliefs of that little Community which tried so\nhard to live according to its ideals in spite of criticism and censure\nand whose members nearly starved as a result of their devotion.\n\nA great deal of credit is due to Miss Sears for her success in gathering\nmaterial to make this story of Fruitlands so complete, and I take this\nopportunity, as the oldest surviving member of the Alcott family, of\nexpressing to her our gratitude for the very interesting and complete\naccount of the Fruitlands experiment.\n\n JOHN S. P. ALCOTT.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS\n\n\n INTRODUCTION xiii\n\n I. A NEW EDEN 1\n\n II. THE FOUNDING OF FRUITLANDS 21\n\n II. BROOK FARM AND FRUITLANDS 35\n\n IV. THE MAN WITH THE BEARD 53\n\n V. SUMMER SUNSHINE 68\n\n VI. FATHER HECKER\u2019S DESCRIPTION OF FRUITLANDS 75\n\n VII. ANNA ALCOTT\u2019S DIARY AT FRUITLANDS 86\n\n VIII. LOUISA MAY ALCOTT\u2019S DIARY AT FRUITLANDS 106\n\n IX. AUTUMN DISAPPOINTMENT 112\n\n X. IN AFTER YEARS 130\n\n XI. TRANSCENDENTAL WILD OATS. BY LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 145\n\n APPENDIX: CATALOGUE OF THE ORIGINAL FRUITLANDS LIBRARY 175\n\n\n\n\n ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n THE OLD HOUSE AT FRUITLANDS, HARVARD, MASSACHUSETTS _Frontispiece_\n\n In front are the mulberry trees planted by the\n philosophers for the propagation of silkworms.\n\n\n A. BRONSON ALCOTT AT THE AGE OF 53 4\n\n _From the portrait by Mrs. Hildreth._\n\n\n ABIGAIL MAY, MRS. A. BRONSON ALCOTT 4\n\n _From a daguerreotype._\n\n\n THE SMALL ENTRY WHERE THE VALUABLE BOOKS WERE KEPT 10\n\n\n THE STUDY 28\n\n A bust of Socrates stands on the fine old Dutch\n highboy that Joseph Palmer brought from No Town.\n\n\n CHARLES LANE 42\n\n\n THE SMALL DINING-ROOM 48\n\n Around this table the philosophers discussed their\n deepest problems.\n\n\n NANCY AND JOSEPH PALMER 56\n\n\n THE REFECTORY, ALSO USED AS A KITCHEN 68\n\n\n ISAAC T. HECKER 76\n\n\n LOUISA, ANNA, AND ABBA MAY ALCOTT 88\n\n\n THE COMMUNITY SETTLE 100\n\n\n WHERE ABBA MAY\u2019S STOCKING WAS HUNG THE NIGHT BEFORE HER 106\n BIRTHDAY\n\n Anna\u2019s bedroom is on the right, next to Mrs.\n Alcott\u2019s. The portraits of the \u201cLittle Women\u201d hang\n on the wall.\n\n\n THE OUTER KITCHEN 116\n\n\n CHARLES LANE\u2019S ROOM 124\n\n The old cowhide trunk, in which some of the most\n valuable of the books were shipped from London; also\n the old chest in which the linen was kept. The\n spinning-wheel belonged to a former owner.\n\n\n THE BEDROOM 128\n\n Where Mr. Alcott nearly succumbed to his despair at\n the failure of his \u201cNew Eden.\u201d\n\n\n ORCHARD HOUSE AT CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS 172\n\n The Alcott home of later years.\n\n\n\n\n INTRODUCTION\n\n\nLongfellow wrote:\u2014\n\n \u201cAll houses wherein men have lived and died\n Are haunted houses. Through the open doors\n The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,\n With feet that make no sound upon the floors.\n\n \u201cWe meet them at the doorway, on the stair,\n Along the passages they come and go,\n Impalpable impressions on the air,\n A sense of something moving to and fro.\n\n * * * * *\n\n \u201cWe have no title-deeds to house or lands;\n Owners and occupants of earlier dates\n From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,\n And hold in mortmain still their old estates.\n\n \u201cThe spirit world around this world of sense\n Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere\n Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense\n A vital breath of more ethereal air.\u201d\n\nI found myself reciting these lines whenever my eyes rested upon the old\nhouse of Fruitlands. From my terrace on the hill I looked down upon it\nwith mixed feelings of pity, awe, and affection. It seemed like a\nPresence, a ghost of the Past, that compelled the eyes to gaze at it\npersistently. In the warm joyousness of the spring sunshine, or when the\ncold mists of autumn crept across the valley, it conveyed to me the same\nsense of desolation, of mystery, of disillusionment. Its broken windows\nlooked like hollow eyes sunken in an ashen and expressionless face.\nWithin its walls life and death had come and gone;\u2014laughter and the\nsound of weeping had echoed through the quaint, low-ceilinged rooms. It\nhad been the sheltering home of British yeomen. Its heavy chestnut beams\nbore record of the virgin forests of the Colonies. The thrill of\npatriotism had vibrated there when the sword of the Revolution swept the\nland, and the sound of drum and fife, leading the hurrying feet of eager\nvolunteers to Concord and Lexington, must have reached the quiet\nhillside and stirred the hearts of those listening in the doorway. Those\nwere the brave and vital days of its youth. In seed-time and harvest it\nhad smiled upon the valley, its shingles warm and ruddy with ochre-red.\nAt Yule-tide the log had been chosen with fitting ceremony and placed\nwithin the broad and spacious chimney. The old and the young had feasted\nand made merry to the sound of the crackling fire-music. Who can tell\nwhat memories of happiness and romance the old house contains?\n\n * * * * *\n\nThen came a period of quiet years, when the meadows and pastures grew\nrich and fertile, the upturned soil yielded abundant harvests, and the\nbranches of the apple trees hung heavy with fruit. But it was when the\nold house had begun to settle and look decrepid, and its floors had\nbecome shaky and uneven, that its door opened wide to its supreme\nexperience. Then Fruitlands was exalted into the New Eden. The two names\ncame to it simultaneously. It was to pulsate with lofty ideals and\naltruistic aspirations. For one perfect summer and mellow autumn its\nrunning brook, its shady grove, its fertile meadows and sloping pasture,\nits western view, so beautiful at sundown, of Wachusett and Monadnoc,\nand the chain of purple hills, were to be the inspiration of a group of\nindividuals then known as the transcendental philosophers, and through\nthem Fruitlands became famous. Within its walls great questions were\ndiscussed, great hopes for the betterment and enlightenment of mankind\nwere generated. Alcott, Charles Lane, Wright, Bower, Emerson, Hawthorne,\nChanning, Thoreau, and many others went in and out of its doors; and\nlast, but not least, the child, Louisa May Alcott, who later became our\nwell-loved New England authoress, and Joseph Palmer, a Crusader in\nspirit as well as in actions, who suffered for his principle of wearing\na beard at a time when it was looked upon as a badge of scorn and\ncontempt, and which won for him the name of \u201cthe Old Jew.\u201d When the\nbeautiful dream was over; when the New Eden proved to be only an empty\nmockery of the vision it had once inspired; when the great experience\nhad ended in failure, then the old house sagged pitifully as if its\nheart had broken: the winter storms and summer rains of the succeeding\nyears washed all color from its face: it became gray and haggard. Joseph\nPalmer and his wife lingered on in old age, and then passed out into the\nBeyond. Their children and grandchildren clung to the place for a space\nof years, but its history was over. It was left desolate and abandoned.\n\n * * * * *\n\nSo as I looked down on it from my terrace on the hill, pitying its\ninfinite loneliness, the thought came to me that I must save it. If for\na time it had borne the semblance of a New Eden, then that time must be\nhonored, and not forgotten. I longed to see it smiling again upon the\nvalley in its glowing coat of ochre-red. The fine old chimneys must be\nput back in their places from which they had been ruthlessly torn down\nto make room for stoves. The hollow eyes must gleam again with\nwindow-panes; the sound of voices must ring once more through the empty\nrooms. In the future it must be cherished for its quaintly interesting\nhistory. If that history was full of pathos, if the great experiment\nenacted beneath its roof proved a failure, the failure was only in the\nmeans of expression and not in the ideal which inspired it. Humanity\nmust ever reach out towards a New Eden. Succeeding generations smile at\nthe crude attempts, and forthwith make their own blunders, but each\nattempt, however seemingly unsuccessful, must of necessity contain a\ngerm of spiritual beauty which will bear fruit. Let no one cross the\nthreshold of the old house with a mocking heart. Looking back from our\npresent coigne of vantage, we, too, cannot but smile at the childlike\nsimplicity and credulity, and the lack of forethought of those\nunpractical enthusiasts. But let it be the smile of tenderness and not\nof derision. In this material age we cannot afford to lose any details\nof so unique and picturesque a memory as that of A. Bronson Alcott and\nthe \u201cCon-Sociate Family\u201d at Fruitlands.\n\n\n\n\n BRONSON ALCOTT\u2019S\n FRUITLANDS\n\n\n\n\n I\n\n A NEW EDEN\n\n\nThe following account of the Fruitlands Community is largely a\ncompilation of writings regarding it by eye-witnesses and those in close\ntouch with its members. This is the surest way of forming a just\nestimate of the experiment and the characters involved.\n\nMr. Frank B. Sanborn, in his book entitled \u201cBronson Alcott,\u201d describes\nin a few short sentences the circumstances which led up to the formation\nof the Community, and this is what he says:\u2014\n\n\u201cJames Pierrepont Greaves was an Englishman born in 1777, who at the age\nof forty went to reside in Switzerland with Pestalozzi, for four years,\nand there adopted, a few years before young Alcott did, the chief ideas\nof Pestalozzi, as to the training of children. Returning to England in\n1825, he gradually formed a circle of mystics and reformers, in London\nand its vicinity, who were, like himself, interested in the early\ninstruction and training of children. Hearing from Harriet Martineau,\nupon her return from America in 1837, of Mr. Alcott\u2019s Temple School at\nBoston, and thinking more favorably of it than Miss Martineau did, Mr.\nGreaves opened a correspondence with the American Pestalozzi, and\nreceived from him some of his books,\u2014Miss Peabody\u2019s \u2018Records of a\nSchool,\u2019 and Mr. Alcott\u2019s \u2018Conversations on the Gospels.\u2019 From these\nbooks, and from his correspondence, Mr. Greaves and his friends, William\nOldham, Mrs. Chichester, Charles Lane, Heraud, and others, formed so\nhigh an estimate of Bronson Alcott\u2019s talents and character, that they\nnamed for him the English school they were about establishing near\nLondon, and called it \u2018Alcott House.\u2019 They also urged Mr. Alcott to\nvisit them in England and to take part in their schemes and labors. He\nwas well inclined to do this; and in 1842 he set sail for London, where,\nlate in May, he received a hearty welcome from his correspondents and\ntheir circle, with the exception of Mr. Greaves, who had died earlier in\nthe same year.\u201d\n\nMr. Emerson furnished the money for Mr. Alcott\u2019s trip to England. The\nfollowing letter was written by Bronson Alcott to his cousin Dr. William\nAlcott:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\n ALCOTT HOUSE,\n HAM COMMON, SURREY,\n June 30, 1842.\n\n... I am now at Alcott House, which is ten miles from London; where I\nfind the principles of human culture, which have so long interested me,\ncarried into practical operation by wise and devoted friends of\neducation. The school was opened five years ago and has been thus far\nquite successful. It consists of thirty or more children, and some of\nthem not more than three years of age,\u2014all fed and lodged at the House.\nThe strictest temperance is observed in diet and regimen. Plain bread\nwith vegetables and fruits is their food, and water their only drink.\nThey bathe always before their morning lesson, and have exercises in the\nplay-grounds, which are ample, besides cultivating the gardens of the\ninstitution. They seem very happy and not less in the school-room than\nelsewhere.\n\nMr. Wright has more genius for teaching than any person I have before\nseen\u2014his method and temper are admirable, and all parties, from\nassistants, of which there are several, to the youngest child delight in\nhis presence and influence. He impersonates and realizes my own idea of\nan education, and is the first person whom I have met that has entered\ninto this divine art of inspiring the human clay, and moulding it into\nthe stature and image of divinity. I am already knit to him by more than\nhuman ties, and must take him with me to America, as a coadjutor in our\nhigh vocation, or else remain with him here. But I hope to effect the\nfirst.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_The Healthian_ is edited here by Mr. Wright and Mr. Lane, and they\ncontribute to almost every reform journal in the kingdom. They are not\nignorant of our labors in the United States, almost every work of any\nvalue I find in the library at Alcott House,\u2014your own works, those of\nMr. Graham (a vegetarian), besides foreign authors not to be found with\nus. I shall bring with me many books, both ancient and modern, on my\nreturn to America.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIt was during his sojourn in England in 1842 that the idea of creating\n\u201ca New Eden,\u201d as he loved to call it, took firm root in Alcott\u2019s mind. A\nmore quaintly unique character than his cannot be found in all the\nannals of our literary history. His unquenchable aspirations after the\nideal life caught the imagination of men and women ready to break away\nfrom the narrowing tendency of the Orthodox faith of the time. He was\nboth loved and derided. A transcendentalist pure and simple;\nunpractical; a dreamer and visionary in every sense of the word; yet his\nmind emitted flashes of genius so unerring and decisive as to elicit the\nspontaneous admiration of Ralph Waldo Emerson and impel him to write in\nhis journal the following tributes:\u2014\n\n[Illustration:\n\n A. BRONSON ALCOTT AT THE AGE OF 53\n\n From the portrait by Mrs. Hildreth.\n]\n\n[Illustration:\n\n ABIGAIL MAY, MRS. A. BRONSON ALCOTT\n\n From a daguerreotype.\n]\n\n\u201cThe comfort of Alcott\u2019s mind is, the connection in which he sees\nwhatever he sees. He is never dazzled by a spot of colour, or a gleam of\nlight, to value the thing by itself; but forever and ever is\nprepossessed by the individual one behind it and all. I do not know\nwhere to find in men or books a mind so valuable to faith in others.\n\n\u201cFor every opinion or sentence of Alcott a reason may be sought and\nfound, not in his will or fancy, but in the necessity of Nature itself,\nwhich has daguerred that fatal impression on his susceptible soul. He is\nas good as a lens or a mirror, a beautiful susceptibility, every\nimpression on which is not to be reasoned against, or derided, but to be\naccounted for, and until accounted for, registered as an indisputable\naddition to our catalogue of natural facts. There are defects in the\nlens, and errors of retraction and position, etc., to be allowed for,\nand it needs one acquainted with the lens by frequent use, to make these\nallowances; but \u2018tis the best instrument I have met with.\u201d[1]\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n Emerson\u2019s _Journal_, 1856.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201cOnce more for Alcott it is to be said that he is sincerely and\nnecessarily engaged to his task and not wilfully or ostentatiously or\npecuniarily. Mr. Johnson at Manchester said of him, \u2018He is universally\ncompetent. Whatever question is asked, he is prepared for.\u2019\n\n\u201cI shall go far and see many, before I find such an extraordinary\ninsight as Alcott\u2019s. In his fine talk last evening, he ran up and down\nthe scale of powers with much ease and precision as a squirrel the wires\nof his cage, and is never dazzled by his means, or by any particular,\nand a fine heroic action or a poetic passage would make no impression on\nhim, because he expects heroism and poetry in all. Ideal Purity, the\npoet, the artist, the man must have. I have never seen any person who so\nfortifies the believer, so confutes the skeptic. And the almost uniform\nrejection of this man by men of parts, Carlyle and Browning inclusive,\nand by women of piety, might make one despair of society. If he came\nwith a cannonade of acclaim from all nations, as the first wit on the\nplanet, these masters would sustain the reputation; or if they could\nfind him in a book a thousand years old, with a legend of miracles\nappended, there would be churches of disciples; but now they wish to\nknow if his coat is out at the elbows, or whether somebody did not hear\nfrom somebody, that he has got a new hat etc. He has faults, no doubt,\nbut I may safely know more about them than he does; and some that are\nmost severely imputed to him are only the omissions of a preoccupied\nmind.\u201d[2]\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201cLast night in the conversation Alcott appeared to great advantage, and\nI saw again, as often before, his singular superiority. As pure\nintellect I have never seen his equal. The people with whom he talks do\nnot ever understand him. They interrupt him with clamorous dissent, or\nwhat they think verbal endorsement of what they fancy he may have been\nsaying, or with \u2018Do you know Mr. Alcott I think thus and so,\u2019\u2014some whim\nor sentimentalism, and do not know that they have interrupted his large\nand progressive statement; do not know that all they have in their baby\nbrains is incoherent and spotty; that all he sees and says is like\nastronomy, lying there real and vast, every part and fact in eternal\nconnection with the whole, and that they ought to sit in silent\ngratitude, eager only to hear more, to hear the whole, and not interrupt\nhim with their prattle. It is because his sight is so clear, commanding\nthe whole ground, and he perfectly gifted to state adequately what he\nsees, that he does not lose his temper when glib interlocutors bore him\nwith their dead texts and phrases.\u2014Power is not pettish, but want of\npower is.\u201d[2]\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n Emerson\u2019s _Journal_, 1856.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201cYesterday Alcott left me after three days spent here. I had laid down a\nman and had waked up a bruise, by reason of a bad cold, and was lumpish,\ntardy and cold. Yet I could see plainly that I conversed with the most\nextraordinary man and the highest genius of the time. He is a man. He is\nerect; he sees, let whoever be overthrown or parasitic or blind. Life he\nwould have and enact, and not nestle into any cast-off shell or form of\nthe old time, and now proposes to preach to the people, or to take his\nstaff and walk through the country, conversing with the school-teachers,\nand holding conversations in the villages. And so he ought to go,\npublishing through the land his gospel like them of old time.\u201d[3]\n\nFootnote 3:\n\n Emerson\u2019s _Journal_, 1857.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIt was not unnatural that these gifts, fully acknowledged by so eminent\na man as Emerson, should have won to him the respect and devotion of\nthese Englishmen, who were living in the same atmosphere of thought in\nwhich Bronson Alcott lived and moved and had his being. And so after\nmuch discussion and many plans, illumined by great hopes and a deep\nenthusiasm, Charles Lane and Mr. Alcott collected a valuable library of\nbooks mostly on mysticism and all occult subjects for the future Eden,\nand with William Lane, who was Charles Lane\u2019s son, Wright, and Samuel\nBowers, sailed for America, their immediate destination being the home\nin Concord where Mrs. Alcott and her daughters, then very young, were\nwaiting to receive them.\n\nConcord named the strangers \u201cthe English Mystics\u201d and received them\ncordially into the inner circle of literary men which formed the group\nnow spoken of as the \u201cConcord Philosophers.\u201d Emerson, Thoreau,\nHawthorne, Ellery Channing, and others became their friends, and\nlistened to their plans for forming universal brotherhood. Emerson\u2019s\ndescription of Charles Lane was this:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201cA man of fine intellectual nature, inspired and hallowed by a profound\nfaith. This is no man of letters, but a man of ideas. Deep opens below\ndeep in his thought, and for the solution of each new problem, he\nrecurs, with new success to the highest truth, to that which is most\ngenerous, most simple, and most powerful; to that which cannot be\ncomprehended, or overseen, or exhausted. His words come to us like the\nvoices of home out of a far country.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn the mean time the trunks containing the books chosen in England with\nso much care were opened, and lists were made of their contents. It was\neither Emerson or Thoreau who inserted a notice of them in \u201cThe Dial,\u201d\nthe famous periodical to which the literary men and women of this noted\ncircle contributed. It ran thus: \u201cMr. Alcott and Mr. Lane have recently\nbrought from England a small, but valuable library, amounting to about\n1000 volumes, containing undoubtedly a richer collection of mystical\nwriters than any other library in this country. To the select library of\nthe late J. P. Greaves, \u2018held by Mr. Lane in trust for universal ends,\u2019\nthey have added many works of a like character, by purchase or received\nas gifts. In their Catalogue ... they say, \u2018The titles of these books\nare now submitted, in the expectation that this Library is the\ncommencement of an Institution for the nurture of men in universal\nfreedom of action, thought, and being. We print this list, not only\nbecause our respect is engaged to views so liberal, but because the\narrival of this cabinet of mystic and theosophic lore is a remarkable\nfact in our literary history.\u2019\u201d\n\nMr. Sanborn, referring to this library in his \u201cBronson Alcott,\u201d says:\n\u201cIt was this collection which, in the summer of 1843, occupied a hundred\nfeet of shelving in the old red farmhouse at Fruitlands.\u201d\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE SMALL ENTRY WHERE THE VALUABLE BOOKS WERE KEPT\n]\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe problem of where to establish the New Eden became the great and\nvital question of the moment. Many suggestions were offered from many\nquarters, but the great impediment to a definite decision was the lack\nof funds. Mr. Alcott had no money to spare to put into a farm such as\nthey required, and the group of friends were interested, but not wholly\nconvinced of the feasibility of the scheme, and hung back when it came\nto a question of investment. This very doubt fanned the flame of desire\nin Mr. Alcott and Charles Lane to prove to the world the value of their\ncherished dream. So it came about that Charles Lane took the burden of\npaying for a farm on his own shoulders, and he wrote the following\nletter to Mr. Alcott\u2019s brother, Junius Alcott, on March 7, 1843:\u2014\n\n\u201cI hope the little cash I have collected from my London toils will\nsuffice to redeem a small spot on the planet, that we may rightly use\nfor the right owner. I would very much prefer a small example of true\nlife to a large society in false and selfish harmony. Please put your\nbest worldly thoughts to the subject and favor me with your view as to\nhow and where we could best lay out $1800 or $2000 in land, with\norchard, wood, and house. Some of the land must be now fit for the\nspade, as we desire to give all animals their freedom. We feel it\ndesirable to keep within the range of Mind and Letters; or rather to\nkeep refinement within our range, that we may be the means of improving\nor reproving it, without being injured by it.\u201d\n\nBefore this Mr. Alcott had written a letter to Isaac T. Hecker, later\nknown as Father Hecker, head of the Paulist Brotherhood, and in it he\ndescribed the idea they had in mind. At that time Father Hecker was at\nBrook Farm, but was restless and dissatisfied with the life there,\ncraving a more ascetic existence; and knowing this, Alcott felt\nconfident of his sympathy and stated the salient points of the scheme to\nhim:\u2014\n\nOur purposes, as far as we know them at present, are briefly these:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\nFirst, to obtain the free use of a spot of land adequate by our own\nlabor to our support; including, of course, a convenient plain house,\nand offices, wood-lot, garden, and orchard.\n\nSecondly, to live independently of foreign aids by being sufficiently\nelevated to procure all articles for subsistence in the productions of\nthe spot, under a regimen of healthful labor and recreation; with\nbenignity toward all creatures, human and inferior; with beauty and\nrefinement in all economics; and the purest charity throughout our\ndemeanor.\n\nShould this kind of life attract parties toward us\u2014individuals of like\naims and issues\u2014that state of being itself determines the law of\nassociation; and the particular mode may be spoken of more definitely as\nindividual cases may arise; but in no case, could inferior ends\ncompromise the principles laid down.\n\nDoubtless such a household, with our library, our services and manner of\nlife, may attract young men and women, possibly also families with\nchildren, desirous of access to the channels and fountains of wisdom and\npurity; and we are not without hope that Providence will use us\nprogressively for beneficial effects in the great work of human\nregeneration, and the restoration of the highest life on earth.\n\nWith the humane wish that yourself and little ones may be led to confide\nin providential Love,\n\n I am, dear friend,\n Very truly yours,\n A. BRONSON ALCOTT.\n\nFebruary 15, 1843.\n\n * * * * *\n\nFinally a decision was arrived at, and in a letter to Mr. Oldham,\nCharles Lane narrates how it came about. It was written from Concord,\nMay 31, 1843:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\nMY DEAR FRIEND:\u2014\n\n... Mr. Alcott and I walked up the river to a place called the Cliffs,\nwhere is a young orchard of 16 acres and woodland below. He came home\nwith his head full of poetic schemes for a cottage, etc., on this spot.\nI, however, came home first and found that a man had been sent by the\nyoung man who walked with me to Southborough, having a farm to sell at\nHarvard, 14 miles off. He proposed to take me directly to see it, but I\nwas fatigued, so Samuel Larned, the visitor who came up with Mr. Wright,\nwent in the waiting vehicle. The next morning being very fine Mr. Alcott\nand I walked there, not knowing his name, but we ascertained it to be\nWyman; we saw his place, consisting of 90 acres, 14 of them wood, a few\napple and other fruit trees, plenty of nuts and berries, much of the\nland very good; the prospect from the highest part very sublime. The\nhouse and barn very poor, but the water excellent and plentiful. The\ncapabilities are manifold, but the actualities humble. For the whole he\nasked 2700 dollars, which being beyond my means, we had much talk when\nhe offered to sell the land for 1800 dollars and to lend us the\nbuildings gratis for a year. I should observe it is extremely retired,\nthere being no road to it. On these terms we have closed. He gives us\nthe few crops he has just planted and grass to a considerable amount\nwill soon be cut. I have slept a night or two there. William and two\nfriends (Larned and Abram Everett, called the \u201cPlain Man\u201d in the\n_Vermont Telegraph_) and a hired man remain there, and the family are to\nstart early to-morrow morning, so now for plenty of work of all sorts.\nNinety acres; much of it first rate; some worth 100 dollars per acre,\nthe whole 20 dollars per acre; would that some of the English honest\nhalf-starved were on it! This, I think you will admit, looks like an\nattempt at something which will entitle transcendentalism to some\nrespect for its practicality.... We have very much to do, but the\noccasions are opportune. I think Mr. Emerson is not so well pleased with\nour departure as he would be with our company, but as he did nothing to\nkeep us we must go. It appeared to me that for the hopefulness of many,\nit was needful we should make a movement of some kind this year, even\nthough we fail; and Providence seems really to have worked for us....\n\nI thank you very much for the \u00a310; the note arrived very opportunely to\nenable Mr. A. to quit Concord, to do which all his debts must be paid,\nand I need not tell you on whom that falls. Our transactions at present\nleave me about 500 dollars in debt, but every one says we have made a\ngood bargain in the purchase of the land. I seriously hope we are\nforming the basis for something really progressive, call it family or\ncommunity, or what you will....\n\nWe have now plenty of work to do and how we get on I shall faithfully\nreport, though the pen will not do much at present....\n\n Believe me, dear friend,\n Yours steadfastly in the spirit,\n CHARLES LANE.\n\n * * * * *\n\nMr. Sanborn, who above all others has an intimate knowledge of what the\nsituation was, having in later years learned much concerning it from\nEmerson and Alcott and others of that time, makes this comment in his\n\u201cBronson Alcott\u201d:\u2014\n\n\u201cAfter looking at several places in Concord and elsewhere, Lane decided\nto buy the Wyman farm at Harvard, two miles from the village of that\nname, but less than a mile from Still River, another village in the same\ntownship. Alcott would have chosen the Cliffs in Concord, a favorite\nresort of Thoreau and the Emerson family, and Emerson would have\npreferred to retain his friend in his own town; but Lane had rather\navoided Emerson, as not ascetic enough for his abstemious habits, and\nseems to have been not unwilling to withdraw Alcott from what he\nregarded as an unfavorable influence.\u201d\n\nBut when it was all settled, Alcott and his English Mystics entered into\ntheir plan with a touching enthusiasm. Before them lay vistas of glowing\npossibilities. They dreamed dreams and saw visions of a \u201cPeace on Earth,\nGood Will towards Men\u201d such as had never before been realized. There was\nmuch to be done and they were eager to begin,\u2014the days were none too\nlong in which to collect the necessary things before moving to Harvard.\nSo Charles Lane persuaded Samuel Bowers to write to Oldham a description\nof the farm, he himself being too busy to do so. And Bowers writes as\nfollows:\u2014\n\n\u201cCharles Lane wished me to sketch to you the material picture of\nFruitlands and the adjoining scene, but I am unqualified to do justice\nto the subject. The property is very compact and may be a very beautiful\ndomain. It is part a hill sloping down to more valley. Several springs\ngush out from the side of the hill and the water is very good\u2014better I\nthink than is common in Massachusetts. The soil varies much, but the\naverage quality is, I considerately judge, twice, if not thrice as good\nas that of Tytherley.[4] There is about 14 acres of woodland all in the\nvale and adjoining is the Nashua River, on the other side of which,\nwhere the receding lands gently rise, stands a Shaker village (Shirley),\nits extended orchards, corn and grass lands. There is in view a long and\nhigh range of hills, one of which, and that the highest, is famous for\nhaving been the resort of an Indian sachem. The hill is called\nWachusett. Altogether the scene reminded me strongly of the Vale of\nEvesham, in Worcestershire, where seen when one approaches it from\nOxford.\u201d\n\nFootnote 4:\n\n The location of Owen\u2019s Harmony Hall in England.\n\nIt is quite evident that Oldham had written a letter to Charles Lane\nwarning him against assuming too great responsibility in this venture.\nThe question as to whether many enthusiasts would join the Community was\na very crucial one, since it was on this expectation that they based\ntheir plans of running the farm free of debt. In answering the letter he\nasks Oldham to forward certain money due to him. And in his explanation\nsays:\u2014\n\n\u201cI do not see any one to act the money part but myself.\u201d (This refers to\nthe land for the Fruitlands experiment.) \u201cMr. Alcott cannot part with\nme. I deem him too sincere and valuable to quit him, and besides there\nis nothing in the country so well as we can show if we be faithful; but\nrents, debts, and mortgage would destroy us. As to the recruits you\nspeak of, are they good for anything? Are they worth the small passage\nmoney you name? Truly if they are some of them you have at Alcott House,\nI think we should not be much aided by their presence.\n\n\u201cUnderstand, we are not going to open a hospital. We are more\nPythagorean than Christs, we wish to begin with the sound rather than to\nheal the sick. There is grand work here to be done and I must not trifle\nwith it.\u201d\n\nThis matter of getting the right kind of persons to join the Community\nrequired a keen insight into human nature, and on this point Mr. Alcott\nwas not very strong. His own sincerity and depth of purpose were so\ngreat that he looked for these same attributes in every one who\napproached him, and often failed to detect the superficial qualities\nthat lurked underneath the surface enthusiasm of some of his followers.\nAt this time Transcendentalism was rife through the land. Some called it\n\u201cthe Newness.\u201d The expression \u201cApostles of the Newness\u201d was heard on all\nsides. They could be recognized by their long hair, Byronic collars,\nflowing ties, and eccentric habits and manners. Nothing seemed too\nexcessive to prove their emancipation from the shackles of\nconventionality. One day three young men of this kind turned up at Mr.\nEmerson\u2019s at Concord and entered into an animated conversation with him\non his front porch. With them freedom of thought and allegiance to \u201cthe\nNewness\u201d took the strange form of preceding every remark, however\ntrivial, with resounding oaths, which so startled the passers-by, and\nMr. Emerson as well, that he hastily invited them to move round to the\nback of the house where the vibrations of their sulphurous ejaculations\nmight roll harmlessly across the meadow instead of exploding in through\nthe windows of the houses near by.\n\nThat Mr. Emerson was deeply interested in the experiment of creating the\n\u201cNew Eden\u201d at Harvard is shown by the fact that a deed of the land was\nmade out in his name as trustee for Charles Lane. He and Thoreau and the\nrest of the Concord circle viewed the departure with a mixture of\ninterest, curiosity, and anxiety. On June 10, 1843, Emerson wrote to\nThoreau:\u2014\n\n\u201cFrom Mr. Alcott and Mr. Lane at Harvard, we have yet heard nothing.\nThey went away in good spirits, having sent Wood Abram and Larned and\nWilliam Lane before them, with horse and plough, a few days in advance,\nto begin the spring work. Mr. Lane paid me a long visit, in which he was\nmore than I had ever known him gentle and open; and it was impossible\nnot to sympathize with and honor projects that so often seem without\nfeet or hands.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n II\n\n THE FOUNDING OF FRUITLANDS\n\n\nThe original members of the Community that started the unique experiment\nwere Mr. Alcott, his wife, and four small daughters, the Englishman\nCharles Lane and his son William, H. C. Wright (for a short time) and\nSamuel Bower, Isaac T. Hecker, of New York, Christopher Greene and\nSamuel Larned, of Providence, Abraham Everett and Anna Page, Joseph\nPalmer, of Fitchburg, and Abram Wood. The transcendentalism of this last\nindividual showed itself chiefly in insisting upon twisting his name\nhind side before and calling himself \u201cWood Abram.\u201d As this he was always\nknown at Fruitlands. These members did not all arrive at once, but came\nwithin a short time of each other. Wright had shown some dissatisfaction\nalready in the extreme asceticism of the plan of life adopted by Mr.\nAlcott at Concord and he refused to be a regular member of the\nFruitlands Community on this account. In writing to Oldham on the\nsubject Charles Lane says: \u201cI can see no other reason but the simplicity\nand order to which affairs were coming (in the cottage); no butter nor\nmilk, nor cocoa, nor tea, nor coffee. Nothing but fruit, grain, and\nwater was hard for the inside; then regular hours and places, cleaning\nup scraps, etc., was desperate hard for the outside.\u201d\n\nWhen finally the move from Concord to Harvard was made, Mr. Alcott took\nwhat furniture he could with him, such as beds, etc., and the rest was\nsupplied by Joseph Palmer, who carted his over from his old Homestead at\nNo Town outside of Fitchburg.\n\nShortly after the move, Charles Lane sat down and wrote to Thoreau a\ndescription of Fruitlands:\n\n * * * * *\n\n FRUITLANDS, June 7, 1843.\n\nIt is very remotely placed, without a road, surrounded by a beautiful\ngreen landscape of fields and woods, with the distance filled up with\nsome of the loftiest mountains in the State. At present there is much\nhard manual labor, so much that, as you see, my usual handwriting is\nvery greatly suspended. Our house accommodations are poor and scanty;\nbut the greatest want is good female society. Far too much labor\ndevolves on Mrs. Alcott. Besides the occupations of each succeeding day,\nwe form in this ample theatre of hope, many forthcoming scenes. The\nnearer little copse is designed as the site of the cottages. Fountains\ncan be made to descend from their granite sources on the hill-slope to\nevery apartment if desired. Gardens are to displace the warm grazing\nglades on the South, and numerous human beings instead of cattle, shall\nhere enjoy existence.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOn the estate are about 14 acres of wood,\u2014a very sylvan realization,\nwhich only wants a Thoreau\u2019s mind to elevate it to classic beauty. The\nfarther wood offers to the naturalist and the poet an exhaustless haunt;\nand a short cleaning up of the brook would connect our boat with the\nNashua. Such are the designs which Mr. Alcott and I have just sketched,\nas resting from planting we walked around this reserve.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThough to me our mode of life is luxurious in the highest degree, yet\ngenerally it seems to be thought that the setting aside of all impure\ndiet, dirty habits, idle thoughts, and selfish feelings is a source of\nself-denial scarcely to be encountered, or even thought of, in such an\nalluring world as this.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn the course of the next few weeks Lane wrote with much detail to\nOldham:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\n FRUITLANDS, HARVARD, MASS.,\n June 16, 1843.\n\nMY DEAR FRIEND:\u2014\n\nThe morning being rainy I have taken advantage of the suspension of\noutdoor labours to sit down and have a little chat with you of and\nconcerning our doings and progress. The day after I wrote you last all\nthe household effects and all the household were mounted on wheels and\ntrundled to this place; the old little cottage being left as clean as a\nnew book by Mrs. Alcott\u2019s great energy. The day was sharp and cold for\nthe season, but the weather has since come out fine and warm, some days\nhot. We have all been busily engaged in manual operations in the field,\nhouse, wood yard, etc. Planting, ploughing, sowing, cleaning fruit\ntrees, gardening, chopping, sawing, fitting up, etc., etc., have gone at\na rapid rate, as the place was in a very slovenly condition. When tired\nwe have taken a look round the estate to see what was growing, learn the\nshape of it, and its capabilities with more minuteness. It seems to be\nagreed on all hands, and we have opinions from many practical men, that\nwe have not made a bad exchange, even in the commercial sense, of our\ncash for land. Only think, brother Oldham, ninety acres, every one of\nwhich may, in a short time, and without much outlay, be brought into a\nstate fit for spade culture; and much of it very good land, obtained at\nthe rate of 20 dollars or only _four pounds per acre freehold_.\nRecollect, too, this includes fuel and some building material, for there\nare 14 acres of wood, including many trees of edible nuts, and still\nonly 30 miles from a metropolitan city of 110,000 inhabitants.[5] The\nland is most beautifully disposed in hill and valley, and the scenery is\nof a sublime and elevating character. Water abundant and excellent and\nthe springs being on the hill, it may be conveyed anywhere about the\nplace for irrigation, etc. As is common in this district, the principal\npart is meadow and pasture; but we shall go on ploughing up as much as\npossible, sowing crops of clover or buckwheat, and turning them in, so\nas to redeem the land without animal manures, which in practice I find\nto be as filthy as in idea. The use of them is disgusting in the\nextreme. At present, we have about 4 acres in Maize, 1\u00bd in Rye, 1\u00bd in\nOats, 1 in Barley, 2 in Potatoes, nearly 1 in Beans, Peas, Melons,\nSquashes, etc.; there will be some Buckwheat, Turnips, etc., making in\nall about 11 acres arable. We have no Wheat this year. The grass\npromises well, and we may possibly cut 200 dollars\u2019 worth; but by hired\nteams we are now turning up one piece of 8 or 9, and another of 5 acres,\nand mean to attack another 4 or 5 for our next year\u2019s homestead or\ngarden, should we obtain the means of building. The hillside of 12 or 14\nacres pasture is also to be ploughed, directly, if we can; so that the\nwork of reclamation will go rapidly forward. There is a large piece of\npeat land, as black as ink, which, mixed with sand, makes a most\nproductive soil, valued at 200 to 300 dollars per acre; and there is\nsand on our lot within 100 yards. We have been much plagued, and a\nlittle cheated, with the cattle, but our stock is now reduced to one\nyoke of oxen.\n\nFootnote 5:\n\n Boston.\n\nBesides Mr. Alcott, his Wife and Children, myself and William, who is\nvery efficient and active, we have only a Mr. Larned and Abraham [Abram\nEverett]\u2014who appears in the _Vermont Telegraph_ as the \u201cPlain Man.\u201d\nLarned was many months at West Roxbury, is only about 20 years of age,\nhis father was a merchant, and he has been a counting-house man and is\nwhat the world calls genteel. Abraham is about 42, a cooper by trade,\nbut an excellent assistant here, very faithful to every work he\nundertakes, very serious, has had rather deep experience, having been\nimprisoned in a mad house by his relations because he had a little\nproperty, but still he is not a spiritual being, at least not\nconsciously and wishfully so.\n\nI have exchanged more letters with Samuel Bower and he promises to come\nhere to-morrow. If his real state bears out his writings, I think he may\nbe added to the family, otherwise he thinks of looking at Roxbury for\nthe purpose of finding a home there....\n\nMr. Alcott is as persevering in practice as last year we found him to be\nin idea. To do better and better, to _be_ better and better, is the\nconstant theme. His hand is everywhere like his mind. He has held the\nplough with great efficiency, sometimes for the whole day, and by the\nstraightness of his furrow may be said to be giving lessons to the\nprofessed ploughmen, who work in a slovenly manner. We have called in\nthe aid of a carpenter who has made simple shelves for our books, and\nfor the first time our library stands upright as it should do. It\noccupies about 100 feet of shelves.\n\n * * * * *\n\n June 28, 1843.\n\nOn the 19th I received your very kind and newsful letter of the first\ninstant enclosed in Mrs. Chichester\u2019s. Mr. Bower, having kept his\npromise, was here, and I read much of it at breakfast, having also\nanother visitor from Brook Farm, Mr. Hecker [Isaac T. Hecker]. All were\nmuch interested in the facts reported, and Saml. Bower heard your\nremembrances fresh from your pen. You affect him more than any other\nperson. In your next, you will perhaps devote a slip to him and I will\nforward it. He, Larned and Hecker visited the Shakers and were much\nattracted by them. Larned who, on common report, used to oppose them,\ntalks of joining them, so pleasant is their society; at least at\nfirst....\n\nIf I were not at this moment surrounded by so much that is beautiful in\nthe present, hopeful in the future and ennobling in the act, your\naffectionate invitation to Ham would seriously touch me. But by God\u2019s\nblessing something shall be done _here_ which shall reach you _there_.\n_If we can aid the people in any way to let self be conquered, we shall\ndo something._ Lust abounds and love is deserted. Lust of money, of\nfood, of sexuality, of books, of music, of art,\u2014while Love demands the\npowers devoted to these false ends. I thank you for your hint respecting\nworldliness. I believe I am getting on safe ground if I am not already\nlanded. From, or in England you say, I should expect nothing, and I am\nnow in the same predicament here. Every farthing I had is now either put\nin or involved in this affair, and more, for I have put my hand to two\nrather large bills; silly enough, you will say. In a few weeks I expect\nto be literally pennyless, and even unable for want of stage hire to\ntravel to Boston if you send me ever so many orders, of which you\ndiscover I have been so neglectful. No; I think I am now out of the\nmoney world. Let my privation be ever so great, I will never make any\nproperty claim on this effort. It is an offering to the Eternal Spirit,\nand I consider that I have no more right than any other person; and I\nhave arranged the title deeds, as well as I could, to meet that end. I\ncould only consent to return to England on condition of being held free,\nlike a child, from all money entanglements. As no person or association\ncan guarantee this for me, I think it would be better to remain here\nwhere the simple wants can be so easily met, and where there is much\nopportunity for doing good, and more hope as the outward conditions are\nso beautifully free. Would that you were here for a month; we have now\nthe most delightful steady weather you can conceive; we are all dressed\nin our linen tunics, Abraham is ploughing, Larned bringing some turf\nfrom the house, Alcott doing a thousand things, Bower and I have well\ndug a sandy spot for carrots, the children and Lady are busy in their\nrespective ways, and some hirelings are assisting.... Now that\nsomething, though little, is doing, you will find my expressions more\npeaceful. Con-fi-dence in Love I hope will ne\u2019er be wanting in your\naffectionate friend,\n\n CHARLES LANE.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE STUDY\n\n A bust of Socrates stands on the fine old Dutch highboy that Joseph\n Palmer brought from No Town.\n]\n\n * * * * *\n\n FRUITLANDS, HARVARD, MASS.,\n July 30, 1843.\n\nDEAR FRIEND:\u2014\n\n... A few days after I wrote you Samuel Bower joined us and has steadily\nand zealously entered into all the works and speculations we have in\nhand and mind. Mr. Hecker, a very spiritual-minded young man, also has\nbeen with us. He is partner with his brothers at New York in a very\nextensive baking and corn mill business. He has resided several months\nat W. Roxbury, but is by no means satisfied with their schoolboy\ndilettante spiritualism. He will, I believe, go to New York to clear up\nif possible with his family as to the relations on which they are in\nfuture to stand to each other. They appear to be so loving and united a\nfamily with such strong human attachments that, although he has done\nmuch towards breaking away, I fear that in the desire to bring his\nbrothers further into the inner world, he will himself be detained.\n\nMr. Alcott and I returned last evening from a short visit to Boston to\npurchase a few articles, and while there we went out one evening to\nRoxbury[6] where there are 80 or 90 persons playing away their youth and\ndaytime in a miserably joyous, frivolous manner. There are not above\nfour or five who could be selected as really and truly progressing\nbeings. Most of the adults are there to pass \u201ca good time\u201d; the children\nare taught languages, etc.; the animals (in consequence I believe solely\nof Mr. George Ripley\u2019s tendency) occupy a prominent position, there\nbeing no less than 16 cows, besides 4 oxen, a herd of swine, a horse or\ntwo, etc. The milk is sold in Boston, and they buy butter to the extent\nof 500 dollars a year. We had a pleasant summer evening conversation\nwith many of them, but it is only in a few individuals that anything\ndeeper than ordinary is to be found. The Northampton Community is one of\nindustry, the one at Hopedale aims at practical theology, this of\nRoxbury is one of taste; yet it is the best which exists here, and\nperhaps we shall have to say it is the best which can exist. At all\nevents we can go no further than to keep open fields, and as far as we\nhave it open house to _all_ comers. We know very well that if they come\nnot in the right name and nature they will not long remain. Our dietetic\nsystem is a test quite sufficient for many. As far as acres of fine land\nare concerned, you may offer their free use to any free souls who will\ncome here and work them, and any aid we can afford shall be freely\ngiven. The aid of sympathetic companionship is not small, and that at\nleast we can render. To bridge the Atlantic is a trifle if the heart is\nreally set on the attainment of better conditions. Here are they freely\npresented, at a day\u2019s walk from the shore, without a long and expensive\njourney to the West. Please to advertise these facts to all youthful men\nand women; for such are much wanted here. There is now a certain\nopportunity for planting a love colony, the influence of which may be\nfelt for many generations, and more than felt; it may be the beginning\nfor a state of things which shall far transcend itself. They to whom our\nwork seems not good enough may come and set out a better.\n\nFootnote 6:\n\n Brook Farm.\n\nI should mention to you that passing his door Mr. Theodore Parker came\nto the Community in the evening and again in the morning. He is a very\npopular man at present and has a congregation at Roxbury, but being\nunwell by reason of close study, he will sail to Europe on the 1st\nSeptember. He will remain in Germany for three or four months, and\nafterwards as long in England. No doubt you will see him and render him\nall the service you can.... At present we are not sought by many\npersons, but the value in our enterprise depends not upon numbers so\nmuch as upon the spirit from which we can live outwardly and in all\nrelations true to the intuitions which are gifted to us. We must not\nforget how great have been the works done by individuals, and in the\nabsence of what are usually called facilities. Our obstacles are, I\nsuppose, chiefly within, and as these are subdued we shall triumph in\nexternalities. I could send you a description of works and crops, our\nmowing, hoeing, reaping, ploughing in tall crops of clover and grass for\nnext year\u2019s manure, and various other operations, but although they have\nsome degree of relation to the grand principle to which they are\nobedient, they are worth little in the exoteric sense alone. Perhaps the\nexternal revelations of success ought always to be kept secret, for\nevery improvement discovered is only turned to a money making account\nand to the further degradation of man, as we see in the march of science\nto this very moment. If we knew how to double the crops of the earth, it\nis scarcely to be hoped that any good would come by revealing the mode.\nOn the contrary, the bounties of God are already made the means by which\nman debases himself more and more. We will therefore say little\nconcerning the sources of external wealth until man is himself secured\nto the End which rightly uses these means....\n\nMr. Charles Stearns Wheeler, the eminent Greek student, who went from\nhere to Germany last summer, died at Leipsic[7] in June, age 26. He was\none of Mr. Emerson\u2019s great hopes.\n\nFootnote 7:\n\n This should be Rome.\n\nSamuel Bower continues with us, but he is not so happy in body or mind\nas he ought to be: a letter from you in the universal spirit would cheer\nhim up. He confesses to the possession of a little Nomadic blood in his\nveins. He thinks Mr. Alcott is arbitrary or despotic, as some others do,\nbut I shall endeavour (and, I think, not in vain) to urge him to the\nnoblest conduct of which our position is capable. He must not complain\nnor walk off, but cheerfully amend whatever is amiss. I suppose your\nletter has failed at the post somewhere, but I have inquired fully on\nthis side. With assurances of continued affection to yourself and all\nfriends on the divine ground,\n\n I remain, dear Oldham,\n Truly yours,\n CHARLES LANE.\n\n\n\n\n III\n\n BROOK FARM AND FRUITLANDS\n\n\nThere is so much confusion in the minds of many regarding the difference\nof aim existing in the Community at Brook Farm and that of Fruitlands\nthat it seems well to insert here a well-authenticated account of Brook\nFarm and also an extract from a letter written by John Sullivan Dwight\nwho was a member.\n\nBrook Farm was a Community established in West Roxbury, Massachusetts,\nin 1841. \u201cThe head of the Community was George Ripley, formerly a\nUnitarian clergyman in Boston, who had been in 1836 one of the Founders\nof the Transcendental Club with Emerson, Hedge, Alcott, and others.\nAssociated with Ripley in the Brook Farm enterprise were Nathaniel\nHawthorne, Charles A. Dana, John S. Dwight, and other well-known men.\nThey bought a farm comprising some 200 acres. Its object was the\nestablishment of an \u2018agricultural, literary, and scientific school or\ncollege.\u2019\n\n\u201cSeveral trades beside agriculture were carried on and a number of\nchildren were received as pupils, instruction being furnished in ancient\nand modern languages, history, mathematics, moral philosophy, music,\ndrawing, etc. It was designed to substitute co\u00f6perative for selfish\ncompetition, and to dignify bodily labor by uniting it with the\nintellectual and spiritual life. The Community was at first organized as\na joint-stock company, each subscriber being guaranteed 5 per cent per\nannum on his shares. In 1847 the experiment, having proved a failure\nfinancially, was given up.\n\n\u201cLife at Brook Farm, especially during the first years of enthusiasm,\nhad idyllic and romantic aspects. In its palmiest state the Community,\nincluding school children and boarders, numbered about 150 souls.\nKitchen and table were in common; very little help was hired, but\nphilosophers, clergymen, and poets worked at the humblest tasks, milking\ncows, pitching manure, cleaning stables, etc., while cultivated women\ncooked, washed, ironed, and waited on table. All work, manual or\nintellectual, was credited to members at a uniform rate of ten cents an\nhour.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nJohn Sullivan Dwight wrote of Brook Farm:\u2014\n\n\u201cI remember the night of my first arrival at Brook Farm. It had been\ngoing all summer. I arrived in November. At that time it was a sort of\npastoral life, rather romantic, although so much hard labor was involved\nin it. They were all at tea in the old building, which was called the\nHive. In a long room at a long table they were making tea, and I sat\ndown with them. When tea was over they were all very merry, full of\nlife; and all turned to and washed the dishes, cups and saucers. All\njoined in,\u2014the Curtis brothers, Dana and all. It was very enchanting,\nquite a lark, as we say. Much of the industry went on in that way,\nbecause it combined the freest sociability with the useful arts.\u201d\n\nRobert Carter, a co-editor with James Russell Lowell of a magazine\ncalled _The Pioneer_ in 1843, wrote an article called \u201cThe Newness\u201d in\nafter years, describing Fruitlands and Brook Farm. Of the latter he\nsays:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt was a delightful gathering of men and women of superior cultivation,\nwho led a charming life for a few years, laboring in its fields and\nphilandering in its pleasant woods. It was little too much of a picnic\nfor serious profit, and the young men and maidens were rather unduly\naddicted to moonlight wanderings in the pine grove, though it is\ncreditable to the sound moral training of New England that little or no\nharm came of these wanderings\u2014at least, not to the maidens. Brook Farm,\nhowever, was not the only Community which was founded by the disciples\nof the \u2018Newness.\u2019 There was one established in 1843 on a farm called\nFruitlands, in the town of Harvard, about forty miles from Boston. This\nwas of much more ultra and grotesque character than Brook Farm. Here\nwere gathered the men and women who based their hopes of reforming the\nworld and of making all things new on dress and on diet. They revived\nthe Pythagorean, the Essenian, and the Monkish notions of Asceticism\nwith some variations and improvements peculiarly American. The head of\nthe institution was Bronson Alcott, a very remarkable man, whose\nsingularities of character, conduct, and opinion would alone afford\nsufficient topics for a long lecture. His friend Emerson defined him to\nbe a philosopher devoted to the science of education, and declared that\nhe had singular gifts for awakening contemplation and aspiration in\nsimple and in cultivated persons.... His writings, though quaint and\nthoughtful, are clumsy compared with his conversation, which has been\npronounced by the best judges to have been unrivalled in grace and\nclearness. Mr. Alcott was one of the most foremost leaders of the\n\u2018Newness.\u2019 He swung round the circle of schemes very rapidly, and after\ngoing through a great variety of phases he maintained, at the time of\nthe foundation of \u2018Fruitlands,\u2019 that the evils of life were not so much\nsocial or political as personal, and that a personal reform only could\neradicate them; that self-denial was the road to eternal life, and that\nproperty was an evil, and animal food of all kinds an abomination. No\nanimal substance, neither flesh, fish, butter, cheese, eggs, nor milk,\nwas allowed to be used at \u2018Fruitlands.\u2019 They were all denounced as\npollution, and as tending to corrupt the body, and through that the\nsoul. Tea and coffee, molasses and rice, were also proscribed,\u2014the last\ntwo as foreign luxuries,\u2014and only water was used as a beverage.\n\n\u201cMr. Alcott would not allow the land to be manured, which he regarded as\na base and corrupting and unjust mode of forcing nature. He made also a\ndistinction between vegetables which aspired or grew into the air, as\nwheat, apples, and other fruits, and the base products which grew\ndownwards into the earth, such as potatoes,[8] beets, radishes, and the\nlike. These latter he would not allow to be used. The bread of the\nCommunity he himself made of unbolted flour, and sought to render it\npalatable by forming the loaves into the shapes of animals and other\npleasant images. He was very strict, rather despotic in his rule of the\nCommunity, and some of the members have told me they were nearly starved\nto death there; nay, absolutely would have perished with hunger if they\nhad not furtively gone among the surrounding farmers and begged for\nfood.\n\nFootnote 8:\n\n This was a mistake on Mr. Carter\u2019s part, as they ate potatoes freely.\n\n\u201cOne of the Fruitlanders took it into his head that clothes were an\nimpediment to spiritual growth, and that the light of day was equally\npernicious. He accordingly secluded himself in his room in a state of\nnature during the day, and only went out at night for exercise, with a\nsingle white cotton garment reaching from his neck to his knees.\n\n\u201cSamuel Larned lived one whole year on crackers, and the next year\nexclusively on apples. He went to Brook Farm after the collapse of the\nFruitlands Community, and when that also failed he went South, married a\nlady who owned a number of slaves, and settled there as a Unitarian\nminister.\u201d\n\nIn this same article Mr. Carter asserts that Fourierism brought Brook\nFarm into disrepute at the end, and that a large wooden phalanstery, in\nwhich members had invested all their means, took fire and burned to the\nground just as it was completed. Upon this catastrophe the association\nscattered in 1847. Nathaniel Hawthorne lost all his savings in the\nenterprise. While he was at Brook Farm he looked after the pigsties.\n\nIn contrast to this is the full account of the object and aim of\nFruitlands.\n\nThe following letter on The Consociate Family Life was written to A.\nBrooke of Oakland, Ohio, and published in the _Herald of Freedom_,\nSeptember 8, 1843:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\nDEAR SIR: Having perused your several letters in the _Herald of\nFreedom_, and finding, moreover, a general invitation to correspondence\nfrom \u201cpersons who feel prepared to co\u00f6perate in the work of reform upon\nprinciples\u201d akin to those you have set forth, I take this public means\nof communicating with one, who seems to be really desirous of aiding\nentire human regeneration.\n\nAfter many years passed in admiration of a better order in human\nsociety, with a constant expectation that some beginning would shortly\nbe made, and a continued reliance that some party would make it, the\nidea has gradually gained possession of my mind, that it is not right\nthus to linger for the leadings of other men, but that each should at\nonce proceed to live out the proposed life to the utmost possible\nextent. Assured that the most potent hindrances to goodness abide in the\nSoul itself; next in the body; thirdly in the house and family; and in\nthe fourth degree only in our neighbors, or in society at large; I have\ndaily found less and less reason to complain of public institutions, or\nof the dilatoriness of reformers of genetic minds.\n\nAnimated by pure reform principles, or rather by pure creative spirit, I\nhave not hesitated to withdraw as far and as fast as hopeful prudence\ndictated from the practices and principles of the Old World, and acting\nupon the conviction that whatever others might do, or leave undone,\nhowever others might fail in the realization of their ideal good, I, at\nleast, should advance, I have accordingly arrived in that region where I\nperceive you theoretically, and I hope, actually dwell. I agree with you\nthat it would be well to cross the ocean of Life from the narrow island\nof selfishness to the broad continent of universal Love at one dash; but\nthe winds are not always propitious, and steam is only a recent\ninvention. I cannot yet boast of a year\u2019s emancipation from old England.\nOne free step leads to another; and the third must necessarily precede\nthe fourth, as the second was before the third.\n\nA. Bronson Alcott\u2019s visit to England last year opened to me some of the\nsuperior conditions for a pure life which this country offers compared\nto the land of my nativity and that of your ancestors. My love for\npurity and goodness was sufficiently strong it seems to loosen me from a\nposition as regards pecuniary income, affectionate friends, and mental\nliberty, which millions there and thousands here might envy. It has\nhappened however that of the many persons with whom Mr. Alcott hoped to\nact in conjunction and concert, not one is yet fully liberated by\nProvidence to that end. So that instead of forming items in a large\nenterprise, we are left to be the principal actors in promoting an idea\nless in extent, but greater in intent, than any yet presented to our\nobservation.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n CHARLES LANE\n]\n\nOur removal to this estate in humble confidence has drawn to us several\npractical coadjutors, and opened many inquiries by letter for a\nstatement of our principles and modes of life. We cannot perhaps turn\nour replies to better account, than to transcribe some portions of them\nfor your information, and we trust, for your sincere satisfaction.\n\nYou must be aware, however, that written words cannot do much towards\nthe elucidation of principles comprehending all human relationships, and\nclaiming an origin profound as man\u2019s inmost consciousness of the ever\npresent Living Spirit. A dwelling together, a concert in soul, and a\nconsorting in body, is a position needful to entire understanding, which\nwe hope at no distant day to attain with yourself and many other sincere\nfriends. We have not yet drawn out any preordained plan of daily\noperations, as we are impressed with the conviction that by a faithful\nreliance on the Spirit which actuates us, we are sure of attaining to\nclear revelations of daily practical duties as they are to be daily done\nby us. When the Spirit of Love and Wisdom abounds, literal forms are\nneedless, irksome or hinderative; where the Spirit is lacking, no\npreconceived rules can compensate.\n\nTo us it appears not so much that improved circumstances are to\nmeliorate mankind, as that improved men will originate the superior\ncondition for themselves and others. Upon the Human Will, and not upon\ncircumstances, as some philosophers assert, rests the function, power\nand duty, of generating a better social state. The human beings in whom\nthe Eternal Spirit has ascended from low animal delights or mere human\naffections, to a state of spiritual chastity and intuition, are in\nthemselves a divine atmosphere, they are superior circumstances and are\nconstant in endeavoring to create, as well as to modify, all other\nconditions, so that these also shall more and more conduce to the like\nconsciousness in others.\n\nHence our perseverance in efforts to attain simplicity in diet, plain\ngarments, pure bathing, unsullied dwellings, open conduct, gentle\nbehavior, kindly sympathies, serene minds. These, and several other\nparticulars needful to the true end of man\u2019s residence on earth, may be\ndesignated the Family Life. Our Happiness, though not the direct object\nin human energy, may be accepted as the conformation of rectitude, and\nthis is not otherwise attainable than in the Holy Family. The Family in\nits highest, divinest sense is therefore our true position, our sacred\nearthly destiny. It comprehends every divine, every human relation\nconsistent with universal good, and all others it rejects, as it\ndisdains all animal sensualities.\n\nThe evils of life are not so much social, or political, as personal, and\na personal reform only can eradicate them.\n\nLet the Family, furthermore, be viewed as the home of pure social\naffections, the school of expanding intelligence, the sphere of unbought\nart, the scene of joyous employment, and we feel in that single\nsentiment, a fulness of action, of life, of being, which no scientific\nsocial contrivance can ensure, nor selfish accident supply.\n\nFamily is not dependent upon numbers, nor upon skill, nor riches, but\nupon union in and with that spirit which alone can bless any enterprise\nwhatever.\n\nOn this topic of Family association, it will not involve an entire\nagreement with the Shakers to say they are at least entitled to deeper\nconsideration than they yet appear to have secured. There are many\nimportant acts in their career worthy of observation. It is perhaps most\nstriking that the only really successful extensive Community of\ninterest, spiritual and secular, in modern times was established by A\nWoman. Again, we witness in this people the bringing together of the two\nsexes in a new relation, or rather with a new idea of the old relation.\nThis has led to results more harmonic than anyone seriously believes\nattainable for the human race, either in isolation or association, so\nlong as divided, conflicting family arrangements are permitted. The\ngreat secular success of the Shakers; their order, cleanliness,\nintelligence and serenity are so eminent, that it is worthy of enquiry\nhow far these are attributable to an adherence to their peculiar\ndoctrine.\n\nAs to Property, we discover not its just disposal either in individual\nor social tenures, but in its entire absorption into the New Spirit,\nwhich ever gives and never grasps.\n\nWhile we write, negotiations are entertained for our removal to a place\nof less inconvenience, by friends who have long waited for some proof of\na determination to act up to the idea they have cherished. Many, no\ndoubt, are yet unprepared \u201cto give up all and follow him\u201d (the Spirit)\nwho can importantly aid in the New Advent, and conscientiously\naccomplish the legal processes needful under the present circumstances.\nWe do not recognize the purchase of land; but its redemption from the\ndebasing state of _proprium_, or property, to divine uses, we clearly\nunderstand when those whom the world esteems as owners are found\nyielding their individual rights to the Supreme Owner. Looking at the\nsubject practically in relation to a climate in which a costly shelter\nis necessary, and where a family with many children has to be provided\nfor, the possibility of at once stepping boldly out of the toils into\nwhich the errors of our predecessors have cast us, is not so evident as\nit is desirable.\n\nTrade we hope entirely to avoid at an early day. As a nursery for many\nevil propensities it is almost universally felt to be a most undesirable\ncourse. Such needful articles as we cannot yet raise by our own hand\nlabor from the soil, thus redeemed from human ownership, we shall\nendeavor to obtain by friendly exchanges, and, as nearly as possible,\nwithout the intervention of money.\n\nOf all the traffic in which civilized society is involved, that of human\nlabor is perhaps the most detrimental. From the state of serfdom to the\nreceipt of wages may be a step in human progress; but it is certainly\nfull time for taking a new step out of the hiring system.\n\nOur outward exertions are in the first instance directed to the soil,\nand as our ultimate aim is to furnish an instance of self-sustaining\ncultivation without the subjugation of either men or cattle, or the use\nof foul animal manures, we have at the outset to encounter struggles and\noppositions somewhat formidable. Until the land is restored to its\npristine fertility by the annual return of its own green crops, as sweet\nand animating manures, the human hand and simple implement cannot wholly\nsupersede the employment of machinery and cattle. So long as cattle are\nused in agriculture, it is very evident that man will remain a slave,\nwhether he be proprietor or hireling. The driving of cattle beyond their\nnatural and pleasurable exertion; the waiting upon them as cook and\nchambermaid three parts of the year; the excessive labor of mowing,\ncuring, and housing hay, and of collecting other fodder, and the large\nextra quantity of land needful to keep up this system, form a\ncontinuation of unfavorable circumstances which must depress the human\naffections so long as it continues, and overlay them by the injurious\nand extravagant development of the animal and bestial natures in man. It\nis calculated that if no animal food were consumed, one-fourth of the\nland now used would suffice for human sustenance. And the extensive\ntracts of country now appropriated to grazing, mowing, and other modes\nof animal provision, could be cultivated by and for intelligent and\naffectionate human neighbors. The sty and the stable too often secure\nmore of the farmer\u2019s regard than he bestows on the garden and the\nchildren. No hope is there for humanity while Woman is withdrawn from\nthe tender assiduities which adorn her and her household, to the\nservitudes of the dairy and the flesh pots. If the beasts were wholly\nabsent from man\u2019s neighborhood, the human population might be at least\nfour times as dense as it now is without raising the price of land. This\nwould give to the country all the advantages of concentration without\nthe vices which always spring up in the dense city.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE SMALL DINING-ROOM\n\n Around this table the philosophers discussed their deepest problems.\n]\n\nDebauchery of both the earthly soil and the human body is the result of\nthis cattle keeping. The land is scourged for crops to feed the animals,\nwhose ordures are used under the erroneous supposition of restoring lost\nfertility; disease is thus infused into the human body; stimulants and\nmedicines are resorted to for relief, which end in a precipitation of\nthe original evil to a more disastrous depth. These misfortunes which\naffect not only the body, but by reaction rise to the sphere of the\nsoul, would be avoided, or at least in part, by the disuse of animal\nfood. Our diet is therefore strictly the pure and bloodless kind. No\nanimal substances, neither flesh, butter, cheese, eggs, nor milk,\npollute our table or corrupt our bodies, neither tea, coffee, molasses,\nnor rice, tempts us beyond the bounds of indigenous productions. Our\nsole beverage is pure fountain water. The native grains, fruits, herbs,\nand roots, dressed with the utmost cleanliness and regard to their\npurpose of edifying a healthful body, furnish the pleasantest refections\nand in the greatest variety requisite to the supply of the various\norgans. The field, the orchard, the garden, in their bounteous products\nof wheat, rye, barley, maize, oats, buckwheat, apples, pears, peaches,\nplums, cherries, currants, berries, potatoes, peas, beans, beets,\ncarrots, melons, and other vines, yield an ample store for human\nnutrition, without dependence on foreign climes, or the degeneration of\nshipping and trade. The almost inexhaustible variety of the several\nstages and sorts of vegetable growth, and the several modes of\npreparation, are a full answer to the question which is often put by\nthose who have never ventured into the region of a pure and chaste diet:\n\u201cIf you give up flesh meat, upon what then can you live?\u201d\n\nOur other domestic habits are in harmony with those of diet. We rise\nwith early dawn, begin the day with cold bathing, succeeded by a music\nlesson, and then a chaste repast. Each one finds occupation until the\nmeridian meal, when usually some interesting and deep-searching\nconversation gives rest to the body and development to the mind.\nOccupation, according to the season and the weather, engages us out of\ndoors or within, until the evening meal,\u2014when we again assemble in\nsocial communion, prolonged generally until sunset, when we resort to\nsweet repose for the next day\u2019s activity.\n\nIn these steps of reform we do not rely as much on scientific reasoning\nof physiological skill, as on the Spirit\u2019s dictates. The pure soul, by\nthe law of its own nature, adopts a pure diet and cleanly customs; nor\nneeds detailed instruction for daily conduct. On a revision of our\nproceedings it would seem, that if we were in the right course in our\nparticular instance, the greater part of man\u2019s duty consists in leaving\nalone much that he is in the habit of doing. It is a fasting from the\npresent activity, rather than an increased indulgence in it, which, with\npatient watchfulness tends to newness of life. \u201cShall I sip tea or\ncoffee?\u201d the inquiry may be. No; abstain from all ardent, as from\nalcoholic drinks. \u201cShall I consume pork, beef, or mutton?\u201d Not if you\nvalue health or life. \u201cShall I stimulate with milk?\u201d No. \u201cShall I warm\nmy bathing water?\u201d Not if cheerfulness is valuable. \u201cShall I clothe in\nmany garments?\u201d Not if purity is aimed at. \u201cShall I prolong my dark\nhours, consuming animal oil and losing bright daylight in the morning?\u201d\nNot if a clear mind is an object. \u201cShall I teach my children the dogmas\ninflicted on myself, under the pretence that I am transmitting truth?\u201d\nNay, if you love them intrude not these between them and the Spirit of\nall Truth. \u201cShall I subjugate cattle?\u201d \u201cShall I trade?\u201d \u201cShall I claim\nproperty in any created thing?\u201d \u201cShall I interest myself in politics?\u201d\nTo how many of these questions could we ask them deeply enough, could\nthey be heard as having relation to our eternal welfare, would the\nresponse be \u201cAbstain\u201d? Be not so active to do, as sincere to be. Being\nin preference to doing, is the great aim and this comes to us rather by\na resigned willingness than a wilful activity;\u2014which is indeed a check\nto all divine growth. Outward abstinence is a sign of inward fulness;\nand the only source of true progress is inward. We may occupy ourselves\nactively in human improvements;\u2014but these unless inwardly well-impelled,\nnever attain to, but rather hinder, divine progress in man. During the\nutterance of this narrative it has undergone a change in its personal\nexpression which might offend the hypercritical; but we feel assured\nthat you will kindly accept it as unartful offering of both your friends\nin ceaseless aspiration.\n\n CHARLES LANE,\n A. BRONSON ALCOTT.\n\nHARVARD, MASS.,\n August, 1843.\n\n\n\n\n IV\n\n THE MAN WITH THE BEARD\n\n\nNo satisfactory record of Fruitlands could be written without giving an\naccount of Joseph Palmer, the man with the beard. He filled an important\nplace in the life of the Community, and is one of those picturesque\ncharacters which must always stand out vividly in the history of\nFruitlands. He came of fine, sturdy English stock which emigrated to\nthis country in 1730. His grandfather taught school in Newton,\nMassachusetts, for twenty years. His father fought in the Revolution,\nand he himself was a soldier in the War of 1812. He was an eccentric\ncharacter, but steadfast and upright, and immovable when it came to his\nprinciples. Wearing a beard became a fixed idea with him, and neither\nthe law of the land nor the admonitions of the church could make him\nfalter in his determination to claim freedom of action in this respect.\nHe suffered ridicule, insolence, and persecution to a degree that was\namazing, and which revealed the fact that in spite of a seemingly\ngreater enlightenment on the part of the public, the same tendency,\nwhich drove the people to persecute so-called witches, and Shakers, and\nharmless persons with a little different viewpoint from their own, was\nstill alive, and ready to flame forth as fiercely as ever.\n\nOn one occasion, before the Fruitlands days, he went into a church in\nFitchburg where the holy Communion was being celebrated. He knelt with\nthe rest only to be given the shock of humiliation at being ignored and\npassed over by the officiating clergyman. Cut to the quick at such\ninjustice, and with the blood surging to his face, he arose and strode\nup to the Communion table where the Sacraments were, and lifting the cup\nto his lips drank from it, and turning to the shocked and abashed\nclergyman and his congregation shouted in a loud voice and with flashing\neyes: \u201cI love my Jesus as well, and better, than any of you do!\u201d\n\nA beard at that time was only worn by the Jews, and that was the real\nreason for this persecution, and it caused him to be called \u201cOld Jew\nPalmer,\u201d though there was not a drop of Jewish blood in his veins. He\ncarried on his farm at No Town very successfully and sold his beef at\nthe Fitchburg Market. No Town was a \u201cgore\u201d of unreclaimed land outside\nof Fitchburg and Leominster in old Colonial days, a large tract of which\nhad been granted to Captain Noah Wiswell, his maternal grandfather, by\nthe General Court of the Province of Massachusetts for bravery in the\nwars against the Indians. Joseph Palmer inherited it. It belonged to no\ntownship, and therefore was not taxed. So when he married the widow\nTenney rumors circulated through Fitchburg that the marriage was not\nlegal because he did not publish the banns at the meeting-house\naccording to law, there being no meeting-house at No Town. But\ninvestigation proved the marriage legal because he had published the\nbanns in his own handwriting on a large piece of paper which he had\ntacked to the trunk of a fine old pine tree which grew near his house.\n\nJoseph Palmer\u2019s wife before her first marriage was Nancy Thompson. She\nwas a third cousin to Count Rumford, who was Benjamin Thompson, of\nWoburn, in Colonial days, but who returned to England after the\nevacuation of the British, and on account of services rendered to the\nGovernment was knighted by George III, and afterward given the title of\nCount Rumford by the reigning king of Bavaria, and was well known\nthroughout Europe as a scientist, philosopher, and savant.\n\n * * * * *\n\nA reporter of the _Boston Daily Globe_ in 1884 interviewed Joseph\nPalmer\u2019s son, Dr. Palmer, of Fitchburg, and herein are inserted extracts\nfrom the interview:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe older inhabitants of Harvard, Sterling, Leominster, Fitchburg, and\nother neighboring towns can remember \u2018Old Jew Palmer,\u2019 who fifty years\nago was persecuted, despised, jeered at, regarded almost as a fiend\nincarnate; who was known far and wide as a human monster, and with whose\nname mothers used to frighten their children when they were unruly.\n\n\u201c\u2018Old Jew Palmer,\u2019 as he was universally called, was the most abused and\npersecuted man these parts ever knew, and all because he insisted upon\nwearing a beard. But many who in those days looked upon the subject of\nthis sketch as a social outcast have lived to see whiskers common and\nfashionable.\n\n\u201cWith a view of getting at the facts of the persecution of Mr. Palmer\nbut fifty years ago, his only son, Dr. Thomas Palmer, a well-known\ndentist of Fitchburg, was interviewed, and the doctor talked earnestly\nand vigorously about his father\u2019s career, for he had seen the time when\nhis schoolmates shunned him and made his boyhood days miserable, railing\nat him because his father wore a beard. But now the doctor looks back\nupon those days proudly, as he realizes that his sire was right and that\nthe world has indorsed the ways and ideas of the old man, instead of the\nold man bowing to the absurd whim of the world.\u201d\n\n[Illustration:\n\n JOSEPH PALMER\n]\n\n[Illustration:\n\n NANCY PALMER\n]\n\nSaid Dr. Palmer:\u2014\n\n\u201cFather left No Town early in the thirties and moved to Fitchburg into a\nhouse where the City Hall now stands. He wore at that time a long beard,\nand he and Silas Lamson, an old scythe-snath maker of Sterling, were the\nonly men known in this section of the country as wearing beards.\nEverybody shaved clean in those days, and to wear whiskers in any form\nwas worse than a disgrace, it was a sin. Father was hooted at on the\nstreet, talked about at the grocery, intimidated by his fellow-men and\nlabored with by the clergy to shave, but to no purpose. The stronger the\nopposition, the firmer his determination. He was accosted once by Rev.\nGeorge Trask, the anti-tobacconist, who said indignantly: \u2018Palmer, why\ndon\u2019t you shave and not go round looking like the devil?\u2019 He replied:\n\u2018Mr. Trask, are you not mistaken in your comparison of personages? I\nhave never seen a picture of the ruler of the sulphurous regions with\nmuch of a beard, but if I remember correctly, Jesus wore a beard not\nunlike mine.\u2019 That squelched Trask and he left.\n\n\u201cWell, public sentiment against the man and beard grew stronger, and\npersonal violence was threatened. One day, as father was coming out of\nthe old Fitchburg Hotel, where he had been to carry some provision, he\nthen being in the butchering business, he was seized by four men, whose\nnames I have not in mind now, who were armed with shears, lather, and\nrazor, their intention being to shave him, as the sentiment of the\npopulace was that that beard must come off at the hands of the wearer,\npossibly at the hands of some one, anyway. Why, there are men living\nto-day, old associates of his, who still cling to that old idea and will\nnot wear a beard. These four men laid violent hands upon him and threw\nhim heavily on the stone steps, badly hurting his back. The assaulted\nparty was very muscular, and struggled to free himself, but to no\npurpose, until he drew from his vest pocket an old, loose-jointed\njack-knife, with which he struck out left and right and stabbed two of\nthem in the legs, when the assailants precipitately departed without\ncutting a hair. He was afterwards arrested for committing an unprovoked\nassault, and ordered by Justice Brigham to pay a fine, which he refused\nto do, as he claimed to be acting for the maintenance of a principle. He\nwas thrown into jail, where he remained over a year. He was lodged with\nthe debtors. One day Jailer Bellows came in with several men to shave\nhim. He threw himself on his back in his bunk, and when they approached,\nhe struck out with his feet, and after he had kicked over a few of them\nthey let him and his beard alone. He wrote letters to the Worcester\n_Spy_, complaining of the treatment the prisoners received, which I used\nto carry to the office for him, receiving them when I carried him his\nmeals, for we hired a tenement next to the jail. For this the jailer put\nhim in a sort of dungeon down below, and one day when I went to the\njail, he heard my step and called out: \u2018Thomas, tie a stone to a string\nand swing it by the window so that I can catch it\u2019; which I did, and\npulled up a letter for High Sheriff Williams, in which he complained of\nhis treatment. The sheriff ordered him back to his old quarters. Why,\nold Dr. Williams of Leominster told father once that he ought to be\nprosecuted and imprisoned for wearing a beard. In after years, when\nwhiskers became fashionable, father met a minister who had upbraided him\nyears before for wearing them, and as this same minister had rather a\nluxuriant growth, he went up to the man of God and stroking his\nwhiskers, said to him, \u2018Knoweth that thy redeemer liveth?\u2019 He claimed to\nbe the redeemer of the beard.\n\n\u201cFather was a reformer; was early in the field as an anti-slavery man\nand as a total abstinence advocate. He was well acquainted with\nPhillips, Garrison, and other prominent Abolitionists. I remember going\nwith him once to an anti-slavery convention in Boston. As we walked up\nWashington Street, the people would stop, then run ahead, wait for us to\ncome up, and finally the crowd around us was so great that the police\nhad to come to the rescue. Why was it? Oh, it was the same old beard. It\nwas so unusual to see a man wearing one, and especially such a one as he\nsported. Why, he was looked upon as a monstrosity. When asked once why\nhe wore it, he said he would tell if any one could tell him why some men\nwould, from fifty-two to three hundred and sixty-five times a year,\nscrape their face from their nose to their neck. He never would furnish\nliquor for men in the hay-field, and for this reason had hard work to\ngather crops; but they would have rotted before he would have backed\ndown and sacrificed his principle. He was the first man in this section\nto give up that old custom. He was interested in all reformatory ideas,\nand was associated with A. Bronson Alcott in forming that Community in\nHarvard at Fruitlands which had for its object a more quiet and\nunostentatious way of living than the world offered. He went to Harvard\nin 1843. The Community did not flourish, and father bought the farm.\nRalph Waldo Emerson, as trustee, at that time held the deed of\n\u2018Fruitlands.\u2019 I remember that when father refused to furnish liquor for\nthe hay-makers he had to hire boys. One mother refused to let her lad\nwork for him, saying that \u2018He was too mean to allow the boys a little\nliquor\u2019!\n\n\u201cSuch was the interesting account given by the venerable doctor of a\ncondition of affairs existing in this community but a comparatively few\nyears ago; but the average person of to-day would not believe, without a\nfull explanation of the sentiment prevailing at that time, that within\nso recent a period a man would not only be insulted and persecuted, but\nactually mobbed, as was the victim of this foolish and intolerant\ncommunity.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nWhile in prison Palmer kept a diary, in which, under date of July 21,\n1830, occurs this account of the sort of persecution he had from the two\nfellow-prisoners who occupied the same cell with him. One of them\nasserted that if the other prisoner would attack him and cut his beard\noff, he would look on all the time and then swear that it had never\nhappened, and that anyway he could get enough money collected anywhere\non the street to pay the damages for the act. The jailer coming to the\ndoor at this moment overheard the remark and with a resounding oath\nagreed with him, and added, \u201cAnd pretty quick, too!\u201d Then he began to\ncurse and swear at Palmer, and vowed that they would get his beard off\nsoon, and even suggested that the other prisoners should cut it off of\nhim in his sleep. One of these prisoners was named Dike. The jailer\ncontinued to pour volley after volley of oaths at the unfortunate man,\nand finally spat on him repeatedly. This happened when Palmer\u2019s cell was\nbeing whitewashed and the three inmates were temporarily removed to\nanother cell. When they were taken back to their customary quarters,\nDike found that the jailer had taken his razor away, which turned his\nwrath in a new direction, and Palmer writes that as a result \u201cBefore\nbedtime, he was as good as a man ought to be to another, and talked very\nfreely with me on the Power and Goodness of God and on the Holy\nScriptures.\u201d\n\nHere is an entry on Wednesday, September 22, 1830:\u2014\n\n\u201cI called out to some one in the hall. Wildes, the jailer, opened the\ndoor in the entry next to my door and said: \u2018What do you want?\u2019 I was\njust going to ask him for a little water to use until I could get some\ntea from Wilson, and he let a pail full come in at the door, with great\nforce. It didn\u2019t wet me much, as I see it was coming, and having seen\nthem throw cider and water in the prisoners\u2019 faces before. It caused me\nto start so quickly that there did but little go into my face, and on my\nclothes, but it went more than half the length of the room. I split\nthree crackers and put them to soak where there was considerable water\nstanding on the floor, as I could see no chance of getting any more\nsoon. I got a quart jug filled with water out of the other room to wet\nsome bread which was all the water or drink of any kind that I had since\nlast Thursday morning when I used the last of my tea, and I had tried\never since last Sunday morning to get some and could not. I thought I\nmust suffer very much soon if there wasn\u2019t some attention, and being\nsatisfied that there were some in Prison who were suffering greatly, I\nthought it time to give a signal of distress to the Public, which I\nimmediately did by the cry of murder in the Gaol, which I continued at\nthe window that somebody might come up while the door was open that\nwould grant some assistance for the pay. About seven o\u2019clock just as I\nwas going to take my crackers off the floor, Bellows and Wildes came\ninto the room and several others. I stepped to the table and took the\nlines I had written to send to Mr. Wilson, and asked them if I could get\nany one of them to go for me if I would pay them for it. Bellows said,\n\u2018Yes, I\u2019ll take care of you!\u2019 Bellows and Wildes then seized me by the\ncollar, shook and jarred me with great fury through the entries, and\ndragged me down the stairs. I tried to speak to the people who stood by\nto take the paper I had in my hand to carry to Mr. Wilson. Bellows then\ntook me by the hair and shook me furiously as I suppose to prevent my\nspeaking to them. I then cried Murder. He then let me go, and I told\nthem that I wanted to get some person to take the paper I had in my hand\nand go about 100 rods of an errand, and I would pay them well for it,\nfor I hadn\u2019t had anything to drink since last week, nor I couldn\u2019t get\nany. They put me into the South Middle room below and gave me a pail of\nwater. I told Wildes and C. B. that I wanted they should let me have my\nthings, for I hadn\u2019t eaten anything since yesterday morning. They took\nthe other three prisoners out of the room and shut the blinds.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nPalmer was kept in solitary confinement from September 22 to December\n25.\n\n * * * * *\n\n December 30, 1830.\n\n\u201cIn the afternoon Calvin Willard, Ashel Bellows, Wildes, and Lawyer\nGoodwin, with four or five other gentlemen, came in. Willard said, \u2018How\ndo you do, Palmer?\u2019 I said, pretty tolerable well for me except I have\ngot a bad cold. One of the men, which I took to be Esqre. Weed said to\nme: \u2018Why don\u2019t you go out? What do you stay here for? Why don\u2019t you pay\nup the demand and go out?\u2019 I said I have no way to pay it. Goodwin said:\n\u2018A man from Fitchburg told me to-day that he has from ten to fifteen\nhundred dollars property.\u2019 Willard said: \u2018I always took him to be a man\nof property.\u2019 One of the men said: \u2018I think there ought to be some\nmeasures taken to secure the board if he stops here.\u2019 I said: I board\nmyself and have hard work to get it in here for the money. One said:\n\u2018How much was your fine?\u2019 I said, Ten dollars, I believe it was.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n Saturday, January 1, 1831.\n\n\u201cSince the first of December I haven\u2019t bought me anything from Bellows,\nand they haven\u2019t brought me anything but eight Bushels and one hod of\ncoal, and they used two Bushels of that when they whitewashed the room,\nexcept what I took to make one fire. Thomas brought me my water. I was\nout of my room three and a half days to have it whitewashed, and I have\nnow a half Bushel of coal which brings it to seven and a half Bushels I\nhave burnt the past month while I was in the room.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n April 11, 1831.\n\n\u201cFood for the day:\u2014\n\n \u201cBreakfast: 5 ounces of brown bread\n \u201cDinner: 5\u00bc ounces of brown bread\n 3\u00bd ounces of beef meat\n 3\u00bd ounces of potato\n 3\u00be ounces of soup.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe far out-stayed his sentence because he had to pay for all his food,\ndrink, and coal for heating, and he considered they cheated him, so he\nrefused to go. The sheriff and jailers, tired of having him there,\nbegged him to leave. Even his mother, Margaret Palmer, wrote to him \u2018Not\nto be so set.\u2019 But nothing could move him. He said they had put him in\nthere, and they would have to take him out, as he would not walk out.\nThey finally carried him out in his chair and placed it on the\nsidewalk.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nShortly after leaving the jail at Worcester Palmer heard of the proposed\nCommunity of Fruitlands, and being much interested in all reforms, he\noffered to run the farm without pay and went there at the very start. He\ntook some fine old furniture with him from No Town to help furnish the\nhouse, and whenever anything was needed in the way of farm implements,\netc., he would drive over to No Town and bring it back with him. When\nthe Community of Fruitlands failed, he bought the place and carried on a\nstrange sort of Community of his own for upwards of twenty years.\nEmerson visited him afterwards, and a motley collection of reformers,\nwayfarers, and a host of tramps found a welcome by his fireside.\n\nAny one driving by the old North Leominster graveyard will see a stone\nmonument adorned with the head of a man with a flowing beard. On it is\nwritten:\u2014\n\n JOSEPH PALMER\n\n died\n\n October 30, 1875\n\n Aged 84 years, 5 months\n\nUnderneath the carved head is written:\u2014\n\n Persecuted for\n\n Wearing the Beard\n\n\n\n\n V\n\n SUMMER SUNSHINE\n\n\nIt was now July and all the days were full of healthful occupations\u2014the\nweather was perfect. The philosophers had planted three mulberry trees\nnext the front door, and they had set out apple trees and pear trees\nbelow the house on the slope of the hill. They put the mulberry trees so\nnear the house that when they grew, the roots almost unsettled the\nfoundations, and the fruit trees were planted in just the wrong place to\npermit of luxuriant growth; but they never knew it, and at the time they\npictured to themselves the full-grown trees with branches overladen with\nthe luscious ripening fruit. And now they all had gotten their linen\nsuits designed by Mr. Lane:\u2014loose trousers, tunic-ed coats and\nbroad-brimmed linen hats like Southern planters. The Alcott girls, Anna,\nBeth, Louisa, and three-year-old baby May were in linen bloomers, and so\nwere Mrs. Alcott (protesting!) and poor Miss Page, who was summarily\ndismissed from Fruitlands for having eaten fish.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE REFECTORY, ALSO USED AS A KITCHEN\n]\n\nMany visitors came and went. Parker Pillsbury often came, his mind full\nof the anti-slavery question. The Concord circle of friends looked in\nupon them off and on, and Channing spoke afterwards of conversations\nheld in a small dining-room next to the front door, and, as Mr. Sanborn\nsays in his account of it, \u201cThe library of rare books from London stood\nproudly on its hundred feet of new shelves in the small front entry of\nthe old house, proclaiming the atmosphere of \u2018Mind and Letters.\u2019\u201d\n\nEmerson came and afterwards wrote in his \u201cJournal\u201d on July 8, 1843:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe sun and the evening sky do not look calmer than Alcott and his\nfamily at Fruitlands. They seemed to have arrived at the fact\u2014to have\ngot rid of the show, and so to be serene. Their manners and behavior in\nthe house and the field were those of superior men\u2014of men at rest. What\nhad they to conceal? What had they to exhibit? And it seemed so high an\nattainment that I thought\u2014as often before, so now more, because they had\na fit home, or the picture was fitly framed\u2014that these men ought to be\nmaintained in their place by the country for its culture.\n\n\u201cYoung men and young maidens, old men and women, should visit them and\nbe inspired. I think there is as much merit in beautiful manners as in\nhard work. I will not prejudge them successful. They look well in July;\nwe will see them in December. I know they are better for themselves than\nas partners. One can easily see that they have yet to settle several\nthings. Their saying that things are clear, and they sane, does not make\nthem so. If they will in very deed be lovers, and not selfish; if they\nwill serve the town of Harvard, and make their neighbors feel them as\nbenefactors wherever they touch them,\u2014they are as safe as the sun.\u201d\n\nMr. Sanborn, referring to the remark, \u201cWe will see them in December,\u201d\nsays: \u201cThis passage indicates that Emerson with his fatal gift of\nperception had long since seen the incongruity between Alcott and Lane.\nAt this time all was still fair weather at the Fruitlands Eden, although\nthe burden of too much labor, of which Lane had written to Thoreau in\nJune, had been falling more and more heavily on Mrs. Alcott and her\ndaughters, Anna, then twelve, and Louisa, not quite eleven. As they did\nso much of the domestic drudgery, Mrs. Alcott doubtless thought it no\nmore than right that her English guests, both there and at Concord,\nduring the seven months that Lane and his son were in their household,\nshould pay their share of the family expenses.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe house at times was very overcrowded and the children had their beds\nup in the garret. But Anna begged hard for a tiny room adjoining Mrs.\nAlcott\u2019s, and great was the joy she took in it. Of course it all was\nvery primitive. The men bathed in the brook in the early morning and the\nshower-baths that Anna speaks of in her diary were accomplished\nthus:\u2014rough clothes-horses covered with sheets were put in a circle and\nthe bathers stood hidden within, while Mr. Alcott, mounted on some\nwooden steps, poured water from a pitcher through a sieve on their head.\n(This was told the author by an old lady who when very young went to\nvisit the children.)\n\nHired laborers and beasts of burden were against the principles of the\nCommunity, but in order to make headway against the advancing season\nthey seemed to be a necessity. This concession, however, troubled the\nphilosophers, and it was decided to carry out the original plan and rely\nwholly on the spade instead of the plough, even at a cost of valuable\ntime. The results were rather disastrous: Charles Lane\u2019s hands became\nsore and painful, and lame backs seriously interfered with progress.\nSobered by this new experience, the philosophers met in conclave, and as\na result Joseph Palmer, who always came to the rescue in trying\nsituations, went to No Town and brought back his plough and yoke of\noxen, as he called it\u2014it really was an ox and a cow which he had trained\nto work together. Besides the outdoor work much writing was done\nindoors. Charles Lane and Bower wrote prolifically to different papers.\nThe _Herald of Freedom_, the _Vermont Telegraph_ and the _New York\nTribune_ of that summer are full of their writings.\n\n * * * * *\n\nMr. Alcott\u2019s Diary furnishes clear evidence of his purposes and hopes:\u2014\n\n\u201cI would abstain from the fruits of oppression and blood, and am seeking\nmeans of entire independence. This, were I not holden by penury\nunjustly, would be possible. One miracle we have wrought nevertheless,\nand shall soon work all of them: Our wine is water, flesh, bread\u2014drugs,\nfruits; and we defy meekly the satyrs all, and \u00c6sculapians. The Soul\u2019s\nbanquet is an art divine.... This Beast named Man has yet most costly\ntastes, and must first be transformed into a very Man, regenerate in\nappetite and desire, before the earth shall be restored to fruitfulness,\nand redeemed from the curse of his cupidity. Then shall the toils of the\nfarm become eloquent and invigorating leisures; Man shall grow his\norchards and plant his gardens\u2014an husbandman truly, sowing and reaping\nin hope, and a partaker in his hope. Labor will be attractive; life will\nnot be worn in anxious and indurating toils; it will be a scene of mixed\nleisure, recreation, labor, culture. The soil, grateful then for man\u2019s\ngenerous usage, debauched no more by foul ordures, nor worn by\ncupidities, shall recover its primeval virginity, bearing on its bosom\nthe standing bounties which a sober and liberal Providence ministers to\nhis heed\u2014sweet and invigorating growths, for the health and comfort of\nthe grower.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nMr. Sanborn, commenting on this, remarks:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt was in the spirit of the passages just quoted from Alcott\u2019s\ndiary ... and not from the ordinary Fourieristic notions about\nattractions and destinies and co\u00f6perative housekeeping that Alcott\nundertook his experiment at \u2018Fruitlands.\u2019\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nAlcott\u2019s theory of human life was thus set down in his Diary:\u2014\n\n\u201cI have been (as is ever the habit of my mind) striving to apprehend the\nreal in the seeming, to strip ideas of their adventitious phrases, and\nbehold them in their order and powers. I have sought to penetrate the\nshowy terrestrial to find the heavenly things; I have tried to translate\ninto ideas the language and images of spirit, and thus to read God in\nhis works. The outward I have seen as the visible type of the inward.\nEver doth this same nature double its divine form, and stand forth\u2014now\nbefore the inner, now before the outer sense of man\u2014at once substance\nand form, image and idea, so that God shall never slip wholly from\nconsciousness of the Soul. Faith apprehends his agency, even in the\nmeanest and most seemingly trivial act, whenever organ or matter undergo\nchange of function or mode of form,\u2014Spirit being all in all. Amidst all\ntumults and discomfitures, all errors and evils, Faith discerns the\nsubtle bond that marries opposite natures, clinging to that which holds\nall in harmonious union. It unites opposites; it demolishes opposing\nforces. It melts all solid and obstinate matters. It makes fluid the\nmaterial universe. It hopes even in despair, believes in the midst of\ndoubts, apprehends stability and order even in confusion and anarchy,\nand, while all without is perturbed and wasting, it possesses itself in\nquietude and repose within. It abides in the unswerving, is mighty in\nthe omnipotent, and enduring in the eternal. The soul quickened by its\nagency, though borne on the waves of the mutable and beset by the winds\nof error and the storms of evil, shall ride securely under this\ndirecting hand to the real and the true. In the midst of change, it\nshall remain unchanged. For to such a faith is the divine order of God\nmade known. All visible things are but manifestations of this order.\nNature, with all its change, is but the activity of this power. It flows\naround and obeys the invisible self-anchored spirit. Mutability to such\na vision, is as the eddy that spirit maketh around its own self-circling\nagency, revealing alike in the smallest ripple and the mightiest surges\nthe power that stirreth at the centre.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n VI\n\n FATHER HECKER\u2019S DESCRIPTION OF FRUITLANDS\n\n\n[Isaac Thomas Hecker was born in New York in 1819. Two years after his\nexperience at Brook Farm and Fruitlands he entered the Roman Catholic\nchurch, and in 1849 he was ordained a priest. Later he founded the\nPaulist Fathers. He died in 1888. The following extracts are taken from\na contemporary record of his impressions while in the socialistic\ncommunity.]\n\n\u201cFruitlands,\u201d so called because fruit was to be the principal staple of\ndaily food, and to be cultivated on the farm, was a spot well chosen; it\nwas retired, breathing quiet and tranquillity. No neighboring dwelling\nobstructed the view of Nature, and it lay some distance even from a\nbypath road, in a delightful solitude. The house, somewhat dilapidated,\nwas on the slope of a slowly ascending hill; stretched before it was a\nsmall valley under cultivation, with fields of corn, potatoes, and\nmeadow. In the distance loomed up on high \u201cCheshire\u2019s haughty hill,\u201d\nMonadnoc. Such was the spot chosen by men inspired to live a holier\nlife, to bring Eden once more upon earth. These men were impressed with\nthe religiousness of their enterprise. When the first load of hay was\ndriven into the barn and the first fork was about to be plunged into it,\none of the family took off his hat and said, \u201cI take off my hat, not\nthat I reverence the barn more than other places, but because this is\nthe first fruit of our labor.\u201d Then a few moments were given to silence,\nthat holy thought might be awakened.\n\n * * * * *\n\n July 7, 1843. Brook Farm.\n\nI go to Mr. Alcott\u2019s next Tuesday, if nothing happens. I have had three\npairs of coarse pants and a coat made for me. It is my intention to\ncommence work as soon as I get there. I will gradually simplify my dress\nwithout making any sudden difference, although it would be easier to\nmake a radical and thorough change at once than piece by piece. But this\nwill be a lesson in patient perseverance to me. All our difficulties\nshould be looked at in such a light as to improve and elevate our minds.\n\nI can hardly prevent myself from saying how much I shall miss the\ncompany of those I love and associate with here. But I must go. I am\ncalled with a stronger voice. This is a different trial from any I have\never had. I have never had that of leaving kindred, but now I have that\nof leaving those whom I love from affinity. If I wished to live a life\nthe most gratifying to me, and in agreeable company, I certainly would\nremain here. Here are refining amusements, cultivated persons\u2014and one\nwhom I have not spoken of, one who is too much to me to speak of, one\nwho would leave all for me. Alas! him I must leave to go.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n ISAAC T. HECKER\n]\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201c[In this final sentence, as it now stands in the diary and as we have\ntranscribed it, occurs one of those efforts of which we have spoken to\nobliterate the traces of this early attachment. \u2018Him\u2019 was originally\nwritten \u2018her,\u2019 but the _r_ has been lengthened to an _m_, and the _e_\ndotted, both with care which overshot their mark, by an almost\nimperceptible hair\u2019s breadth. If the nature of this attachment were not\nso evident from other sources, we should have left such passages\nunquoted; fearing lest they might be misunderstood. As it is, the light\nthey cast seems to us to throw up into fuller proportions the kind and\nextent of the renunciations to which Isaac Hecker was called before he\nhad arrived at any clear view of the end to which they tended.]\u201d[9]\n\nFootnote 9:\n\n Walter Elliott\u2019s _Life of Father Hecker_.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Fruitlands, July 12.\n\nLast evening I arrived here. After tea I went out in the fields and\nraked hay for an hour in company with the persons here. We returned and\nhad a conversation on clothing. Some very fine things were said by Mr.\nAlcott and Mr. Lane. In most of their thoughts I coincide; they are the\nsame which of late have much occupied my mind. Alcott said that \u201cto\nEmerson the world was a lecture room, to Brownson a rostrum.\u201d\n\nThis morning after breakfast a conversation was held on Friendship and\nits laws and conditions. Mr. Alcott places Innocence first; Larned,\nThoughtfulness; I, Seriousness; Lane, Fidelity.\n\n * * * * *\n\n July 13.\n\nThis morning after breakfast there was held a conversation on the\nHighest Aim. Mr. Alcott said it was Integrity; I, Harmonic being; Lane,\nProgressive being; Larned, Annihilation of self; Bower, Repulsion of the\nevil in us. Then there was a confession of the obstacles which prevent\nus from attaining the highest aim. Mine was the doubt whether the light\nis light; not want of will to follow, or light to see.\n\n * * * * *\n\n July 17.\n\nI cannot understand what it is that leads me, or what I am after. Being\nis incomprehensible. What shall I be led to? Is there a being whom I may\nmarry and who would be the means of opening my eyes? Sometimes I think\nso, but it appears impossible. Why should others tell me that it is so,\nand will be so, in an unconscious way, as Larned did on Sunday last, and\nas others have done before him? Will I be led home? It strikes me these\npeople here, Alcott and Lane, will be a great deal to me. I do not know\nbut they may be what I am looking for, or the answer to that in me which\nis asking.\n\nCan I say it? I believe it should be said. Here I cannot end. They are\ntoo near me; they do not awaken in me that sense of their high\nsuperiority which would keep me here to be bettered, to be elevated.\nThey have much, very much. I desire Mr. Alcott\u2019s strength of\nself-denial, and the unselfishness of Mr. Lane in money matters. In both\nthese they are far my superior. I would be meek, humble, and sit at\ntheir feet that I might be as they are. They do not understand me, but\nif I am what my consciousness, my heart, lead me to feel,\u2014if I am not\ndeceived,\u2014why, then I can wait. Yes, patiently wait. Is not this the\nfirst time since I have been here that I have recovered myself? Do I not\nfeel that I have something to receive here, to add to, to increase my\nhighest life, which I have never felt anywhere else?\n\nIs this sufficient to keep me here? If I can prophesy, I must say no. I\nfeel that it will not fill my capacity. Oh God! strengthen my\nresolution. Let me not waver, and continue my life. But I am sinful. Oh\nforgive my sins! what shall I do, O Lord! that they may be blotted out?\nLord could I only blot them out from my memory, nothing would be too\ngreat or too much.\n\n * * * * *\n\n July 18.\n\nI have thought of my family this afternoon, and the happiness and love\nwith which I might return to them. To leave them, to give up the idea of\nliving with them again.\u2014Can I entertain that idea? Still, I cannot\nconceive how I can engage in business, share the practices, and indulge\nmyself with the food and garmenture of our home and city. To return\nhome, were it possible for me, would most probably not only stop my\nprogress, but put me back. It is useless for me to speculate upon my\nfuture. Put dependence on the spirit which leads me, be faithful to it,\nwork and leave results to God. If the question should be asked me,\nwhether I would give up my kindred and business and follow out this\nspirit life, or return and enjoy them both, I could not hesitate a\nmoment, for they would not compare\u2014there would be no room for choice.\nWhat I do I must do, for it is not I that do it; it is the spirit. What\nthat spirit may be is a question I cannot answer. What it leads me to do\nwill be the only evidence of its character. I feel as impersonal as a\nstranger to it. I ask who are you? Where are you going to take me? Why\nme? Why not some one else? Alas! I cry, who am I and what does this\nmean? And I am lost in wonder.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Saturday, July 21.\n\nYesterday, after supper, a conversation took place between Mr. Alcott,\nMr. Lane, and myself; the subject was my position with regard to my\nfamily, my duty, and my position here. Mr. Alcott asked for my first\nimpressions as regards the hinderances that I have noted since coming\nhere. I told him candidly they were:\n\nFirst, his want of frankness; 2d, his disposition to separateness rather\nthan win co-operation with the aims in his own mind; 3d, his family who\nprevent his immediate plans of reformation; 4th, the fact that his place\nhas very little fruit on it, when it was and is their desire that fruit\nshould be the principal part of their diet; 5th, my fear that they have\ntoo decided tendency toward literature and writing for the prosperity\nand success of their enterprise.\n\n * * * * *\n\n[From this on, the diary is full of questionings and unrest. Should he\nreturn to his family and live as an ordinary man, or should he listen to\nthe urge of the spirit within and seek further for the light? These and\nother questions pursued him night and day. Finally he came to a\nconclusion.]\n\n * * * * *\n\n July 23.\n\nI will go home, be true to the spirit with the help of God, and wait for\nfurther light and strength.... I feel that I cannot live at this place\nas I would. This is not the place for my soul.... My life is not theirs.\nThey have been the means of giving me much light on myself, but I feel I\nwould live and progress more in a different atmosphere.\n\n * * * * *\n\n[It is interesting to note that after his return home he continued the\ndiet which was used at Fruitlands. The account of his life states: \u201cOne\nof the first noteworthy things revealed by the diary, which from this\ntime on was kept with less regularity than before,\u2014is that Isaac not\nonly maintained his abstemious habits after his return, but increased\ntheir vigor.\u201d]\n\n * * * * *\n\n August 30.\n\nIf the past nine months or more are any evidence, I find that I can live\non very simple diet\u2014grains, fruit, and nuts. I have just commenced to\neat the latter; I drink pure water. So far I have had wheat ground and\nmade into unleavened bread, but as soon as we get in a new lot, I shall\ntry it in the grain.\n\n * * * * *\n\nHecker had evidently at this time a practical conviction of the truth of\na principle which, in after years, he repeated in the form of a maxim of\nthe Transcendentalists: \u201cA gross feeder will never be a central\nthinker.\u201d It is a truth of the spiritual no less than of the\nintellectual order. A little later we come upon the following profession\nof a vegetarian faith:\u2014\n\n\u201cReasons for not eating animal food.\n\n\u201cIt does not feed the spirit.\n\n\u201cIt stimulates the propensities.\n\n\u201cIt is taking animal life when the other kingdoms offer sufficient and\nbetter increment. Slaughter strengthens the lower instincts. It is the\nchief cause of the slavery of the kitchen.\n\n\u201cIt generates in the body the diseases animals are subject to, and\nencourages in man their bestiality.\n\n\u201cIts odor is offensive and its appearance un\u00e6sthetic.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nMr. Alcott\u2019s death in 1888 was the occasion of reminiscences from Father\nHecker, from which a few extracts are taken:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhen did I first know him? Hard to remember. He was the head of\nFruitlands, as Ripley was of Brook Farm. They were entirely different\nmen. Diogenes and his tub would have been Alcott\u2019s ideal if he had\ncarried it out. Ripley\u2019s ideal would have been Epictetus. Ripley would\nhave taken with him the good things of this life. Alcott would have\nrejected them all.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did he receive you at Fruitlands?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery kindly, but from mixed and selfish motives. I suspect he wanted me\nbecause he thought I would bring money to the Community. Lane was\nentirely unselfish.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlcott was a man of great intellectual gifts or acquirements. His\nknowledge came chiefly from experience and instinct. He had an\ninsinuating and persuasive way with him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat if he had been a Catholic, and thoroughly sanctified?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe could have been nothing but a hermit like those of the fourth\ncentury\u2014he was naturally and constitutionally so odd. Emerson, Alcott,\nand Thoreau were three consecrated cranks.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nHere also are two interesting passages from the \u201cLife of Father Hecker,\u201d\nand a few memoranda of private conversations:\u2014\n\n\u201cSomebody once described \u2018Fruitlands\u2019 as a place where Mr. Alcott looked\nbenign and talked philosophy, while Mrs. Alcott and the children did the\nwork. Still to look benign is a good deal for a man to do persistently\nin an adverse world, indifferent for the most part to the charms of\n\u2018divine philosophy,\u2019 and Mr. Alcott persevered in that exercise until\nhis latest day.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was unquestionably one of those who like to sit upon a platform,\u201d\nwrote at the time of his death, one who knew Alcott well, \u201cand he may\nhave liked to feel that his venerable aspect had the effect of a\nbenediction.\u201d \u201cBut with this mild criticism, censure of him is well-nigh\nexhausted.\u201d\n\n\u201cFruitlands was very different from Brook Farm\u2014far more ascetic.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou didn\u2019t like it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; but they did not begin to satisfy me. I said to them: If you had\nthe Eternal here, all right, I would be with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHad they no notion of hereafter?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, nothing definite. Their idea was human perfection. They set out to\ndemonstrate what man can do in the way of the supremacy of the spiritual\nover the animal; All right, I said, I agree with you fully. I admire\nyour asceticism; it is nothing new to me; I have practiced it a long\ntime myself. If you can get the Everlasting out of my mind, I\u2019m yours.\nBut I know that I am going to live forever.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did Mr. Alcott say when you left?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe went to Lane and said, \u2018Well, Hecker has flunked out. He hadn\u2019t the\ncourage to persevere. He\u2019s a coward.\u2019 But Lane said, \u2018No; you\u2019re\nmistaken. Hecker is right. He wanted more than we had to give him.\u2019\u201d\n\n\n\n\n VII\n\n ANNA ALCOTT\u2019S DIARY AT FRUITLANDS\n\n\n 1843.\n\nThis morning I rose pretty early. After breakfast I read and wrote\nstories. In the afternoon I wrote some letters, And the following ode to\nLouisa:\u2014\n\n Louisa dear\n With love sincere\n Accept this little gift from me.\n It is with pleasure\n I send this treasure\n And with it send much love to thee.\n\n Sister dear\n Never fear.\n God will help you if you try.\n Do not despair,\n But always care\n To be good and love to try.\n\n * * * * *\n\n June 6, 1843.\n\nHaving been busy helping arrange things for moving last Thursday, we\nleft Concordia later for Harvard. I walked part of the way, the distance\nbeing 14 miles from Concord to Harvard. I felt sad at the thought of\nleaving Concord and all my little friends, the birth-place of Abba where\nI had spent many happy hours; but Father and Mother and my dear sisters\nwere going with me, and that would make me happy anywhere, I think. We\narrived at our new home late in the afternoon. Our first load of\nfurniture had come before us. We found Christy, Wood Abraham, and\nWilliam all here. Mother was well pleased with the house. There is no\nbeauty in the house itself, but to look out on three sides, you can see\nmountains, hills, woods, and in some places the Still River may be seen\nthrough the trees. At some distance are the Shaker Villages. On the\nwhole, I like the house very well. After eating our supper we fixed our\nbeds and went early to bed. Having no time to put up the bedsteads, we\nslept on the floor which made my back lame. Friday and Saturday in\nworking and arranging the house in order. To-day in the morning I\ncleared the table and washed the dishes, being washing day. I washed\nwith Mother and got dinner. In the afternoon I sewed and read. I did not\ndo much this evening, for I went to bed when I had finished the dishes.\nThe men have been planting to-day corn, and cutting wood and fixing\nround about the house out of doors.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Wednesday, 11.\n\nI began my school to-day. We commenced by singing, \u201cWhen the day with\nrosy light.\u201d It seemed so pleasant to sing with my sisters. After\nsinging I wrote my journal and the girls wrote in their books. They then\nstudied arithmetic lesson. I then gave them a recess, after which they\nspelt, read and Louisa recited geography. At eleven the school was\ndismissed. In the afternoon I sewed for my dolly and took care of Abba,\nthen all went to walk in the woods. It was quiet and beautiful there and\nI felt a calmness in myself. The sun was shining and the birds were\nsinging in the branches of the high trees. It was so beautiful it seemed\nas if God was near me. I made some oak leaf wreaths, one for father and\none for mother, and stuck flowers in them. They looked very pretty\nindeed. Then we returned from our walk and prepared for supper. In the\nevening I sang with Christy, William, mother, and sisters.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Thursday, 8.\n\nTo-day I gave the children lessons this morning. In the afternoon I\nwrote. Christy is going to teach me arithmetic and composition, and the\nsubject upon which I am to write is our plan of life. The part I wrote\non to-day was flesh-eating. I will write it in here.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n ABBA MAY ALCOTT\n]\n\n[Illustration:\n\n LOUISA MAY ALCOTT\n]\n\n[Illustration:\n\n ANNA BRONSON ALCOTT\n]\n\n\n COMPOSITION\n\nLife was given to the animals not to be destroyed by men, but to make\nthem happy, and that they might enjoy life. But men are not satisfied\nwith slaying the innocent creatures, but they eat them and so make their\nbodies of flesh meat. O how many happy lives have been destroyed and how\nmany loving families have been separated to please an unclean appetite\nof men! Why were the fruits, berries and vegetables given us if it was\nintended that we should eat flesh? I am sure it was not. We enjoy the\nbeautiful sights and thoughts God has given us in peace. Why not let\nthem do the same? We have souls to feel and think with, and as they have\nnot the same power of thinking, they should be allowed to live in peace\nand not made to labour so hard and be beaten so much. Then to eat them!\neat what has had life and feeling to make the body of the innocent\nanimals! If treated kindly, they would be kind and tame and love men,\nbut as they now are abused and cruelly treated they do not feel the\nfeeling of \u201clove\u201d towards men. Besides flesh is not clean food, and when\nthere is beautiful juicy fruits who can be a flesh-eater?\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn the evening I sang again as I did last night.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Friday, 9.\n\nAfter breakfast, it being my day for dishes, I cleared up the table. At\neleven I had my composition lesson. In the afternoon I sewed, read and\nplayed. I sewed in the evening and went to bed early.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Saturday, 10.\n\nThis morning father and Mr. Lane went to visit the Shakers in Harvard\ntown. I did the chamber work and then worked and made some bread for\ndinner, and prepared things ready for it. In the afternoon I laid down,\nit being very warm out, and read in \u201cDevereux\u201d which pleased me very\nwell. It rained hard and steadily for some time. Father and Mr. Lane\nreturned late in the afternoon. They brought home sweet things they had\npurchased of the Shakers. We played out on the grounds a little while\nand then I read and went to bed early.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Sunday, 11.\n\nI read until 10 o\u2019clock when we had reading. In the afternoon I read,\nwrote and had my lessons with Christy. In the evening I received a note\nfrom mother accompanied by a roll containing some wafers and some note\npaper. It was as follows:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\nDEAR ANNA:\n\nI send you a little note paper and a few wafers. You have so much to do\nlately that I cannot expect you to write often to me, but you must not\nforget that this is a little duty of yours that gives me a great deal of\nhappiness. This last word reminds me of one of father\u2019s beautiful\nselections to-day.\n\n \u201cHappiness is like the bird\n That broods above its nest\n And feels beneath its folded wings\n Life\u2019s dearest and its best.\u201d\n\nI am sure I feel as if I could fold my arms around you all, and say from\nmy heart, \u201cHere is my world within my embrace.\u201d Let us try, dear Anna,\nto make it a good and beautiful world,\u2014that when we are called to leave\nit we may be fit to join the good and beautiful of another sphere.\n\n All things proclaim\n In the valley and plain\n That God is near.\n Hills, vales and brooks,\n Sweet words and looks,\n Cast out all fear.\n\n Be the dove of our ark,\n Dear Anna remark\n You\u2019re my eldest and best,\n Now you know all the rest,\n\n So farewell dear,\n God is near,\n No evil fear,\n Be happy here.\n\n MOTHER.\n\nI love to receive letters from mother. She always writes me such dear\nkind notes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Monday, 12.\n\nThis morning mother baked. I read. Mrs. Lovejoy and Mrs. Willard came\nhere to see mother. In the afternoon I read and wrote, and took a walk\nwith the girls into the woods. In the evening I played and had a shower\nbath, and then went to bed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Tuesday, 13.\n\nMrs. Willard came here and helped mother wash to-day. I helped her some.\nIn the morning I took care of Abba and wrote some. In the afternoon I\nplayed, studied, and worked. When Mrs. Willard went home Louisa and I\nwalked with her to learn the way to the house where she lives, for as\nshe took some sewing to do for mother, we wanted to know the way there.\nWe saw some young women braiding straw hats. One of them did it very\nfast indeed. I think I should like to know how to make hats. Their\nmother asked us to come and see them (her name is Willard) and mother\nsaid we might go. We rode home with Mr. Wyman. When we got here we found\ntwo young ladies and a girl who came to see us. They soon went home. I\nate my supper and soon after it went to my bed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Wednesday, 14.\n\nI ironed to-day with mother, and read some. I have not very much to say\nand so I will write a French fable. [Here a fable is written out in very\ngood French.]\n\n * * * * *\n\n Thursday, 15.\n\nThis morning I felt quite unwell, so I laid down and saw Louisa keep\nschool for Lizzie and Abba. I read in \u201cTales of a Traveller\u201d most all\nthe morning. In the afternoon I had a composition lesson, and then saw\nfather and Abraham winnow some corn and some barley. I then rode to the\nmill with him and took Abba with us. I never saw a mill working before\nthat I recollect. I sewed when I came home and in the evening talked.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Friday, 16.\n\nUncle Christy went to Boston this morning. As I was running to bid him\ngood-bye my foot slipped and I fell down on my back. It hurt me a good\ndeal and I had a pain in my side. In the afternoon I went to bed and\nread. When I got up I fainted. I went to my bed early.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Saturday, 24.\n\nThis was Lizzie\u2019s birthday. I arose before five o\u2019clock and went with\nmother, William, and Louisa to the woods where we fixed a little pine\ntree in the ground and hung up all the presents on it. I then made a\nwreath for all of us of oak leaves. After breakfast we all, except\nAbraham, marched to the wood. Mr. Lane took his fiddle with him and we\nsang first. Then father read a parable, and then this ode which he wrote\nhimself. I will write it on the next page. Father then asked me what\nflower I should give Lizzie on her birthday. I said a rose, the emblem\nof Love and Purity. Father also chose a rose. Louisa said a\nLily-of-the-Valley, or innocence,\u2014Mother said she should give her a\nForget-me-not, or remembrance. Christy said the trailing Arbutus, the\nemblem of perseverance. Mr. Lane gave her a piece of moss, or humility.\nAbba gave her a Wakerobin. I do not know what that means. We then sang.\nLizzie looked at her presents and seemed much pleased. Mother gave her a\nsilk thread balloon, I a fan, Louisa a pin-cushion, William a book, Abba\na little pitcher. Mr. Lane wrote some lines of poetry which I will write\nin here:\u2014\n\n\n TO ELIZABETH\n\n Of all the year the sunniest day\n Appointed for thy birth\n Is emblem of the longest stay\n With us upon the earth.\n\n Now dressed in flowers\n The merry hours\n Fill up the day and night.\n May your whole life\n Exempt from strife\n Shine forth as calm and bright.\n\n FRUITLANDS.\n\nHere is father\u2019s:\u2014\n\n\n BIRTHDAY ODE\n\n I\n\n Here in the grove\n With those we love,\n In the cool shade\n Near mede and glade\n With clover tints ore\u2019laid\u2014\n A haunt which God ourselves have made\u2014\n The trees among\n With leaves are hung.\n On sylvan plat,\n On forest mat,\n Near meadow sweet\n We take our seat,\n While all around\n Swells forth the sound\n Our happy hearts repeat.\n The wood and dell\n Our joy to tell\n The morning, and\n Our peace to share,\n Flows by his cool\n A balmy school,\n The Sun his fires\n His kindled iris\n Not yet inspires\n In mid-noon blaze\n His scorching rays,\n But all is calm and fresh and clear\n And all breathes peace around us here.\n\n II\n\n Wake, wake harmonious swell\n Along this deep sequestered dell,\n Along the grass and brake,\n And where the cattle slake\n Their thirst, when glides\n Adown the sloping sides\n In ceaseless frit\n The wizard rivulet,\n And let the spring maze\n Join with violin note\n In hymning forth our praise\n From forth melodious throat\n Our holy joy to tell.\n\n III\n\n Father\u2019s here\n And Mother dear\n And sisters all,\n The short and tall,\n And Father\u2019s friends\n Whom Briton lends\n To noblest human ends,\n With younger arm\n From Brooklet farm,\n But absent now\n At yonder plough\n With shining, cleaving share\n Upturning to the upper air\n The obstinate soil,\n The sober son of hardy toil.\n\n IV\n\n Here, here we all repair\n Our hope and love to share,\n To celebrate\n In rustic state\n Midst this refulgent whole\n The joyful advent of an angel soul\n That twice four years ago\n Our mundane world to know\n Descended from the upper skies\n A presence to our veriest eyes\n And now before us stands\n And asketh at our bounteous hands\n Some token of our zeal,\n In her most holy weal\n Before us stands arrayed\n In garments of a maid.\n Untainted and pure her soul\n As when she left the whole\n That doeth this marvelling scene\n And day by day doth preach\n The gospel meant for each\n That on this solid sphere\n For mortal\u2019s ear.\n\n V\n\n Then take our tokens all\n From great and small\n And close that noblest treasure beat\n That in your heart doth sleep.\n Mind what the spirit saith\n And plight therein thy faith,\n My very dear Elizabeth,\n Nor let the enemy wrest\n The heavenly harvest from that field,\n Nor tares permit to sow,\n Nor hate, nor woe\n In the pure soil God\u2019s grace itself would sow;\u2014\n But bloom and open all the day\n And be a flower that none shall pluck away,\n A rose of Fruitland\u2019s quiet dell,\n A child intent on doing well\n Devout secluded from all sin\n Fragrance without and fair within\n A plant matured in God\u2019s device\n An Amaranth in Paradise.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Monday, 17 July, 1843.\n\nThis morning, not feeling well, I did not join the singing class, but\nkept my bed till after breakfast. We had no lessons to-day and I sewed.\nI believe I will write a story called The May Morning.\n\n\n A FABLE\n _The May Morning_\n\nEarly one morning in May a father conducted his son Theodore into the\ngarden of a rich man which the boy had never yet seen. The garden was\nsituated at a distance from the city, and it was adorned with all sorts\nof shrubs and plants, beds of flowers and fruit trees, shady alleys and\npleasant groves. Through the middle of the garden wandered a pellucid\nstream which fell from a rock and formed a large pool at its foot. In\nthe cool dell the water turned a mill. In the most beautiful spot in the\ngarden were seats entwined with roses and verdant bowers.\n\nTheodore could not satiate his eyes with the charms of the place. He\nwalked beside his father mostly in silent amaze, but sometimes he would\nexclaim: \u201cO Father, how lovely and beautiful is this garden!\u201d\n\nWhen they had seen many things and were weary with their walk the father\nconducted the boy through the plantations to the fall of a stream and\nthey sat down on the brow of a hill. Here they listened to the roaring\nof the water which tumbled foaming from the ledge of the rocks, and in\nthe surrounding thickets were perched nightingales which mingled their\nstrains with the hoarse murmur of the fall. And Theodore thought he\nnever yet had heard nightingales sing so delightfully. While they thus\nsat and listened they heard the voice of a man and the voices of\nchildren. They were the children of the miller, a boy and a girl, and\nthey were leading their old blind grandfather between them, and telling\nhim about the beautiful shrubs and flowers by the wayside, and amusing\nthe old man by their lively and simple prattle.\n\nThey conducted him to a seat in an arbor and kissed him, and ran about\nthe garden to gather flowers and fruit for him. But the old man smiled,\nand when he was alone he uncovered his head and prayed with a cheerful\ncountenance. Then the hearts of Theodore and his father overflowed, and\nthey offered up prayer and praise with the old man, and Theodore was\novercome by his feelings so that he could not repress his tears.\n\nThe children soon afterwards appeared, and they shouted from afar, and\nthey brought sweet-smelling flowers and ripe fruit to their blind\ngrandfather. But Theodore said to his father as they were returning\nhome, \u201cO what a delightful, what a happy morning!\u201d\n\n\n THE FOUNTAIN\n\n \u201cThe little fountain flows\n So noiseless through the wood\n The wanderer tastes repose\n And from its silent flood\n Learns meekly to do good.\u201d\n\nIt\u2019s short, but I thought it was very pretty.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Tuesday, 18.\n\nThis morning after doing my work I had lessons. I wrote some in my\njournal and did some sums. In the afternoon I went blue-berrying with\nLizzie and picked nearly, if not quite, a quart. I read in the evening.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Wednesday, 19.\n\nWe had a descriptive lesson this morning and each of us wrote a\ndescription of Fruitlands.\n\nI wrote the following one:\u2014\n\n\n \u201cFRUITLANDS\u201d\n\nIt is a beautiful place surrounded by hills, green fields and woods, and\nStill River is at some distance flowing quietly along. Wachusett and\nMonadoc Mountains are in sight, and also some houses and fields of\ngrain. The house itself is now very pleasantly situated. It has a\nvegetable garden behind it and some fruit trees. On the left a hill on\nthe top of which are pastures and a road. In front is a small garden,\nand fields and a house at some distance. On the right is a large barn,\ngrain and potato field, woods and mountains. There are many pleasant\nwalks about Fruitlands, and berry fields, though the berries are not yet\nquite ripe.\n\nIt is a pleasant place to live in, I think.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE COMMUNITY SETTLE\n]\n\n * * * * *\n\n Thursday, 20.\n\nI had my lesson this morning with Mr. Lane and I did some sums with\nfractions. I never did any till Mr. Lane began to teach me, and I think\nI have learned more lately than I ever did before. I think I understand\nwhat I learn too. In the afternoon I had my shower bath and sewed. Mrs.\nLovejoy came here to see Mother and brought her little baby with her. I\ntook care of it a good deal. Charlotte and Ellen Dudley came to see me\nand went to Mrs. Barnard\u2019s of an errand with me. I there became\nacquainted with Adelaide Barnard. We all went into the schoolhouse and\nplayed together. In the evening I sewed a little bit and then went to\nbed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Sunday, 23.\n\nI did not feel well this morning, so I did not attend the readings, but\nread in Miss Edgeworth\u2019s \u201cBelinda.\u201d In the afternoon I sewed some and\nmother finished \u201cSowing and Reaping\u201d aloud. I then went to look for\nblueberries, but did not find but a very few. When I returned I had\nsupper and after that I read.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Monday, 24.\n\nI had no lessons to-day, Mr. Lane being unwell and father busy. Mother\nwashed and Louisa and I helped her. I then shelled some peas for dinner.\nYesterday Christy went away. He will return sometime I guess. In the\nafternoon I read part of \u201cMademoiselle Panache.\u201d I then wrote my journal\nand took care of Abba. William and I then ironed till we went to supper.\nIn the evening I looked for berries and went pretty early to bed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Tuesday, 25.\n\nThis morning I had lessons by myself. I did a French lesson and wrote in\nmy journal. I then sewed some. In the afternoon I made some little\npresents to give Abba as to-morrow is her birthday. I then raked hay. In\nthe evening I read in \u201cMotherless Ellen.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n Wednesday, 26.\n\nAbba\u2019s birthday. We did not do anything to celebrate except that I put\nsome presents into her stocking last night and she found them there this\nmorning. After breakfast father and Mr. Lane started for Boston with Mr.\nHecker. We had no lessons. I washed, and the three other children went\nto a mill for a walk. I arranged a room for myself. It is to be my room\nand I to stay by myself in it. I then set the dinner table. The children\ndid not return till after dinner. I had a bath and then arranged some\npictures for my scrap-book. As Mother was going into the fields to help\nwith the hay, I joined her, and after working there some time went with\nLouisa to look for berries. We found about a pint. In the evening I read\nin \u201cMotherless Ellen\u201d some more.\n\nI rose pretty early this morning and having bathed and dressed sat down\nto write my journal. Having done so I went downstairs and eat breakfast.\nAfter I had done I went with Louisa and William to pick blackberries. We\ngot about two quarts. When we returned I read and then worked with\nWilliam. In the afternoon I wrote and went to Mrs. Lovejoy\u2019s. I then had\na bath and wrote, after which I read in the newspapers. In the evening I\nplayed.\n\n\n POETRY\n\n I never cast a flower away\n The gift of one who cared for me\n A little flower\u2014a faded flower\n But it was done reluctantly.\n\n I never looked a last adieu\n To things familiar but my heart\n Shrank with a feeling almost pain\n Even from their lifelessness.\n\n I never spoke the word farewell\n But with an utterance faint and broken\n A heart with yearning for the time\n When it should never more be spoken.\n\n * * * * *\n\n September, 6.\n\nI think the world would be a very dismal world without books. I could\nnot live without them. I take so much pleasure in reading beautiful\nstories and poetry. I like to hear beautiful words and thoughts.\nBeautiful is my favorite word. If I like anything I always say it is\nbeautiful. It is a beautiful word. I can\u2019t tell the color of it. Louisa\nand I took a walk. It was pleasant if it had only been a little warmer.\nWhen we returned we sat in our chamber. I wrote down all the beautiful\nnames we could think of, and in the evening wrote the colors of them.\n\n * * * * *\n\n[Here Anna\u2019s journal written at Fruitlands comes to a sudden ending.\nNumberless pages have been torn out carefully, and Mr. Alcott\u2019s\nhandwriting appears in footnotes here and there, showing that it was he\nwho destroyed the story of the later days of Fruitlands written from his\nyouthful daughter\u2019s pen. It is one more proof of the intensity of his\nfeelings regarding Fruitlands, and the bitter disappointment that Time\nnever softened. His own journal written there has also been destroyed.\nIt seems as if that experience of failure was too heartrending to him to\nallow the world to share it. We only get glimpses here and there with\nwhich to construct a picture of the New Eden where these\nTranscendentalists worked out a beloved theory and found it wanting. We\nhave the account of the start, so full of enthusiasm and ecstatic\nhopefulness. The curtain has been drawn over the rest as carefully as\nwas possible. Her journal starts again in 1846, but it does not state\nthe month. In it she mentions a point which reveals something of Mr.\nAlcott\u2019s philosophy. She says: \u201cFather said that if a person wanted a\nthing very much and thought of it a great deal, that they would probably\nhave it.\u201d]\n\n\n\n\n VIII\n\n LOUISA MAY ALCOTT\u2019S DIARY AT FRUITLANDS[10]\n\n\n_September 1st._\u2014I rose at five and had my bath. I love cold water! Then\nwe had our singing-lesson with Mr. Lane. After breakfast I washed\ndishes, and ran on the hill till nine and had some thoughts,\u2014it was so\nbeautiful up there. Did my lessons,\u2014wrote and spelt and did sums; and\nMr. Lane read a story, \u201cThe Judicious Father.\u201d How a rich girl told a\npoor girl not to look over the fence at the flowers, and was cross to\nher because she was unhappy. The Father heard her do it, and made the\ngirls change clothes. The poor one was glad to do it, and he told her to\nkeep them. But the rich one was very sad; for she had to wear the old\nones a week, and after that she was good to shabby girls. I liked it\nvery much, and I shall be kind to poor people.\n\nFootnote 10:\n\n When she was ten years old.\n\nFather asked us what was God\u2019s noblest work. Anna said _men_, but I said\n_babies_. Men are often bad; babies never are. We had a long talk, and I\nfelt better after it, and _cleared up_.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n WHERE ABBA MAY\u2019S STOCKING WAS HUNG THE NIGHT BEFORE HER BIRTHDAY\n\n Anna\u2019s bedroom is on the right, next to Mrs. Alcott\u2019s. The portraits\n of the \u201cLittle Women\u201d hang on the wall\n]\n\nWe had bread and fruit for dinner. I read and walked and played till\nsupper-time. We sung in the evening. As I went to bed the moon came up\nvery brightly and looked at me. I felt sad because I have been cross\nto-day, and did not mind Mother. I cried, and then I felt better, and\nsaid that piece from Mrs. Sigourney, \u201cI must not tease my mother.\u201d I get\nto sleep saying poetry,\u2014I know a great deal.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_Thursday, 14th._\u2014Mr. Parker Pillsbury came, and we talked about the\npoor slaves. I had a music lesson with Miss P. I hate her, she is so\nfussy. I ran in the wind and played be a horse, and had a lovely time in\nthe woods with Anna and Lizzie. We were fairies, and made gowns and\npaper wings. I \u201cflied\u201d the highest of all. In the evening they talked\nabout travelling. I thought about Father going to England, and said this\npiece of poetry I found in Byron\u2019s poems:\u2014\n\n \u201cWhen I left thy shores, O Naxos,\n Not a tear in sorrow fell;\n Not a sigh or faltered accent\n Told my bosom\u2019s struggling swell.\u201d\n\nIt rained when I went to bed and made a pretty noise on the roof.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_Sunday, 24th._\u2014Father and Mr. Lane have gone to N. H. to preach. It was\nvery lovely.... Anna and I got supper. In the eve I read \u201cVicar of\nWakefield.\u201d I was cross to-day, and I cried when I went to bed. I made\ngood resolutions, and felt better in my heart. If I only _kept_ all I\nmake, I should be the best girl in the world. But I don\u2019t, and so am\nvery bad.\n\n(Poor little sinner! She says the same at fifty.\u2014L. M. A.)\n\n * * * * *\n\n_October 8th._\u2014When I woke up, the first thought I got was, \u201cIt\u2019s\nMother\u2019s birthday: I must be very good.\u201d I ran and wished her a happy\nbirthday, and gave her my kiss. After breakfast we gave her our\npresents. I had a moss cross and a piece of poetry for her.\n\nWe did not have any school, and played in the woods and got red leaves.\nIn the evening we danced and sung, and I read a story about\n\u201cContentment.\u201d I wish I was rich, I was good, and we were all a happy\nfamily this day.\n\nWe sang the following song:\n\n\n SONG OF MAY\n\n Hail, all hail, thou merry month of May,\n We will hasten to the woods away\n Among the flowers so sweet and gay,\n Then away to hail the merry merry May\u2014\n The merry merry May\u2014\n Then away to hail the merry merry month of May.\n\n Hark, hark, hark, to hail the month of May,\n How the songsters warble on the spray,\n And we will be as blith as they,\n Then away to hail the merry merry May\u2014\n Then away to hail the merry merry month of May.\n\nI think this is a very pretty song and we sing it a good deal.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_Thursday, 12th._\u2014After lessons I ironed. We all went to the barn and\nhusked corn. It was good fun. We worked till eight o\u2019clock and had\nlamps. Mr. Russell came. Mother and Lizzie are going to Boston. I shall\nbe very lonely without dear little Betty, and no one will be as good to\nme as Mother. I read in Plutarch. I made a verse about sunset:\u2014\n\n \u201cSoftly doth the sun descend\n To his couch behind the hill,\n Then, oh, then, I love to sit\n On mossy banks beside the rill.\u201d\n\nAnna thought it was very fine; but I didn\u2019t like it very well.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_Friday, Nov. 2nd._\u2014Anna and I did the work. In the evening Mr. Lane\nasked us, \u201cWhat is man?\u201d These were our answers: A human being; an\nanimal with a mind; a creature; a body; a soul and a mind. After a long\ntalk we went to bed very tired.\n\n * * * * *\n\n(No wonder, after doing the work and worrying their little wits with\nsuch lessons.\u2014L. M. A.)\n\n * * * * *\n\nA sample of the vegetarian wafers used at Fruitlands:\u2014\n\n Vegetable diet\n and sweet repose.\n Animal food and\n nightmare.\n\n Pluck your body\n from the orchard;\n do not snatch it\n from the shamble.\n\n Without flesh diet\n there could be no\n blood-shedding war.\n\n Apollo eats no\n flesh and has no\n beard; his voice is\n melody itself.\n\n Snuff is no less snuff\n though accepted from\n a gold box.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_Tuesday, 20th._\u2014I rose at five, and after breakfast washed the dishes,\nand then helped mother work. Miss P. is gone, and Anna in Boston with\nCousin Louisa. I took care of Abba (May) in the afternoon. In the\nevening I made some pretty things for my dolly. Father and Mr. L. had a\ntalk, and father asked us if _we_ saw any reason for us to separate.\nMother wanted to, she is so tired. I like it, but not the school part or\nMr. L.\n\n * * * * *\n\n_Eleven years old. Thursday, 29th._\u2014It was Father\u2019s and my birthday. We\nhad some nice presents. We played in the snow before school. Mother read\n\u201cRosamond\u201d when we sewed. Father asked us in the eve what fault troubled\nus most. I said my bad temper.\n\nI told mother I liked to have her write in my book. She said she would\nput in more, and she wrote this to help me:\u2014\n\n\u201cDEAR LOUEY,\u2014Your handwriting improves very fast. Take pains and do not\nbe in a hurry. I like to have you make observations about our\nconversations and your own thoughts. It helps you to express them and to\nunderstand your little self. Remember, dear girl, that a diary should be\nan epitome of your life. May it be a record of pure thought and good\nactions, then you will indeed be the precious child of your loving\nmother.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n_December 10th._\u2014I did my lessons, and walked in the afternoon. Father\nread to us in dear \u201cPilgrim\u2019s Progress.\u201d Mr. L. was in Boston and we\nwere glad. In the eve father and mother and Anna and I had a long talk.\nI was very unhappy, and we all cried. Anna and I cried in bed, and I\nprayed God to keep us all together.\n\n\n\n\n IX\n\n AUTUMN DISAPPOINTMENT\n\n\nAs any one knows who has any experience in farming, the true farmer\nspirit shows itself in the man who accepts the disappointment of a\nmeagre crop in spite of his dreams of a plentiful harvest, and working\ndiligently, gets what he can from it.\n\nThe crops at Fruitlands underwent many vicissitudes. No sooner did a\ncrop show some sort of promise than they turned it back into the earth\nagain, in order to enrich the soil, they said. This method did not tend\nto fill the winter storehouse with the needed vegetables, and a faint\nsuggestion of disillusionment began to creep into the perfect harmony of\nthe consociate family as autumn approached. Early in September Mr.\nAlcott and Charles Lane went on a trip in search of recruits. They went\nto Providence and had an evening\u2019s conversation with Mrs. Newcomb and\nsome of her friends, during which Mr. Alcott said that, as competition\nhad made facilities so great, they might take that opportunity to go on\nto New York. Charles Lane then spoke up and said there was no other\nobjection than lack of means, whereupon the company contributed the\nnecessary amount. In writing to Oldham about it, Charles Lane passes\ncomment on what he saw: \u201cWe went to the Graham House to breakfast where\nwe found some people half if not quite alive\u201d and again: \u201cThe number of\nliving persons in the 300,000 inhabitants of New York is very small.\u201d\nDuring this visit they went to see Mrs. L. M. Child, who gave the\nfollowing account of it:\n\n\u201cA day or two after [Theodore] Parker left, Alcott and Lane called to\nsee me. I asked, \u2018What brings you to New York?\u2019 \u2018I don\u2019t know,\u2019 said Mr.\nAlcott; \u2018it seems a miracle that we are here.\u2019 Mr. Child and John Hopper\nwent to hear a discussion between them and W. H. Channing. I asked Mr.\nChild what they talked about. \u2018Lane divided man into three states,\u2014the\ndisconscious, the conscious, and the unconscious. The disconscious is\nthe state of the pig; the conscious is the baptism by water; and the\nunconscious is the baptism by fire.\u2019 I laughed, and said, \u2018Well, how did\nthe whole discussion affect your mind?\u2019 \u2018Why, after I heard them talk a\nfew minutes, I \u2018ll be cursed if I knew whether I had any mind at all.\u2019\nJ. H. stayed rather longer, though he left in the midst. He said they\ntalked about mind and body. \u2018What did they say?\u2019 \u2018Why, Channing seemed\nto think there was some connection between mind and body; but those\nBoston folks, so far as I could understand \u2018em, seemed to think the body\nwas all sham!\u2019\u201d\n\nThere is a story that on their return from New York they went by steamer\nto New Haven. All the money that had been contributed by Mrs. Newcomb\nand her friends had gone, but that did not trouble the philosophers.\nThey boarded the boat quite serenely and when it started sat on deck\nenjoying the breeze. The ticket-man came to each passenger for his\nticket, and when he came to Mr. Alcott and Mr. Lane, sitting there in\ntheir linen suits, he asked them for theirs. Quite undisturbed Mr.\nAlcott replied that they had no money or scrip, but they would quite\nwillingly pay their way by addressing the passengers and crew with a\nlittle conversation in the saloon. It is said that in reply the language\nof the ticket-man was not as civil as it should have been.\n\nIt was all very pleasant, this wandering off and showing their linen\ntunics to the world and holding conversations to enlighten people in\nregard to the future wonders of the New Eden, but the day they left\nFruitlands Joseph Palmer was off attending to his cattle at No Town, and\nthe crop of barley had been cut and was waiting to be harvested. Poor\nMrs. Alcott looked at it with anxious eyes. The granary was almost empty\nand this barley meant food. She could forget herself, but she could not\nignore the needs of her children. Christopher Greene and Larned and\nBower were also away. The barley lay there with no one to bring it in to\na safe shelter. The next day she looked at it again with a sinking\nheart. As the afternoon waned, black clouds covered the sky and flashes\nof lightning rent seams through them with terrifying rapidity. Then Mrs.\nAlcott made a quick decision. Gathering all the baskets she could find,\nshe carried them to the barley-field with the help of the children, and\nin hot haste they gathered the barley into the baskets and dragged them\nto the granary, and then ran back as fast as they could for more. Thus\nthey worked with all their strength, and when the storm broke, they had\nsaved enough to last them for at least a few weeks.\n\nSo if Mrs. Alcott lacked, as Lane said, spiritual insight, she\nfortunately for them had practical foresight, from which they all reaped\na benefit.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe following letter to Mr. Oldham is suggestive of the trend of affairs\nin the community:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\n FRUITLANDS, HARVARD, MASS.,\n September 29, 1843.\n\nOn our arrival at home we learnt that in our absence several friends and\nstrangers had called, amongst them S. Bower, Parker Pillsbury, and an\nacquaintance, Mr. Hamond of New Ipswich in New Hampshire State. Thinking\nthe latter worth seeing we went to visit him, a distance of about\ntwenty-five miles. He is married to an exoteric wife of some good\nhousehold qualities; he has built with his own hands a smart cottage,\nbeing an expert workman, and has moreover a respectable talent for\nportrait painting which he estimates humbly without a consciousness of\nhumility. Next to Edward Palmer, he is a person who, I should think,\nwould make one with us. He introduced us at two houses to four females\nwho vitally considered constitute with himself the whole of the town.\nOur visit there will do some good, for though they have read my letters\nprinted last winter in the newspapers, yet the presence of a living\nperson is much more real a thing. I saw their good intentions were\ngreatly encouraged. I could not dissuade the oldest from promising never\nto taste flesh again, which I was rather inclined to on account of her\nyears....\n\nOn Saturday last Anna Alcott most magnanimously walked her little legs\nfourteen miles in about five hours down to old Concord, where our\nfriends appear to have been pretty somnolent since our departure. On\nTuesday we returned on foot, and accomplished somewhat towards the\nliberation of the animals by a heroine of thirteen. Mr. Emerson is, I\nthink, quite stationary: he is off the Railroad of Progress, and merely\nan elegant, kindly observer of all who pass onwards, and notes down\ntheir aspect while they remain in sight; of course, when they arrive at\na new station they are gone from and for him. I see Mr. John Sterling\ndedicates his new tragedy of \u201cStrafford\u201d to him: no very alarming honor!\nI suppose that Thomas Carlyle, with all his famous talking, does not yet\n_actually_ lead the people out of their troubles. These worthy and\nenlightened scribblers will do little to save the nation. Some there are\nI hope of more real solid metal....\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE OUTER KITCHEN\n]\n\nSamuel Bower has not yet had your note, as I am not sure where he is. He\ncould not, it seems, long endure Joseph Palmer\u2019s offer of land, etc., it\nwas so solitary. He called here when we were on our long journey on his\nway to Lowell, the Manchester of New England. If his aims are high and\nhis head clear, or his hands effective, he will not be able to wander\nfar from us; but a wanderer it is certain he must be allowed to be.\nAbraham [Abram Everett] comes and goes with some regard to the law\nwithin him; he is now busy with our latter hay, the maize, buckwheat,\netc.\n\nWhat is to be our destiny I can in no wise guess. Mr. Alcott makes such\nhigh requirements of all persons that few are likely to stay, even of\nhis own family, unless he can become more tolerant of defect. He is an\nartist in human character requiring every painter to be a Michael\nAngelo. He also does not wish to keep a hospital, nor even a school, but\nto be surrounded by Masters\u2014Masters of Art, of the one grand Art of\nhuman life. I suppose such a standard would soon empty your Concordium\nas well as every other house, which I suppose you call by insinuation\n\u201cDiscordiums,\u201d or, more elegantly, \u201cDiscordia.\u201d I propose to pass at\nleast another winter in New England to know more averagingly what they\nare, as the last was particularly severe. I have gone about on these\nseveral journeys in the simple tunic and linen garments and mean to keep\nthem on as long as I can. We have had a fine summer of three months, and\na fine autumn seems on hand. Sharp frost this morning, yet we took our\nbath as usual out-of-doors in the gray of the morn at one-half past\nfive. Health, the grand external condition, still attends me, every\nstranger rating me ten or twelve years younger than I am; so that if\nsuch are the effects of climate I may indeed be happy, for my\nyouthfulness is not all appearance\u2014I _feel_ as buoyant and as boyish as\nI look, which I find a capital endorsement to my assertions about diet,\netc. It staggers the sceptical and sets their selfish thoughts to\nwork....\n\nHoping that all minds are thus laboring, let us, my dear friend, act as\nif all good progress depended upon us and unfailingly present a clean\nbreast to Eternal Love, shedding forth our full measure in the clearest\nLight; in which I am\n\n Thine truly,\n CHAS. LANE.\n\nAbraham just notifies me there is work in the field, so I must go.\n\n * * * * *\n\nJoseph Palmer had offered his old house at No Town to Samuel Bower as a\nrefuge in which to test his theory of the benefits to be derived from\naccustoming the body to live without the enervating burden of clothing.\nBower\u2019s experiences in this line at Fruitlands had not been satisfactory\nor convincing, as it was only at night that he could make the\nexperiment, and then they insisted on his donning a white garment for\nhis peregrinations in the open. Even this caused agitation in the\nneighborhood, and tales of a white ghost wandering over the hillside\ncaused much alarm, and several times a posse went out from the village\nto look into the matter. At No Town he could be in solitude. While there\nhe wrote a number of articles for the _Liberator_, in one of which he\npredicted the full regeneration of man, \u201cif we can rid the kitchen of\nits horrors and keep our tables free from the mangled corse.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn another letter Lane writes to Oldham:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\n... At present I am situated thus. All the persons who have joined us\nduring the summer have from some cause or other quitted, they say in\nconsequence of Mr. Alcott\u2019s despotic manner, which he interprets as\ntheir not being equal to the Spirit\u2019s demands. Joseph Palmer, who has\ndone, and is doing our farmwork for love, still remains in the same\nrelation as he ever did.\n\nPalmer says that having once declared this land free we should never go\nback, at least until the work has been fairly tested. Under all this it\nshould be stated that Mrs. Alcott has no spontaneous inclination towards\na larger family than her own natural one, of spiritual ties she knows\nnothing, though to keep all together she does and would go through a\ngood deal of exterior and interior toil. I hoped I had done with\npecuniary affairs, but it seems I am not to be let off. The crops, I\nbelieve, will not discharge all the obligations they were expected to\nliquidate, and against going further into debt I am most determinately\nsettled.... You will perceive that I have, like yourself, a small peck\nof troubles; not quite heavy enough to drive me to a juncture with our\nfriends, the Shakers, but sufficiently so to put the thought into one\u2019s\nhead, as you perceive. In the midst of all these events and of William\u2019s\nillness, who is in bed eight or ten days with a sort of bilious fever, I\nam not without the consolatory hope that some measure of Spirit\nutilitary is bound up with our obscure doings.\n\n Yours most affectionately,\n CHARLES LANE.\n\nAt a late visit on foot to Roxbury, I found the numbers at Brook Farm\nconsiderably diminished. I don\u2019t know what they will say to my letter if\nthey see it in _The New Age_, but never mind.\n\n * * * * *\n\nFrom now on clashing of wills disturbed the serenity of Fruitlands.\nCharles Lane, despondent over the course of events and the sense of\nfailure, and seeing further financial complications in store for him,\nbegan seriously to consider the plan of life adopted by the Shakers\nwhose well-filled corn-bins and full-rigged haylofts bespoke a system\nwhich provided plenty for man and beast, and gave time for alternate\nwork and meditation. He began to talk of this to Mr. Alcott and urged\nhim toward a more monastic life, and then suggested that they should\njoin them. That he had great influence with Mr. Alcott is evident, and\nMrs. Alcott, who fully realized this, grew restless and then alarmed.\n\nIn writing to Oldham, Lane kept dwelling upon Mrs. Alcott. Once he\nwrote: \u201cMrs. Alcott has passed from the ladylike to the industrious\norder, but she has much inward experience to realize. Her pride is not\nyet eradicated and her peculiar maternal love blinds her to all\nelse\u2014whom does it not so blind for a season?\u201d[11]\n\nFootnote 11:\n\n Sanborn\u2019s _Bronson Alcott_.\n\nAnd he ascribes the failure of other persons to join the experiment\nlargely to Mrs. Alcott, \u201cwho vows that her own family are all that she\nlives for.\u201d No such narrow purpose, Lane adds, has inspired him; and he\nblames Mr. Alcott for listening too much to his family affections, and\nregarding too much what that guardian angel of middle-class England,\nMrs. Grundy, will say.\n\nIn speaking of Mr. Alcott, he complains that \u201cconstancy to his wife and\ninconstancy to the Spirit have blurred over his life forever.\u201d\n\nPoor Mrs. Alcott, poor \u201cMarmee,\u201d as her daughters called her!\u2014in her\nloyalty she had almost worked her fingers to the bone with no thanks for\nit. Her days had passed without any help to lighten the manual labor. At\nfirst they said that not a lamp could lighten Fruitlands because the oil\ncontained animal fat, and only bayberry candles could be used, and only\na few of them. But Mrs. Alcott then rebelled. How could she sew and mend\nthe clothes with such poor light? There seemed some sense in this, so\none small lamp was brought to Fruitlands just for her. The philosophers\ntried sitting in the dark, but one by one would try to find some pretext\nto join her at the sewing-table, and Mrs. Alcott\u2019s lamp burned bright\nand steady, an emblem of her own true and faithful heart.\n\nEllery Channing said: \u201cMrs. Alcott was one of the most refined persons\nof my acquaintance. She told me years afterwards that in 1843\u201344 she\nfeared for her husband\u2019s sanity; he did such strange things without\nseeming to know how odd they were; wearing only linen clothes and canvas\nshoes, and eating only vegetables.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nNovember 26, 1843, Lane wrote to Oldham from Fruitlands:\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat with agitations of mind and ills of body, I have passed a less\nhappy time than usual. William was ill a whole month with a low fever so\nthat he could not even sit up in bed for one minute. I had to nurse him\nwhile plagued with hands so chapped and sore that I was little more\ncapable than the patient. Then came Mr. [Samuel J.] May\u2019s announcement\nthat he should not pay the note to which he had put his hand; so that\nmoney affairs and individual property come back again upon me for a\nseason. Thereupon ensued endless discussions, doubts, and anticipations\nconcerning our destiny. These still hang over us. But in the midst of\nthem Mrs. Alcott gives notice that she concedes to the wishes of her\nfriends and shall withdraw to a house which they will provide for\nherself and her four children. As she will take all the furniture with\nher, this proceeding necessarily leaves me alone and naked in a new\nworld. Of course Mr. A. and I could not remain together without her. To\nbe \u2018that devil come from Old England to separate husband and wife,\u2019 I\nwill not be, though it might gratify New England to be able to say it.\nSo that you will perceive a separation is possible. Indeed, I believe\nthat under the circumstances it is now inevitable.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nMr. Sanborn says in his \u201cMemoirs of Bronson Alcott\u201d:\u2014\n\n\u201cThose who read Louisa\u2019s \u2018Transcendental Wild Oats\u2019 will see by her\nnames \u2018Timon Lion\u2019 for Lane, and \u2018Abel Lamb\u2019 for Alcott, that she looked\non her father as rather the victim of Lane in the \u2018Fruitlands\u2019 failure.\nWithout conceding this, the impartial observer will say that Lane had\nthe stronger will, and the far more prosaic nature; that he decided most\nof the questions for his associates in both countries, and that he was\nrather a hard person to get on with. Neither his first wife, nor Wright,\nnor Mrs. Alcott, nor Alcott himself, nor the Harvard Shakers, nor\nfinally Oldham, could quite suit him. He over-persuaded Alcott, who was\na good farmer and mechanic, to adopt impossible modes of working the\n\u2018Fruitlands\u2019 farm, and much of their whimsies in dress and food seem to\nhave come from Lane and his English friends. Mrs. Alcott, when\nre\u00ebstablished in a home of her own at Concord, early in 1845, offered\nLane a home there, and he tried it for a time in the next summer, but\nstill complained, as he had at \u2018Fruitlands,\u2019 that she wished to keep her\nfamily small, and made it uncomfortable for guests. Knowing Mrs.\nAlcott\u2019s character well, in the last twenty years of her life, I cannot\nbelieve that this was ever true of her. She was hospitality itself,\nwhether poor or rich; and it must have been Lane\u2019s own individualism\nthat made him dissatisfied.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n CHARLES LANE\u2019S ROOM\n\n The old cowhide trunk, in which some of the most valuable of the books\n were shipped from London; also the old chest in which the linen was\n kept. The spinning-wheel belonged to a former owner.\n]\n\n\u201cThe rigors of a New England winter promoted the dissolution of the\n\u2018Fruitlands\u2019 Community, but did not alone break it up. A lack of\norganizing power to control the steady current of selfishness, as well\nas the unselfish vagaries of his followers, was the real cause. Nothing\nin fact could be more miserable than the failure of this hopeful\nexperiment.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nMr. Alcott had written in his diary of Emerson:\u2014\u201cIt is much to have the\nvision of the seeing eye. Did most men possess this, the useful hand\nwould be empowered with new dexterity also. Emerson sees me, knows me,\nand more than all others helps me,\u2014not by noisy praise, not by low\nappeals to interest and passion, but by turning the eye of others to my\nstand in reason and the nature of things. Only men of like vision can\napprehend and counsel each other. A man whose purpose and act demand but\na day or an hour for their completion can do little by way of advising\nhim whose purposes require years for their fulfilment. Only Emerson, of\nthis age, knows me, of all that I have found. Well, every one does not\nfind _one_ man, one _very man through and through_. Many are they who\nlive and die alone, known only to their survivors of an after-century.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nHow he recalled that now! He was tossed in mind and troubled beyond\nmeasure. All his beautiful dreams were melting away one by one.\nEverything seemed to be falling from his grasp. Most of the crops had\nfailed;\u2014the enthusiastic lovers of \u201cThe Newness\u201d had proved themselves\nfalse and had slipped away as the cold weather approached. All his\nwonderful plans had come to naught. He had promised to the world the\nvision of a new Eden: he had believed it could exist: he had worked for\nit with his whole soul: he had nothing to show for it but failure. Would\nhis friend Emerson stay by him in his anguish? He believed he would, and\nyet how meet his friend? How face the world?\n\nThe cold penetrated the old house. William Lane lay ill in his room and\nhis father watched over him. All were heavy-hearted. It was as late as\nJanuary that Charles Lane and his son moved to the Shakers. After that\nMr. Alcott retired to his room, as he thought, to face the end. Mr.\nSanborn tells us: \u201cThe final expulsion from this Paradise nearly cost\nMr. Alcott his life. He retired to his chamber, refused food, and was on\nthe point of dying from grief and abstinence, when his wife prevailed on\nhim to continue longer in this ungrateful world.\u201d\n\nThis prayer was written in his diary after leaving Fruitlands: \u201cLight, O\nsource of light! give Thou unto thy servant, sitting in the perplexities\nof this surrounding darkness. Hold Thou him steady to Thee, to truth,\nand to himself; and in Thine own due time give him clearly to the work\nfor which Thou art thus slowly preparing him, proving his faith\nmeanwhile in Thyself and in his kind.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201cShall I say with Pestalozzi that I was not made by this world, nor for\nit,\u2014wherefore am I placed in it if I was found unfit? And the world that\nfound him thus asked not whether it was his fault or that of another;\nbut it bruised him with an iron hammer, as the bricklayer breaks an old\nbrick to fill up a crevice.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n\u201cThat is failure when a man\u2019s idea ruins him, when he is dwarfed and\nkilled by it; but when he is ever growing by it, ever true to it, and\ndoes not lose it by any partial or immediate failures,\u2014that is success,\nwhatever it seems to the world.\u201d\n\nIn speaking of the Fruitlands experiment Mr. Sanborn says:\u2014\n\n\u201cIt brought its own compensations, and left the whole Alcott family\nricher and not poorer for this romantic experience with its sad\ntermination. It prepared Alcott to face more patiently the storms of\nlater life, and to train his daughter, who was his best single gift to\nthe world, better for her conspicuous service. And \u2018Fruitlands\u2019 will be\nremembered, perhaps longer than most of the adventures that awaited this\nromantic household in its voyage of life....\n\n\u201cThere was some foundation for Alcott\u2019s despair at \u2018Fruitlands,\u2019 and\nwith the ill success that followed him after the flourishing Temple\nSchool in Boston. Emerson, the gentlest and least exacting of men,\nlooking at his friend\u2019s situation a few years after the \u2018Fruitlands\u2019\nexperiment, wrote in his private journal\u2014\n\n[Illustration:\n\n THE BEDROOM\n\n Where Mr. Alcott nearly succumbed to his despair at the failure of his\n \u201cNew Eden\u201d\n]\n\n\u201c\u2018The plight of Mr. Alcott! The most refined and the most advanced soul\nwe have had in New England; who makes all other souls appear slow and\ncheap and mechanical; a man of such courtesy and greatness that in\nconversation all others, even the intellectual, seem sharp, and fighting\nfor victory and angry,\u2014while he has the unalterable sweetness of a muse!\nYet because he cannot earn money by his talk or his pen, or by\nschool-keeping, or bookkeeping, or editing, or any kind of\nmeanness,\u2014nay, for this very cause that he is ahead of his\ncontemporaries, is higher than they, and keeps himself out of the shop\ncondescensions and arts which they stoop to,\u2014or, unhappily, need not\nstoop to, but find themselves, as it were, born to; therefore it is the\nunanimous opinion of New England judges that this man must die! We do\nnot adjudge him to hemlock or garroting,\u2014we are much too hypocritical\nand cowardly for that. But we not less surely doom him by refusing to\nprotest against this doom, or combine to save him, and to set him in\nemployments fit for him and salutary for the State.\u2019\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe poem written by Mr. Alcott, with the title \u201cThe Return,\u201d may\nfittingly close this chapter:\u2014\n\n \u201cAs from himself he fled\n Outcast, insane,\n Tormenting demons drove him from the gate:\n Away he sped,\n Casting his joys behind,\n His better mind:\n Recovered,\n Himself again,\n Over his threshold led,\n Peace fills his breast,\n He finds rest,\n Expecting angels his arrival wait.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n X\n\n IN AFTER YEARS\n\n\nMore than thirty years after the Fruitlands failure, Mrs. Caroline\nSherman, of Chicago, heard from Mr. Alcott its story as he came to view\nit in later years. She says:\u2014\n\n\u201cOne day at Concord Mr. Alcott consented to give his experience at\nFruitlands, and for two hours he entertained the little company with the\nhappiest of humor, as he told the story of his effort to realize an\nideal community. Together with Charles Lane, he purchased a location on\nthe north side of a sandy hill in Harvard, and started out with the idea\nof welcoming hospitably to their community any human being who sought\nadmission. Mr. Alcott described the various sorts of quaint characters\nwho came to live with them, lured by the charms of Utopia and Arcadia\ncombined. Only a vegetable diet was allowed; for the rights of animals\nto life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness formed a fundamental\nprinciple in their constitution. This not only cut them off from beef,\nbut from milk and eggs. The milk belonged to the calf, and the chicken\nhad a right to its existence as well as the infant. Even the\ncanker-worms that infested the apple trees were not to be molested. They\nhad as much right to the apples as man had. Unfortunately farm\noperations were not started until well into June, and the only crop\nraised that was of value as dependence was barley; but the philosophers\ndid not flinch at the thought of an exclusively barley diet. Now and\nthen they gave a thought as to what they should do for shoes when those\nthey now had were gone; for depriving the cow of her skin was a crime\nnot to be tolerated. The barley crop was injured in harvesting, and\nbefore long actual want was staring them in the face. This burden fell\nheaviest upon Mrs. Alcott, for, as housewife, it was her duty to prepare\nthree meals a day. They remained at Fruitlands till mid-winter in dire\npoverty, all the guests having taken their departure as provisions\nvanished. Friends came to the rescue, and, concluded Mr. Alcott, with a\ntone of pathos in his voice: \u2018We put our four little women on an\nox-sled,[12] and made our way to Concord. So faded one of the dreams of\nmy youth. I have given you the facts as they were; Louisa has given the\ncomic side in \u201cTranscendental Wild Oats\u201d; but Mrs. Alcott could give you\nthe tragic side.\u2019\u201d\n\nFootnote 12:\n\n As a matter of fact they did not go to Concord on the ox-sled, but to\n Still River, where they lived for a year in the house called the\n \u201cBrick Ends,\u201d belonging to the Lovejoy family. They then moved to\n Concord where Orchard House now stands as a memorial to the later\n years.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe odes addressed to Alcott by Thoreau and Lowell should be recalled in\nconnection with these reminiscences of his later years:\u2014\n\n\n THE HILLSIDE HOUSE\n\n BY HENRY DAVID THOREAU\n\n Here Alcott thought,\u2014respect a wise man\u2019s door!\n No kinder heart a mortal form e\u2019er held;\n Its easy hinges ope forevermore\n At touch of all,\u2014or fervid Youth or Eld.\n\n A mounting sage was he, and could essay\n Bold flights of hope, that softly fed his tongue\n With honey; then flew swift that happy day,\n As tranced in joy on his pure themes we hung.\n\n He knew the Scholar\u2019s art; with insight spent\n On Plato\u2019s sentence, that best poesy,\n And calm philosophy, his soul intent\n Cleared the grey film of Earth and Air and Sea.\n\n He might have lapsed,\u2014but Heaven him held along,\u2014\n Or splendrous faded like some sunset dream;\n But long shall live! though this bare, humble song\n Gains not his dignity,\u2014nor rounds its theme.\n\n He\u2019ll dwell (doubt not) in that fond, wished-for Land,\n Where the broad Concave\u2019s stars unquailing bloom;\n The guest of angels, that consolers stand,\u2014\n Sweetly forgot in light Earth\u2019s lowly tomb.\n\n Then may I wait, dear Alcott, of thy court,\n Or bear a mace in thy Platonic reign!\n Though sweet Philosophy be not my forte,\n Nor Mincio\u2019s reed, nor Learning\u2019s weary gain.\n\n\n ODE TO ALCOTT[13]\n\n BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL\n\n Hear him but speak, and you will feel\n The shadows of the Portico\n Over your tranquil spirit steal,\n To modulate all joy and woe\n To one subdued, subduing glow;\n Above our squabbling business hours,\n Like Phidian Jove\u2019s, his beauty lowers,\n His nature satirizes ours;\n A form and front of Attic grace,\n He shames the higgling market-place,\n And dwarfs our more mechanic powers.\n\n What throbbing verse can fitly render\n That face so pure, so trembling-tender?\n Sensation glimmers through its rest,\n It speaks unmanacled by words,\n As full of motion as a nest\n That palpitates with unfledged birds;\n \u2018Tis likest to Bethesda\u2019s stream,\n Forewarned through all its thrilling springs,\n White with the angel\u2019s coming gleam,\n And rippled with his fanning wings.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Himself unshaken as the sky,\n His words, like whirlwinds, spin on high\n Systems and creeds pellmell together;\n \u2018Tis strange as to a deaf man\u2019s eye,\n While trees uprooted splinter by,\n The dumb turmoil of stormy weather;\n Less of iconoclast than shaper,\n His spirit, safe behind the reach\n Of the tornado of his speech,\n Burns calmly as a glowworm\u2019s taper.\n\nFootnote 13:\n\n From \u201cStudies for Two Heads.\u201d\n\nAs Mr. Alcott suffered acutely from the disastrous ending of the\nFruitlands Community, so also did Charles Lane. The cherished ideal of\nthe regeneration of the world by a vivid example was shattered beyond\nrepair. Saddened and disillusioned he returned to Alcott House in\nEngland.\n\nIn writing to Thoreau from London, in 1848, Emerson gives a description\nof him. He says: \u201cI went last Sunday for the first time to see Lane at\nHam, and dined with him. He was full of friendliness and hospitality;\nhas a school of sixteen children, one lady as matron, then Oldham. This\nis all the household. They looked just comfortable.\u201d The matron here\nspoken of was undoubtedly a Miss Hannah Bond, who had lived at Owen\u2019s\nCommunity at Harmony Hall, and in due time Lane cast aside his\nantagonism to family ties and married her. But from his letters to\nJoseph Palmer, it is evident that his experience in life never allowed\nhim freedom from questions of money and property. He had sunk his all in\nthe experiment at Fruitlands, as \u201can offering to the Eternal Spirit.\u201d\nOne feels a note of bitterness in him from a letter written by Wright to\nOldham in which he says: \u201cI have been told that Mr. Lane says Alcott is\nan unpractical dreamer, or something tantamount thereto. Alas! how far\nshall we have to go to find those who will deliver the same opinion of\nC. L. [Charles Lane] and W. O. [William Oldham] and others whom I could\nmention! Sometimes I almost suspect that of myself. The world has\ndecided pretty truly. I begin to respect its decision and to suspect my\nown.\u201d\n\nAnd from the following paragraph the pain and disheartenment of a\ndisappointed life shows itself with infinite pathos, as Wright says:\n\u201cSomehow or other I seem to have made up my mind that it is for me to\ndie, to which I look forward with hope rather than terror.\u201d \u201cWhat have I\never done?\u201d he asks, and responds bitterly, \u201cNothing, absolutely\nnothing! I have dreamed only of great deeds. Let me never attempt again\nwhat is beyond my being\u2019s power.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\nFruitlands was left in the hands of Joseph Palmer, who bought it of\nCharles Lane. The latter, fully aware of the shrewd common sense that\nlurked beneath an eccentric exterior, urged Joseph Palmer to join him in\nfounding a larger Community, connecting a farm in Leominster with that\nof Fruitlands as a plant on which to work out a scheme that would\npromise some measure of success. They drew up the following paper and it\nwas duly signed and sealed:\u2014\n\n * * * * *\n\nWhereas it is desireable to form Associations of well disposed persons\nfor the supply of their physical and mental requirements, for the\nsupport of a free school for youth, and a home for the aged, destitute\nand indigent, and Whereas a capital of one hundred dollars for each\nassociate is deemed sufficient for beginning such an Association, We,\nthe undersigned do agree to the purchase of estates in Leominster and\nHarvard, Massachusetts, for the purpose of forming such an Association\nwhich we propose to commence on the first of January next, to the amount\nof five thousand dollars capital, afterwards to be extended by the\naddition of new shares for the purchase of more real estate at the\ndiscretion of the shareholders assembled on the first Monday in January\nin each year, so that all persons interested shall hold equal rights by\npossessing one share only. The property now in hand for this purpose\nconsists of Land and Buildings in Leominster and Harvard, together about\n190 acres with Stock, Tools, Provisions, etc., needful for carrying out\nthe said design held in the name of Joseph Palmer.\n\n JOSEPH PALMER.\n CHARLES LANE.\n\nAugust 18, 1846.\n\nBut this same shrewd common sense evidently stood in the way of bringing\nthis plan into actual existence, for Charles Lane writes a letter\ncomplaining that so much time has been wasted in considering it that he\ncan no longer remain in America, and he sails for England leaving his\nson William with the Shakers. It is a noticeable proof of the confidence\nthe members of the Community placed in Joseph Palmer that not only\nCharles Lane wanted him as an associate, but also Samuel Bower, who\nurged him to join him in founding a Community in a more temperate\nclimate where he could carry out his convictions regarding the casting\naside of all outer clothing. But Palmer had seen enough of the\nTranscendentalists to make him realize the advantages of running his own\nCommunity, which he did for upwards of twenty years in a strange,\nhaphazard sort of fashion. He had no name for it, and he never sought\nrecruits, but he never closed his door to the wayfarer, and two large\niron pots, one full of baked beans, and the other full of potatoes,\nstood always ready for the poor and hungry. And so in a humble way,\nJoseph and Nancy Palmer carried out some of the ideals started at\nFruitlands by the Transcendentalists. Calvin Warner lived there off and\non for many years, and old Widow Webber sought refuge there, and many\ncame and went. The Harvard people called it a home for tramps and called\nhim \u201cOld Jew Palmer\u201d; but any one who takes the trouble to look closely\ninto his life finds in him a stalwart character full of fibre and\nunswerving courage, with a very real and abiding religious faith.\n\nHe was a fighter for his rights, to the end. The right of way belonging\nto Fruitlands crossed old Silas Dudley\u2019s land to the highway. A\ncontinuous battle raged concerning that right of way, and so fierce did\nit become that when after a heavy snowstorm Joseph Palmer started to\nshovel the snow off of it, old Silas Dudley shovelled it back again.\nThey kept at it there all day, both irate old men holding out with a\ngrim determination to win. As neither succeeded in gaining advantage,\nthey sent for Mr. Emerson to come and settle the question, which he did.\n\nQuaint old times, quaint old people,\u2014we are grateful for just such\npictures of the past!\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe following letters were found by a grandson of Joseph Palmer among\nsome old papers at Fruitlands.\n\n NEW YORK, Sept. 10, 1846.\n\n_To Joseph Palmer_,\n _Still River_,\n _Harvard, Mass._\n\nDEAR FRIEND:\u2014\n\nI owe you a severe scolding, and as I always endeavor to pay my debts,\nhere goes. You detained me so long that my school is broken up, the\nweeds are shoulder high at the door, and my utility in this direction is\nat an end. Hereafter do not be so dilatory. The good you desire to do\nwill forever escape undone if you are so very, very, very cautious. Yet\nI am not for haste or for a magnificent work. But having really made\nyour decision and concluded your plan, carry it out faithfully and\nconfidingly on such a scale as you know you can stand by.\n\nI read the Prospectus to several, and none objected. If your Leominster\nfriends have any truth in them, now it will be known. I have written to\nD. Mack, and have tried to interest some others, and I really think if\nyou could keep me in New England the next winter, the foundation of a\nrational, soulful, simple Association might be laid. If you had not kept\nme so long, this might have been possible, but now it seems to be my\ndestiny to obey the manifold and unceasing calls of the Spirit through\nWilliam Oldham, and return to Alcott House, where your letters will find\nme, and I hope you will take time to write me all interesting\nparticulars. Perhaps I may work better on that side. At all events, I\ncan assure you I shall continue to take as deep, as active, and as\ndirect an interest in the Leominster and Harvard Association as if I\nwere present. Now that matters are arranged a little more suitably to my\nnature, I shall work for it with greater freedom and potency. We should\nhelp all men out of their false positions, whatever they are, as fast as\nwe can.\n\nPlease do not fail to see Edmund Hosmer, and commune freely with friend\nEmerson. Give my kind remembrances to your wife and daughter, to Mr.\nHolman, to Thomas and his wife, to Calvin, and all the faithful hearts\nin your circle. I shall endeavor to write a little history of\nFruitlands, past and future, so pray supply me with all the facts as\nthey arise. I hope there will be plenty of good names to put in my book.\n\nI have faith that I shall see you again, but when I cannot guess. Before\nthat time I trust a faithful band will be congregated. I do not care how\nfew, if they be but good and true. Have your son and daughter signed the\nProspectus? Mack may come next to make the casting vote, or some other\none on whom you could rely.\n\nI _know_ that you and I, S. Ford, and your daughter could carry the\ndesign through, if we should have the happiness to be thrown together.\nGod knows and disposes, and blesses all the earnest, in which company\nmay you ever be found with\n\n Your resigned brother,\n CHARLES LANE.\n\nYou have given William his letter, I suppose. See him as often and cheer\nhim as much as you can.\n\nPlenty of people from Brook Farm in consequence of the changes there\nwould be glad to come. The industrials are all obliged to leave. They\napply to the N. A. Phalanx, but there is no room for them. Let your plan\nbe known and the house may be filled.\n\nI believe I shall sail in the Diadem for Liverpool in a day or two.\n\n * * * * *\n\nAT MR. MOORE\u2019S, KNOWLES PLACE, DAVIDSON STREET, EAST MERRIMACK STREET,\n LOWELL, NOV. 6, 1849.\n\nFRIEND PALMER,\u2014\n\nHaving removed to reside in Lowell it may be well to inform you of the\nchange. Perhaps you sometimes come so far in this direction\u2014if so it\nwould be cause of regret to me not to see you. Now, of course, I _shall_\nsee you if you visit L. whilst I locate in it.\n\nSince conversing with you I have meditated much on the great step in\nprogress which I am incessantly reminded it is my interest and duty to\nmake. But how make it? When? Where? and with whom? or, whether alone? On\nthis subject so important to me, to you and to society, I have many new\nfacts and estimates of facts all tending to induce, I trust, early and\nbeneficial action. How far you might be disposed to coincide with me I\nknow not, nor how far your long experience might modify my intentions if\ncommunicated. I should certainly like to confer with you at length and\nwithout reservation. For such a purpose writing is quite inadequate, so\nI shall not attempt any statement of my views, etc., herein. One thing,\nhowever, I may say, which is that I am fully and I believe finally fixed\nin the conviction that no Association of persons can be brought to\ninhabit Fruitlands or your place at Leominster founding itself on those\nbases and conditions which six years ago were so frequently discussed by\nus. Be sure C. Lane can send you nobody from England, and I am unaware\nthat there is in this country any one Realist enough to _proceed with\nthe natural economies far enough to satisfy your just expectations_.\n\nI shall most assuredly, if the Infinite Spirit wills, make my home in\nthe open heavens and resume the right so long in abeyance of being\nnaturally and therefore well and sufficiently clothed. The true question\nis a proper Individualism and nothing that is good and desirable in\nSocialism can come but after this. This is universally and ethically\nincontrovertible and physically the solution waits our action. You have\nlong stood on the threshold and best know whether you are prepared now\nto pass over it and give up your localized and civilized life. I think I\nam quite clear that it will be necessary to stand within circumstances\nhaving less pressure. Suitable natural conditions are indispensable and\nare to be provided at whatever cost of relinquishment of current\nenjoyments.\n\n Yours faithfully,\n SAML. BOWER.\n\n * * * * *\n\n London, Sept. 29, 1849.\n\n_To Joseph Palmer_,\n _Still River_,\n _Harvard, Mass._\n\nDEAR FRIEND PALMER:\u2014\n\nIf there was a possibility of sending me here only six or seven acres of\nour old Fruitlands, you should hear no more of me as a claimant.\n\nAs this cannot be, and I am once more adrift in consequence of the lease\nof our house and grounds having been sold, I hope you will have\nprosperity enough in the culture to release yourself gradually from my\nencumbrance whereby I may be enabled just to pay the rent on an acre or\ntwo to cultivate with my own hands.\n\nDo not let me ask in vain for a good long letter narrating all your\nlocal news since I left your hill regions. Mr. Emerson will inform you\nof William\u2019s movements and convey any letters or messages to me. I\nsuppose Dr. Thomas has made a pretty handsome fortune by this time in\nsetting people\u2019s mouths in tune and that he will retire to Fruitlands to\nmake sure of it.\n\n Yours faithfully,\n CHARLES LANE.\n\n * * * * *\n\n LONDON, Sept. 16, 1851.\n\n_To Dr. Thomas Palmer_,\n _Fitchburg, Mass._\n\nDEAR FRIEND:\u2014\n\nAs I am not so certain of reaching your father through the post-office\nas you, I enclose this note to say that I should feel obliged if you\nwould have the goodness to discharge my claim. Some two or three years\nhave passed since I thought I should no more trouble Mr. Emerson on the\nsubject, which is one among the reasons for urging a settlement. Your\nbusiness I am sure has been too successful to make it needful to go out\nof the family for the cash, or at all events for much of it. The farm\nhas been prosperous, and though your father does not aim at commercial\nprofits, yet his industry and integrity bring them to him. I feel it is\nbut as yesterday I and your father went from Harvard to Fitchburg with\nthe cattle. Oh, how hot! I am differently employed now, but I still\ndesire the field and the garden. If I had such a spot here as Fruitlands\nI should not quit it, but enjoy a life fruitful in all good. Pray, in\nthis matter of the mortgage attend to the request and give my best\nregards to your father, from whom I should much like to have a letter.\n\n Yours truly,\n CHARLES LANE.\n\n\n\n\n XI\n\n TRANSCENDENTAL WILD OATS\n\n\n BY\n\n LOUISA MAY ALCOTT\n\n\n ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF TRANSCENDENTAL WILD OATS\n\n TIMON LION _Charles Lane._\n HIS SON _William Lane._\n ABEL LAMB _A. Bronson Alcott._\n SISTER HOPE _Mrs. Alcott._\n HER DAUGHTERS _The Alcott girls._\n JOHN PEASE _Samuel Bower._\n FOREST ABSALOM _Abram Everett._\n MOSES WHITE _Joseph Palmer._\n JANE GAGE _Anna Page._\n\n\n A CHAPTER FROM AN UNWRITTEN ROMANCE\n\nOn the first day of June, 184-, a large wagon, drawn by a small horse\nand containing a motley load, went lumbering over certain New England\nhills, with the pleasing accompaniments of wind, rain, and hail. A\nserene man with a serene child upon his knee was driving, or rather\nbeing driven, for the small horse had it all his own way. A brown boy\nwith a William Penn style of countenance sat beside him, firmly\nembracing a bust of Socrates. Behind them was an energetic-looking\nwoman, with a benevolent brow, satirical mouth, and eyes brimful of hope\nand courage. A baby reposed upon her lap, a mirror leaned against her\nknee, and a basket of provisions danced about at her feet, as she\nstruggled with a large, unruly umbrella. Two blue-eyed little girls,\nwith hands full of childish treasures, sat under one old shawl, chatting\nhappily together.\n\nIn front of this lively party stalked a tall, sharp-featured man, in a\nlong blue cloak; and a fourth small girl trudged along beside him\nthrough the mud as if she rather enjoyed it.\n\nThe wind whistled over the bleak hills; the rain fell in a despondent\ndrizzle, and twilight began to fall. But the calm man gazed as\ntranquilly into the fog as if he beheld a radiant bow of promise\nspanning the gray sky. The cheery woman tried to cover every one but\nherself with the big umbrella. The brown boy pillowed his head on the\nbald pate of Socrates and slumbered peacefully. The little girls sang\nlullabies to their dolls in soft, maternal murmurs. The sharp-nosed\npedestrian marched steadily on, with the blue cloak streaming out behind\nhim like a banner; and the lively infant splashed through the puddles\nwith a ducklike satisfaction pleasant to behold.\n\nThus these modern pilgrims journeyed hopefully out of the old world, to\nfound a new one in the wilderness.\n\nThe editors of _The Transcendental Tripod_ had received from Messrs.\nLion & Lamb (two of the aforesaid pilgrims) a communication from which\nthe following statement is an extract:\u2014\n\n\u201cWe have made arrangements with the proprietor of an estate of about a\nhundred acres which liberates this tract from human ownership. Here we\nshall prosecute our effort to initiate a Family in harmony with the\nprimitive instincts of man.\n\n\u201cOrdinary secular farming is not our object. Fruit, grain, pulse, herbs,\nflax, and other vegetable products, receiving assiduous attention, will\nafford ample manual occupation, and chaste supplies for the bodily\nneeds. It is intended to adorn the pastures with orchards, and to\nsupersede the labor of cattle by the spade and the pruning-knife.\n\n\u201cConsecrated to human freedom, the land awaits the sober culture of\ndevoted men. Beginning with small pecuniary means, this enterprise must\nbe rooted in a reliance on the succors of an ever-bounteous Providence,\nwhose vital affinities being secured by this union with uncorrupted\nfield and unworldly persons, the cares and injuries of a life of gain\nare avoided.\n\n\u201cThe inner nature of each member of the Family is at no time neglected.\nOur plan contemplates all such disciplines, cultures, and habits as\nevidently conduce to the purifying of the inmates.\n\n\u201cPledged to the spirit alone, the founders anticipate no hasty or\nnumerous addition to their numbers. The kingdom of peace is entered only\nthrough the gates of self-denial; and felicity is the test and the\nreward of loyalty to the unswerving law of Love.\u201d\n\nThis prospective Eden at present consisted of an old red farmhouse, a\ndilapidated barn, many acres of meadow-land, and a grove. Ten ancient\napple-trees were all the \u201cchaste supply\u201d which the place offered as yet;\nbut, in the firm belief that plenteous orchards were soon to be evoked\nfrom their inner consciousness, these sanguine founders had christened\ntheir domain Fruitlands.\n\nHere Timon Lion intended to found a colony of Latter Day Saints, who,\nunder his patriarchal sway, should regenerate the world and glorify his\nname for ever. Here Abel Lamb, with the devoutest faith in the high\nideal which was to him a living truth, desired to plant a Paradise,\nwhere Beauty, Virtue, Justice, and Love might live happily together,\nwithout the possibility of a serpent entering in. And here his wife,\nunconverted but faithful to the end, hoped, after many wanderings over\nthe face of the earth, to find rest for herself and a home for her\nchildren.\n\n\u201cThere is our new abode,\u201d announced the enthusiast, smiling with a\nsatisfaction quite undamped by the drops dripping from his hat-brim, as\nthey turned at length into a cart-path that wound along a steep hillside\ninto a barren-looking valley.\n\n\u201cA little difficult of access,\u201d observed his practical wife, as she\nendeavored to keep her various household gods from going overboard with\nevery lurch of the laden ark.\n\n\u201cLike all good things. But those who earnestly desire and patiently seek\nwill soon find us,\u201d placidly responded the philosopher from the mud,\nthrough which he was now endeavoring to pilot the much-enduring horse.\n\n\u201cTruth lies at the bottom of a well, Sister Hope,\u201d said Brother Timon,\npausing to detach his small comrade from a gate, whereon she was perched\nfor a clearer gaze into futurity.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s the reason we so seldom get at it, I suppose,\u201d replied Mrs.\nHope, making a vain clutch at the mirror, which a sudden jolt sent\nflying out of her hands.\n\n\u201cWe want no false reflections here,\u201d said Timon, with a grim smile, as\nhe crunched the fragments under foot in his onward march.\n\nSister Hope held her peace, and looked wistfully through the mist at her\npromised home. The old red house with a hospitable glimmer at its\nwindows cheered her eyes; and, considering the weather, was a fitter\nrefuge than the sylvan bowers some of the more ardent souls might have\npreferred.\n\nThe new-comers were welcomed by one of the elect precious,\u2014a regenerate\nfarmer, whose idea of reform consisted chiefly in wearing white cotton\nraiment and shoes of untanned leather. This costume, with a snowy beard,\ngave him a venerable, and at the same time a somewhat bridal appearance.\n\nThe goods and chattels of the Society not having arrived, the weary\nfamily reposed before the fire on blocks of wood, while Brother Moses\nWhite regaled them with roasted potatoes, brown bread and water, in two\nplates, a tin pan, and one mug; his table service being limited. But,\nhaving cast the forms and vanities of a depraved world behind them, the\nelders welcomed hardship with the enthusiasm of new pioneers, and the\nchildren heartily enjoyed this foretaste of what they believed was to be\na sort of perpetual picnic.\n\nDuring the progress of this frugal meal, two more brothers appeared. One\na dark, melancholy man, clad in homespun, whose peculiar mission was to\nturn his name hind part before and use as few words as possible. The\nother was a bland, bearded Englishman, who expected to be saved by\neating uncooked food and going without clothes. He had not yet adopted\nthe primitive costume, however; but contented himself with meditatively\nchewing dry beans out of a basket.\n\n\u201cEvery meal should be a sacrament, and the vessels used should be\nbeautiful and symbolical,\u201d observed Brother Lamb, mildly, righting the\ntin pan slipping about on his knees. \u201cI priced a silver service when in\ntown, but it was too costly; so I got some graceful cups and vases of\nBritannia ware.\u201d\n\n\u201cHardest things in the world to keep bright. Will whiting be allowed in\nthe community?\u201d inquired Sister Hope, with a housewife\u2019s interest in\nlabor-saving institutions.\n\n\u201cSuch trivial questions will be discussed at a more fitting time,\u201d\nanswered Brother Timon, sharply, as he burnt his fingers with a very hot\npotato. \u201cNeither sugar, molasses, milk, butter, cheese, nor flesh are to\nbe used among us, for nothing is to be admitted which has caused wrong\nor death to man or beast.\u201d\n\n\u201cOur garments are to be linen till we learn to raise our own cotton or\nsome substitute for woollen fabrics,\u201d added Brother Abel, blissfully\nbasking in an imaginary future as warm and brilliant as the generous\nfire before him.\n\n\u201cHaou abaout shoes?\u201d asked Brother Moses, surveying his own with\ninterest.\n\n\u201cWe must yield that point till we can manufacture an innocent substitute\nfor leather. Bark, wood, or some durable fabric will be invented in\ntime. Meanwhile, those who desire to carry out our idea to the fullest\nextent can go barefooted,\u201d said Lion, who liked extreme measures.\n\n\u201cI never will, nor let my girls,\u201d murmured rebellious Sister Hope, under\nher breath.\n\n\u201cHaou do you cattle\u2019ate to treat the ten-acre lot? Ef things ain\u2019t\n\u2018tended to right smart, we shan\u2019t hev no crops,\u201d observed the practical\npatriarch in cotton.\n\n\u201cWe shall spade it,\u201d replied Abel, in such perfect good faith that Moses\nsaid no more, though he indulged in a shake of the head as he glanced at\nhands that had held nothing heavier than a pen for years. He was a\npaternal old soul and regarded the younger men as promising boys on a\nnew sort of lark.\n\n\u201cWhat shall we do for lamps, if we cannot use any animal substance? I do\nhope light of some sort is to be thrown upon the enterprise,\u201d said Mrs.\nLamb, with anxiety, for in those days kerosene and camphene were not,\nand gas unknown in the wilderness.\n\n\u201cWe shall go without till we have discovered some vegetable oil or wax\nto serve us,\u201d replied Brother Timon, in a decided tone, which caused\nSister Hope to resolve that her private lamp should be always trimmed,\nif not burning.\n\n\u201cEach member is to perform the work for which experience, strength, and\ntaste best fit him,\u201d continued Dictator Lion. \u201cThus drudgery and\ndisorder will be avoided and harmony prevail. We shall rise at dawn,\nbegin the day by bathing, followed by music, and then a chaste repast of\nfruit and bread. Each one finds congenial occupation till the meridian\nmeal; when some deep-searching conversation gives rest to the body and\ndevelopment to the mind. Healthful labor again engages us till the last\nmeal, when we assemble in social communion, prolonged till sunset, when\nwe retire to sweet repose, ready for the next day\u2019s activity.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat part of the work do you incline to yourself?\u201d asked Sister Hope,\nwith a humorous glimmer in her keen eyes.\n\n\u201cI shall wait till it is made clear to me. Being in preference to doing\nis the great aim, and this comes to us rather by a resigned willingness\nthan a wilful activity, which is a check to all divine growth,\u201d\nresponded Brother Timon.\n\n\u201cI thought so.\u201d And Mrs. Lamb sighed audibly, for during the year he had\nspent in her family Brother Timon had so faithfully carried out his idea\nof \u201cbeing, not doing,\u201d that she had found his \u201cdivine growth\u201d both an\nexpensive and unsatisfactory process.\n\nHere her husband struck into the conversation, his face shining with the\nlight and joy of the splendid dreams and high ideals hovering before\nhim.\n\n\u201cIn these steps of reform, we do not rely so much on scientific\nreasoning or physiological skill as on the spirit\u2019s dictates. The\ngreater part of man\u2019s duty consists in leaving alone much that he now\ndoes. Shall I stimulate with tea, coffee, or wine? No. Shall I consume\nflesh? Not if I value health. Shall I subjugate cattle? Shall I claim\nproperty in any created thing? Shall I trade? Shall I adopt a form of\nreligion? Shall I interest myself in politics? To how many of these\nquestions\u2014could we ask them deeply enough and could they be heard as\nhaving relation to our eternal welfare\u2014would the response be \u2018Abstain\u2019?\u201d\n\nA mild snore seemed to echo the last word of Abel\u2019s rhapsody, for\nBrother Moses had succumbed to mundane slumber and sat nodding like a\nmassive ghost. Forest Absalom, the silent man, and John Pease, the\nEnglish member, now departed to the barn; and Mrs. Lamb led her flock to\na temporary fold, leaving the founders of the \u201cConsociate Family\u201d to\nbuild castles in the air till the fire went out and the symposium ended\nin smoke.\n\nThe furniture arrived next day, and was soon bestowed; for the principal\nproperty of the community consisted in books. To this rare library was\ndevoted the best room in the house, and the few busts and pictures that\nstill survived many flittings were added to beautify the sanctuary, for\nhere the family was to meet for amusement, instruction, and worship.\n\nAny housewife can imagine the emotions of Sister Hope, when she took\npossession of a large, dilapidated kitchen, containing an old stove and\nthe peculiar stores out of which food was to be evolved for her little\nfamily of eleven. Cakes of maple sugar, dried peas and beans, barley and\nhominy, meal of all sorts, potatoes, and dried fruit. No milk, butter,\ncheese, tea, or meat appeared. Even salt was considered a useless luxury\nand spice entirely forbidden by these lovers of Spartan simplicity. A\nten years\u2019 experience of vegetarian vagaries had been good training for\nthis new freak, and her sense of the ludicrous supported her through\nmany trying scenes.\n\nUnleavened bread, porridge, and water for breakfast; bread, vegetables,\nand water for dinner; bread, fruit, and water for supper was the bill of\nfare ordained by the elders. No teapot profaned that sacred stove, no\ngory steak cried aloud for vengeance from her chaste gridiron; and only\na brave woman\u2019s taste, time, and temper were sacrificed on that domestic\naltar.\n\nThe vexed question of light was settled by buying a quantity of bayberry\nwax for candles; and, on discovering that no one knew how to make them,\npine knots were introduced, to be used when absolutely necessary. Being\nsummer, the evenings were not long, and the weary fraternity found it no\ngreat hardship to retire with the birds. The inner light was sufficient\nfor most of them. But Mrs. Lamb rebelled. Evening was the only time she\nhad to herself, and while the tired feet rested the skilful hands mended\ntorn frocks and little stockings, or anxious heart forgot its burden in\na book.\n\nSo \u201cmother\u2019s lamp\u201d burned steadily, while the philosophers built a new\nheaven and earth by moonlight; and through all the metaphysical mists\nand philanthropic pyrotechnics of that period Sister Hope played her own\nlittle game of \u201cthrowing light,\u201d and none but the moths were the worse\nfor it.\n\nSuch farming probably was never seen before since Adam delved. The band\nof brothers began by spading garden and field; but a few days of it\nlessened their ardor amazingly. Blistered hands and aching backs\nsuggested the expediency of permitting the use of cattle till the\nworkers were better fitted for noble toil by a summer of the new life.\n\nBrother Moses brought a yoke of oxen from his farm,\u2014at least, the\nphilosophers thought so till it was discovered that one of the animals\nwas a cow; and Moses confessed that he \u201cmust be let down easy, for he\ncouldn\u2019t live on garden sarse entirely.\u201d\n\nGreat was Dictator Lion\u2019s indignation at this lapse from virtue. But\ntime pressed, the work must be done; so the meek cow was permitted to\nwear the yoke and the recreant brother continued to enjoy forbidden\ndraughts in the barn, which dark proceeding caused the children to\nregard him as one set apart for destruction.\n\nThe sowing was equally peculiar, for, owing to some mistake, the three\nbrethren, who devoted themselves to this graceful task, found when about\nhalf through the job that each had been sowing a different sort of grain\nin the same field; a mistake which caused much perplexity, as it could\nnot be remedied; but, after a long consultation and a good deal of\nlaughter, it was decided to say nothing and see what would come of it.\n\nThe garden was planted with a generous supply of useful roots and herbs;\nbut, as manure was not allowed to profane the virgin soil, few of these\nvegetable treasures ever came up. Purslane reigned supreme, and the\ndisappointed planters ate it philosophically, deciding that Nature knew\nwhat was best for them, and would generously supply their needs, if they\ncould only learn to digest her \u201csallets\u201d and wild roots.\n\nThe orchard was laid out, a little grafting done, new trees and vines\nset, regardless of the unfit season and entire ignorance of the\nhusbandmen, who honestly believed that in the autumn they would reap a\nbounteous harvest.\n\nSlowly things got into order, and rapidly rumors of the new experiment\nwent abroad, causing many strange spirits to flock thither, for in those\ndays communities were the fashion and transcendentalism raged wildly.\nSome came to look on and laugh, some to be supported in poetic idleness,\na few to believe sincerely and work heartily. Each member was allowed to\nmount his favorite hobby and ride it to his heart\u2019s content. Very queer\nwere some of the riders, and very rampant some of the hobbies.\n\nOne youth, believing that language was of little consequence if the\nspirit was only right, startled new-comers by blandly greeting them with\n\u201cGood-morning, damn you,\u201d and other remarks of an equally mixed order. A\nsecond irrepressible being held that all the emotions of the soul should\nbe freely expressed, and illustrated his theory by antics that would\nhave sent him to a lunatic asylum, if, as an unregenerate wag said, he\nhad not already been in one. When his spirit soared, he climbed trees\nand shouted; when doubt assailed him, he lay upon the floor and groaned\nlamentably. At joyful periods, he raced, leaped, and sang; when sad, he\nwept aloud; and when a great thought burst upon him in the watches of\nthe night, he crowed like a jocund cockerel, to the great delight of the\nchildren and the great annoyance of the elders. One musical brother\nfiddled whenever so moved, sang sentimentally to the four little girls,\nand put a music-box on the wall when he hoed corn.\n\nBrother Pease ground away at his uncooked food, or browsed over the farm\non sorrel, mint, green fruit, and new vegetables. Occasionally he took\nhis walks abroad, airily attired in an unbleached cotton _poncho_, which\nwas the nearest approach to the primeval costume he was allowed to\nindulge in. At midsummer he retired to the wilderness, to try his plan\nwhere the woodchucks were without prejudices and huckleberry-bushes were\nhospitably full. A sunstroke unfortunately spoilt his plan, and he\nreturned to semi-civilization a sadder and wiser man.\n\nForest Absalom preserved his Pythagorean silence, cultivated his fine\ndark locks, and worked like a beaver, setting an excellent example of\nbrotherly love, justice, and fidelity by his upright life. He it was who\nhelped overworked Sister Hope with her heavy washes, kneaded the endless\nsuccession of batches of bread, watched over the children, and did the\nmany tasks left undone by the brethren, who were so busy discussing and\ndefining great duties that they forgot to perform the small ones.\n\nMoses White placidly plodded about, \u201cchorin\u2019 raound,\u201d as he called it,\nlooking like an old-time patriarch, with his silver hair and flowing\nbeard, and saving the community from many a mishap by his thrift and\nYankee shrewdness.\n\nBrother Lion domineered over the whole concern; for, having put the most\nmoney into the speculation, he was resolved to make it pay,\u2014as if\nanything founded on an ideal basis could be expected to do so by any but\nenthusiasts.\n\nAbel Lamb simply revelled in the Newness, firmly believing that his\ndream was to be beautifully realized and in time not only little\nFruitlands, but the whole earth, be turned into a Happy Valley. He\nworked with every muscle of his body, for _he_ was in deadly earnest. He\ntaught with his whole head and heart; planned and sacrificed, preached\nand prophesied, with a soul full of the purest aspirations, most\nunselfish purposes, and desires for a life devoted to God and man, too\nhigh and tender to bear the rough usage of this world.\n\nIt was a little remarkable that only one woman ever joined this\ncommunity. Mrs. Lamb merely followed wheresoever her husband led,\u2014\u201cas\nballast for his balloon,\u201d as she said, in her bright way.\n\nMiss Jane Gage was a stout lady of mature years, sentimental, amiable,\nand lazy. She wrote verses copiously, and had vague yearnings and\ngraspings after the unknown, which led her to believe herself fitted for\na higher sphere than any she had yet adorned.\n\nHaving been a teacher, she was set to instructing the children in the\ncommon branches. Each adult member took a turn at the infants; and, as\neach taught in his own way, the result was a chronic state of chaos in\nthe minds of these much-afflicted innocents.\n\nSleep, food, and poetic musings were the desires of dear Jane\u2019s life,\nand she shirked all duties as clogs upon her spirit\u2019s wings. Any thought\nof lending a hand with the domestic drudgery never occurred to her; and\nwhen to the question, \u201cAre there any beasts of burden on the place?\u201d\nMrs. Lamb answered, with a face that told its own tale, \u201cOnly one\nwoman!\u201d the buxom Jane took no shame to herself, but laughed at the\njoke, and let the stout-hearted sister tug on alone.\n\nUnfortunately, the poor lady hankered after the flesh-pots, and\nendeavored to stay herself with private sips of milk, crackers, and\ncheese, and on one dire occasion she partook of fish at a neighbor\u2019s\ntable.\n\nOne of the children reported this sad lapse from virtue, and poor Jane\nwas publicly reprimanded by Timon.\n\n\u201cI only took a little bit of the tail,\u201d sobbed the penitent poetess.\n\n\u201cYes, but the whole fish had to be tortured and slain that you might\ntempt your carnal appetite with that one taste of the tail. Know ye not,\nconsumers of flesh meat, that ye are nourishing the wolf and tiger in\nyour bosoms?\u201d\n\nAt this awful question and the peal of laughter which arose from some of\nthe younger brethren, tickled by the ludicrous contrast between the\nstout sinner, the stern judge, and the naughty satisfaction of the young\ndetective, poor Jane fled from the room to pack her trunk and return to\na world where fishes\u2019 tails were not forbidden fruit.\n\nTranscendental wild oats were sown broadcast that year, and the fame\nthereof has not yet ceased in the land; for, futile as this crop seemed\nto outsiders, it bore an invisible harvest, worth much to those who\nplanted in earnest. As none of the members of this particular community\nhave ever recounted their experiences before, a few of them may not be\namiss, since the interest in these attempts has never died out and\nFruitlands was the most ideal of all these castles in Spain.\n\nA new dress was invented, since cotton, silk, and wool were forbidden as\nthe product of slave-labor, worm-slaughter, and sheep-robbery. Tunics\nand trowsers of brown linen were the only wear. The women\u2019s skirts were\nlonger, and their straw hat-brims wider than the men\u2019s, and this was the\nonly difference. Some persecution lent a charm to the costume, and the\nlong-haired, linen-clad reformers quite enjoyed the mild martyrdom they\nendured when they left home.\n\nMoney was abjured, as the root of all evil. The produce of the land was\nto supply most of their wants, or be exchanged for the few things they\ncould not grow. This idea had its inconveniences; but self-denial was\nthe fashion, and it was surprising how many things one can do without.\nWhen they desired to travel, they walked, if possible, begged the loan\nof a vehicle, or boldly entered car or coach, and, stating their\nprinciples to the officials, took the consequences. Usually their dress,\ntheir earnest frankness, and gentle resolution won them a passage; but\nnow and then they met with hard usage, and had the satisfaction of\nsuffering for their principles.\n\nOn one of these penniless pilgrimages they took passage on a boat, and,\nwhen fare was demanded, artlessly offered to talk, instead of pay. As\nthe boat was well under way and they actually had not a cent, there was\nno help for it. So Brothers Lion and Lamb held forth to the assembled\npassengers in their most eloquent style. There must have been something\neffective in this conversation, for the listeners were moved to take up\na contribution for these inspired lunatics, who preached peace on earth\nand good-will to man so earnestly, with empty pockets. A goodly sum was\ncollected; but when the captain presented it the reformers proved that\nthey were consistent even in their madness, for not a penny would they\naccept, saying, with a look at the group about them, whose indifference\nor contempt had changed to interest and respect, \u201cYou see how well we\nget on without money\u201d; and so went serenely on their way, with their\nlinen blouses flapping airily in the cold October wind.\n\nThey preached vegetarianism everywhere and resisted all temptations of\nthe flesh, contentedly eating apples and bread at well-spread tables,\nand much afflicting hospitable hostesses by denouncing their food and\ntaking away their appetites, discussing the \u201chorrors of shambles,\u201d the\n\u201cincorporation of the brute in man,\u201d and \u201con elegant abstinence the sign\nof a pure soul.\u201d But, when the perplexed or offended ladies asked what\nthey should eat, they got in reply a bill of fare consisting of \u201cbowls\nof sunrise for breakfast,\u201d \u201csolar seeds of the sphere,\u201d \u201cdishes from\nPlutarch\u2019s chaste table,\u201d and other viands equally hard to find in any\nmodern market.\n\nReform conventions of all sorts were haunted by these brethren, who said\nmany wise things and did many foolish ones. Unfortunately, these\nwanderings interfered with their harvest at home; but the rule was to do\nwhat the spirit moved, so they left their crops to Providence and went\na-reaping in wider and, let us hope, more fruitful fields than their\nown.\n\nLuckily, the earthly providence who watched over Abel Lamb was at hand\nto glean the scanty crop yielded by the \u201cuncorrupted land,\u201d which,\n\u201cconsecrated to human freedom,\u201d had received \u201cthe sober culture of\ndevout men.\u201d\n\nAbout the time the grain was ready to house, some call of the Oversoul\nwafted all the men away. An easterly storm was coming up and the yellow\nstacks were sure to be ruined. Then Sister Hope gathered her forces.\nThree little girls, one boy (Timon\u2019s son), and herself, harnessed to\nclothes-baskets and Russia-linen sheets, were the only teams she could\ncommand; but with these poor appliances the indomitable woman got in the\ngrain and saved food for her young, with the instinct and energy of a\nmother-bird with a brood of hungry nestlings to feed.\n\nThis attempt at regeneration had its tragic as well as comic side,\nthough the world only saw the former.\n\nWith the first frosts, the butterflies, who had sunned themselves in the\nnew light through the summer, took flight, leaving the few bees to see\nwhat honey they had stored for winter use. Precious little appeared\nbeyond the satisfaction of a few months of holy living.\n\nAt first it seemed as if a chance to try holy dying also was to be\noffered them. Timon, much disgusted with the failure of the scheme,\ndecided to retire to the Shakers, who seemed to be the only successful\ncommunity going.\n\n\u201cWhat is to become of us?\u201d asked Mrs. Hope, for Abel was heart-broken at\nthe bursting of his lovely bubble.\n\n\u201cYou can stay here, if you like, till a tenant is found. No more wood\nmust be cut, however, and no more corn ground. All I have must be sold\nto pay the debts of the concern, as the responsibility rests with me,\u201d\nwas the cheering reply.\n\n\u201cWho is to pay us for what we have lost? I gave all I had,\u2014furniture,\ntime, strength, six months of my children\u2019s lives,\u2014and all are wasted.\nAbel gave himself body and soul, and is almost wrecked by hard work and\ndisappointment. Are we to have no return for this, but leave to starve\nand freeze in an old house, with winter at hand, no money, and hardly a\nfriend left; for this wild scheme has alienated nearly all we had. You\ntalk much about justice. Let us have a little, since there is nothing\nelse left.\u201d\n\nBut the woman\u2019s appeal met with no reply but the old one: \u201cIt was an\nexperiment. We all risked something, and must bear our losses as we\ncan.\u201d\n\nWith this cold comfort, Timon departed with his son, and was absorbed\ninto the Shaker brotherhood, where he soon found that the order of\nthings was reversed, and it was all work and no play.\n\nThen the tragedy began for the forsaken little family. Desolation and\ndespair fell upon Abel. As his wife said, his new beliefs had alienated\nmany friends. Some thought him mad, some unprincipled. Even the most\nkindly thought him a visionary, whom it was useless to help till he took\nmore practical views of life. All stood aloof, saying: \u201cLet him work out\nhis own ideas, and see what they are worth.\u201d\n\nHe had tried, but it was a failure. The world was not ready for Utopia\nyet, and those who attempted to found it only got laughed at for their\npains. In other days, men could sell all and give to the poor, lead\nlives devoted to holiness and high thought, and, after the persecution\nwas over, find themselves honored as saints or martyrs. But in modern\ntimes these things are out of fashion. To live for one\u2019s principles, at\nall costs, is a dangerous speculation; and the failure of an ideal, no\nmatter how humane and noble, is harder for the world to forgive and\nforget than bank robbery or the grand swindles of corrupt politicians.\n\nDeep waters now for Abel, and for a time there seemed no passage\nthrough. Strength and spirits were exhausted by hard work and too much\nthought. Courage failed when, looking about for help, he saw no\nsympathizing face, no hand outstretched to help him, no voice to say\ncheerily,\n\n\u201cWe all make mistakes, and it takes many experiences to shape a life.\nTry again, and let us help you.\u201d\n\nEvery door was closed, every eye averted, every heart cold, and no way\nopen whereby he might earn bread for his children. His principles would\nnot permit him to do many things that others did; and in the few fields\nwhere conscience would allow him to work, who would employ a man who had\nflown in the face of society, as he had done?\n\nThen this dreamer, whose dream was the life of his life, resolved to\ncarry out his idea to the bitter end. There seemed no place for him\nhere,\u2014no work, no friend. To go begging conditions was as ignoble as to\ngo begging money. Better perish of want than sell one\u2019s soul for the\nsustenance of his body. Silently he lay down upon his bed, turned his\nface to the wall, and waited with pathetic patience for death to cut the\nknot which he could not untie. Days and nights went by, and neither food\nnor water passed his lips. Soul and body were dumbly struggling\ntogether, and no word of complaint betrayed what either suffered.\n\nHis wife, when tears and prayers were unavailing, sat down to wait the\nend with a mysterious awe and submission; for in this entire resignation\nof all things there was an eloquent significance to her who knew him as\nno other human being did.\n\n\u201cLeave all to God,\u201d was his belief; and in this crisis the loving soul\nclung to this faith, sure that the Allwise Father would not desert this\nchild who tried to live so near to Him. Gathering her children about\nher, she waited the issue of the tragedy that was being enacted in that\nsolitary room, while the first snow fell outside, untrodden by the\nfootprints of a single friend.\n\nBut the strong angels who sustain and teach perplexed and troubled souls\ncame and went, leaving no trace without, but working miracles within.\nFor, when all other sentiments had faded into dimness, all other hopes\ndied utterly; when the bitterness of death was nearly over, when body\nwas past any pang of hunger or thirst, and soul stood ready to depart,\nthe love that outlives all else refused to die. Head had bowed to\ndefeat, hand had grown weary with too heavy tasks, but heart could not\ngrow cold to those who lived in its tender depths, even when death\ntouched it.\n\n\u201cMy faithful wife, my little girls,\u2014they have not forsaken me, they are\nmine by ties that none can break. What right have I to leave them alone?\nWhat right to escape from the burden and the sorrow I have helped to\nbring? This duty remains to me, and I must do it manfully. For their\nsakes, the world will forgive me in time; for their sakes, God will\nsustain me now.\u201d\n\nToo feeble to rise, Abel groped for the food that always lay within his\nreach, and in the darkness and solitude of that memorable night ate and\ndrank what was to him the bread and wine of a new communion, a new\ndedication of heart and life to the duties that were left him when the\ndreams fled.\n\nIn the early dawn, when that sad wife crept fearfully to see what change\nhad come to the patient face on the pillow, she found it smiling at her,\nsaw a wasted hand outstretched to her, and heard a feeble voice cry\nbravely, \u201cHope!\u201d\n\nWhat passed in that little room is not to be recorded except in the\nhearts of those who suffered and endured much for love\u2019s sake. Enough\nfor us to know that soon the wan shadow of a man came forth, leaning on\nthe arm that never failed him, to be welcomed and cherished by the\nchildren, who never forgot the experiences of that time.\n\n\u201cHope\u201d was the watchword now; and, while the last logs blazed on the\nhearth, the last bread and apples covered the table, the new commander,\nwith recovered courage, said to her husband,\u2014\n\n\u201cLeave all to God\u2014and me. He has done his part, now I will do mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we have no money, dear.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we have. I sold all we could spare, and have enough to take us\naway from this snowbank.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere can we go?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have engaged four rooms at our good neighbor, Lovejoy\u2019s. There we can\nlive cheaply till spring. Then for new plans and a home of our own,\nplease God.\u201d\n\n[Illustration:\n\n ORCHARD HOUSE AT CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS\n\n The Alcott home of later years\n]\n\n\u201cBut, Hope, your little store won\u2019t last long, and we have no friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can sew and you can chop wood. Lovejoy offers you the same pay as he\ngives his other men; my old friend, Mrs. Truman, will send me all the\nwork I want; and my blessed brother stands by us to the end. Cheer up,\ndear heart, for while there is work and love in the world we shall not\nsuffer.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd while I have my good angel Hope, I shall not despair, even if I\nwait another thirty years before I step beyond the circle of the sacred\nlittle world in which I still have a place to fill.\u201d\n\nSo one bleak December day, with their few possessions piled on an\nox-sled, the rosy children perched atop, and the parents trudging arm in\narm behind, the exiles left their Eden and faced the world again.\n\n\u201cAh, me! my happy dream. How much I leave behind that never can be mine\nagain,\u201d said Abel, looking back at the lost Paradise, lying white and\nchill in its shroud of snow.\n\n\u201cYes, dear; but how much we bring away,\u201d answered brave-hearted Hope,\nglancing from husband to children.\n\n\u201cPoor Fruitlands! The name was as great a failure as the rest!\u201d\ncontinued Abel, with a sigh, as a frostbitten apple fell from a leafless\nbough at his feet.\n\nBut the sigh changed to a smile as his wife added, in a half-tender,\nhalf-satirical tone,\u2014\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you think Apple Slump would be a better name for it, dear?\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n[After so many years Louisa Alcott very naturally forgot a few\nunimportant details when she wrote \u201cTranscendental Wild Oats,\u201d yet they\nare important enough to set straight. Papers lately found show the exit\nfrom Fruitlands to have taken place in January. She also speaks of\nstoves in the old house. This is a mistake. The old chimney was taken\ndown by Joseph Palmer\u2019s grandson, Mr. Alvin Holman, many years after the\nFruitlands Community was broken up.]\n\n\n THE END\n\n\n\n\n APPENDIX\n\n\n\n\n CATALOGUE OF THE ORIGINAL FRUITLANDS LIBRARY\n\n\n Hexapla; the Greek text of the New Testament with six English Versions\n in parallel columns. 4to. London. 1840.\n\n Confucii Sinarum Philosophus. Folio. 1787.\n\n The Laws of Menu. Translated by Sir William Jones.\n\n The Desatir; Sacred Writings of the Ancient Persian Prophets. Persian\n and English. Bombay. 1818.\n\n The Divine Pymander of Hermes Trismegistus. London. 1650.\n\n Juliana\u2019s Revelation of Divine Love. 1670.\n\n St. Bridget\u2019s Revelations. Nuremberg. 1500.\n\n Behmen\u2019s Works. Theosophia Revelata, das ist alle Gottliche Schriften\n des Jacob Behmens. With Life, etc., edited by J. G. Gechtels. 1\n vol., folio. 4,500 pages. 1715.\n\n \u2014\u2014 The Rev. William Law\u2019s edition, containing the Aurora or Morning\n Red; the Three Principles; Man\u2019s Threefold Life; Answer to the Forty\n Questions concerning the Soul; Signatura Rerum; The Four\n Complexions; The Mysterium Magnum, etc. 4 vols. 4to. London. 1764.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Signatura Rerum; Supersensual Life, etc. 4to. London. 1781.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Way to Christ. London. 1775.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Teutonic Philosophy. London. 1770.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Life, by Francis Okely. Northampton. 1780.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Theosophick Philosophy Unfolded, by Edward Taylor. London. 1691.\n\n Behmen\u2019s Works. Epistles and Apologies, by John Sparrow. London. 1662.\n\n Graber and Gichtel. Kurze Eroffnnug und Unweisung der dreyen Pincipien\n und Welten in Menschen. Berlin. 1779.\n\n H. Jansen. A Spiritual Journey. 4to. London. 1659.\n\n Lamy. La Vie de St. Bernard. 4to. Paris. 1648.\n\n Henrico Khurrath. Amphitheatrum Sapienti\u00e6 \u00c6tern\u00e6. Folio. Magdeburg.\n 1602.\n\n Molinos\u2019 Spiritual Guide. Dublin. 1798.\n\n S. Pordage. Mundorum Explicatio. London. 1663.\n\n J. Pordage. Theologia Mystica. London. 1683.\n\n DeSales\u2019 Introduction to a Devout Life. London. 1686.\n\n Matthew Weyer\u2019s Narrow Path of Divine Truth. London. 1683.\n\n Important Truths relating to Spiritual and Practical Christianity.\n London. 1769.\n\n Unpremeditated Thoughts of God.\n\n H. Hugonis Pia Desideria. London. 1677.\n\n Theologi\u00e6 Pacific\u00e6 itemque Mystic\u00e6. Amstelodami. 1622.\n\n Immanuel. By S. S. London. 1669.\n\n A. Bourignon. Light in Darkness. London. 1703.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Solid Virtue. London. 1699.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Life and Sentiments. London. 1699.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Light of the World. London. 1696.\n\n Madame Guyon. Po\u00e9sies et Cantiques Spirituels. Cologne. 1722.\n\n Madame Guyon. Life by Brooke. Bristol. 1806.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Lettres Chr\u00e9tiennes, etc. 5 vols. London. 1767.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Les Opuscules Spirituels. 2 vols. Paris. 1790.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Life. 3 vols. Paris. 1791.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Polemics. London. 1841.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Selections in German. Manheim. 1787.\n\n F\u00e9nelon\u2019s Dissertation on Pure Love. London. 1750.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Account of Madame Guyon. London. 1759.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Justifications de Madame Guyon. Paris. 1790.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Maxims of the Saints. London. 1698.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Dialogues of the Dead. 2 vols. Berwick. 1770.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Lives and Maxims of Ancient Philosophers. London. 1726.\n\n Thomas \u00e0 Kempis. Imitation of Christ. By Dr. Stanhope. London. 1759.\n\n William Law. Way to Divine Knowledge\n\n \u2014\u2014 Spirit of Prayer.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Spirit of Love.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Christian Perfection.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Serious Call.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Letters.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Appeal.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Answer to Dr. Trapp.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Case of Reason.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Remarks on the Fable of the Bees. 1 vol.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Tracts.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Christian\u2019s Manual (extracts).\n\n \u2014\u2014 Reply to the Bishop of Bangor on the Sacrament. 1719.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Spiritual Fragments (extracts).\n\n \u2014\u2014 Jordani Brunonis Opera. Paris. 1654. Swedenborg. Arcana C\u0153lestia.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Heavenly Doctrine. Cambridge. 1820.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Heaven and Hell. London. 1823.\n\n Coleridge. Biographia Literaria. 2 vols. N. York. 1817.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Aids to Reflection. Burlington. 1829.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Friend. Burlington. 1831.\n\n Graeve\u2019s Manuscripts. 12 vols. 4to. 1828 to 1842.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Maxims. London. 1826.\n\n Novalis Schriften. Berlin. 1836.\n\n Lane\u2019s Third Dispensation. London. 1841.\n\n Alcott\u2019s Conversations with Children on the Gospels. 2 vols. Boston.\n 1836.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Record of a School. Boston. 1835.\n\n Krummacher\u2019s Parabeln. 2 vols. Essen. 1840.\n\n Spinoza\u2019s Works and Epistles. 4to. 1777.\n\n Malebranche\u2019s Search after Truth. 2 vols. London. 1695.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Christian Conferences. London. 1695.\n\n Wilmott\u2019s Lives of the Sacred Poets. London. 1834.\n\n G. Herbert\u2019s Poems. London. 1835.\n\n R. Crashaw\u2019s Steps to the Temple. London. 1670.\n\n Thomas Fletcher\u2019s Purple Island. London. 1783.\n\n Giles Fletcher\u2019s Christ\u2019s Victory. London. 1783.\n\n Quarles\u2019s Emblems and Hieroglyphics. London. 1680.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Divine Fancies. London. 1680.\n\n Huarte\u2019s Wits Commonwealth, or Politeuphuia. London. 1598.\n\n Southcott\u2019s Tracts.\n\n Dr. A. Bury\u2019s Naked Gospel. 4to. London. 1691.\n\n Bromley\u2019s Sabbath of Rest, etc. London. 1761.\n\n Robert Barclay\u2019s Apology. London. 1765.\n\n N. Robinson\u2019s Christian Philosopher. London. 1758.\n\n Poiret. On the Restoration of Man. London. 1713.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Divine Economy. London. 1713.\n\n Virgin in Eden. London. 1741.\n\n Rev. R. Clarke. Gospel of the Daily Service. London. 1767.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Jesus the Nazarene. London. 1770.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Spiritual Voice. London. 1700.\n\n Tracts. By Jane Lead.\n\n Boehms\u2019 History of Pietism. London. 1707.\n\n Franck. Pietas Hallensis. London. 1705.\n\n Pascal\u2019s Thoughts on Religion. London. 1806.\n\n P. Buchius on the Divine Being. London. 1693.\n\n Bellarmine\u2019s Soul\u2019s Ascension to God. London. 1703.\n\n R. Wilkinson\u2019s Saint\u2019s Travel to Canaan. London. 1650.\n\n Man before Adam. London. 1656.\n\n T. Hartley\u2019s Paradise Restored. London. 1764.\n\n J. Serjeant\u2019s Transnatural Philosophy. London. 1700.\n\n Henry More. Platonic. Cambridge. 1642.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Works. Folio. London. 1642.\n\n Universal Restitution. London. 1761.\n\n Peter Sterry on the Freedome of the Will. Folio. London. 1675.\n\n Pathomachia, or the Battell of Affections shadowed by a faigned siedge\n of the Citie Pathopolis. 4to. London. 1631.\n\n L. Howell\u2019s Desiderius, or the Original Pilgrim. London. 1716.\n\n Bernard\u2019s Isle of Man. London. 1803.\n\n Olbia, or the New Island. 4to. London. 1600.\n\n Ramsey\u2019s Philosophical Principles of Natural and Revealed Religion.\n Glasgow. 2 vols. 4to. 1748.\n\n Justus Lipsius. On Constancy. London. 1654.\n\n General Delusion of Christians. London. 1714.\n\n Norris. On Love. London. 1723.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Amoris Effigies, of Waring. London. 1744.\n\n \u2014\u2014 On Matrimony. 2 vols. London. 1739.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Ideal World. 2 vols. London. 1701.\n\n Wither\u2019s Britain\u2019s Remembrancer. London. 1628.\n\n Dr. Bryom\u2019s Miscellaneous Poems. 2 vols. Manchester. 1773.\n\n Du Bartas\u2019 Divine Weekes and Workes. By Josiah Sylvester. 670 pages.\n Folio. London. 1641.\n\n Verstegan\u2019s Restitution of Decayed Intelligence. 4to. London.\n\n Rei Rustic\u00e6 Auctores Latini Veteres. M. Cato, L. Columella, M. Varo.\n Palladius. 1595.\n\n Tusser\u2019s Husbandry. London. 1744.\n\n Evelyn. Kalendarium Hortense. London. 1699.\n\n Porphyry on Abstinence from Animal Food. By T. Taylor. London. 1823.\n\n Tyron. Averroeana, or Letters from Averroes. London. 1687.\n\n Tyron. Way to Health. London. 1697.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Knowledge of Man\u2019s Self. London. 1703.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Letters, Philosophical, Theological, and Moral. London. 1700.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Self-Knowledge. London. 1703.\n\n \u2014\u2014 On Dreams. London. 1691.\n\n Newton\u2019s Return to Nature. London. 1811.\n\n Sir J. Floyer\u2019s \u03a8\u03c5\u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03af\u03b1. London. 1732.\n\n R. T. Claridge\u2019s Hydropathy. London. 1842.\n\n J. H. Cohausen. Hermippus Redivivus. London. 1771.\n\n Thomas Stanley\u2019s History of Philosophy. 750 pages. Folio. London. 1700.\n\n Jamblichus on the Mysteries. Translated by T. Taylor.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Life of Pythagoras. By T. Taylor.\n\n Dacier\u2019s Lives of Pythagoras and Hierocles. London. 1707.\n\n Plato\u2019s Works, containing with the fifty-five Dialogues and twelve\n Epistles the substance of nearly all the existing Greek MSS.\n Commentaries and scholia on Plato. By Thomas Taylor. 5 vols. 4to.\n London. 1804.\n\n Plotinus. Select Works. By T. Taylor. London. 1817.\n\n \u2014\u2014 On Suicide. By T. Taylor. London. 1834.\n\n Proclus. Commentaries on Euclid, by T. Taylor. 2 vols. 4to. London.\n 1788.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Six Books on Plato\u2019s Theology. By T. Taylor. 2 vols. 4to. London.\n 1816.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Commentaries on the Tim\u00e6us of Plato. By T. Taylor. 2 vols. 4to.\n London. 1820.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Fragments. By T. Taylor. London. 1825.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Ten Doubts, etc. London. 1833.\n\n Stanhope\u2019s Epictetus. London. 1721.\n\n Xenophon\u2019s Banquet. By Dr. Welwood. London. 1710.\n\n Dr. J. Welwood\u2019s Essay on Socrates. London. 1710.\n\n Xenophon\u2019s Memoirs of Socrates. By Sarah Fielding. London. 1788.\n\n Plutarch\u2019s Morals. 5 vols. London. 1694.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Lives. By Langhorn. 8 vols. London. 1821.\n\n Seneca\u2019s Morals. London. 1688.\n\n Marcus Antonius. London. 1534.\n\n Julii Pacii a Berega in Porphyii Isagogen et Aristotelis Organum. 4to.\n Geneva. 1605.\n\n Aristotle\u2019s Metaphysics. By T. Taylor. 4to. London. 1801.\n\n \u2014\u2014 4to. Greek and Latin. (Jul. Pacius.) Geneva. 1605.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Greek and Latin (Jul. Pacius.)\n\n Thomas Taylor. Dissertation on the Philosophy of Aristotle. 4to.\n London. 1812.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Theoretic Arithmetic. 1816.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Select Works of Porphyry. London. 1823.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Orcellus Lucanus, etc. London. 1831.\n\n \u2014\u2014 See Proclus, Plato, etc.\n\n William Bridgman. On the Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle; with\n Greaves\u2019s MS. Notes. 4to. London. 1807.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Translations of Greek Moralists. 1804.\n\n Burton\u2019s Anatomy of Melancholy. 8vo. 743 pp. London. 1838.\n\n Bacon. Novum Organum. Amstelodami. 1660.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Wisdom of the Ancients. London. 1836.\n\n Sir T. Browne. Religio Medici, and Urn Burial. London.\n\n J. Moerman. Apologia Creaturum and other Emblems. 4to. 1584.\n\n Redelium. Apophthegmata Symbolica.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Annus Symbolicus. 4to.\n\n Menestrerii Philosophia Imaginum. Amstelodami. 1695.\n\n Alciati Emblemata, cum Claudii Minois Commentariis Raphelengii. 1608.\n\n Muncherus, Mythographi Latini. Amstelodami. 1681.\n\n Astrey\u2019s Emblems. 2 vols. London. 1700.\n\n Choice Emblems, Divine and Moral. London. 1732.\n\n Dr. F. Lee\u2019s \u1f08\u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c0\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03b1, or Theological, Mathematical, and Physical\n Dissertations. 2 vols. London. 1752.\n\n Dr. Godwin. Synopsis Antiquitatum Hebraicarum. 4to. London. 1690.\n\n Walter Whiter. Etymologicum Magnum. 4to. Cambridge. 1800.\n\n B. Holloway\u2019s Physical and Theological Originals. Oxford. 1751.\n\n Jablonskii. Pantheon \u00c6gyptiorum. 2 vols. Francofurti. 1750.\n\n Homberg. Mythologie der Griechen und Romer. Leipzig. 1839.\n\n Pinnock\u2019s Iconology.\n\n \u00c6sop\u2019s Fables and other eminent Mythologists, by L\u2019Estrange. 480 pp.,\n folio. London. 1692.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Greek and Latin. Trajecti ad Rhenam. 1689.\n\n Hesiod\u2019s Works. By T. Cooke. London. 1740.\n\n Pindari. Alc\u0153i, Sapphus, Stesichori, Anacreontis, Simonidis, Alemonis,\n etc. Gr\u00e6ce et Latine. Heidelberge. 1597.\n\n Wintertoni. Poet\u00e6 Minores Gr\u00e6ci. Gr\u00e6ce et Latine. Cantabrigi\u00e6. 1677.\n\n Hippocrates. By Sprengell. London. 1708.\n\n Van Helmont. Oriatrike, or Physic Refined. 1200 pp. Folio. London.\n 1662.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Treatise on Natural Philosophy. London. 1687.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Paradoxical Discourses. London. 1685.\n\n Paracelsus. Archidoxis. London. 1663.\n\n Roger Bacon. Opus Magnus.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Mirror of Alchymy. 1597.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Admirable Force of Nature and Art.\n\n Pyrotechny Asserted and Illustrated. London. 1658.\n\n Reginald Scot\u2019s Discovery of Witchcraft. Folio. London. 1665.\n\n E. Sibley\u2019s Key to Physic and Occult Sciences. 4to. London.\n\n Magi\u00e6 Adami\u00e6, or the Antiquitie of Magic. London. 1650.\n\n Centrum Natur\u00e6 Concentratum, or the Salt of Nature Regenerated. London.\n 1696.\n\n Stilling\u2019s Theory of Pneumatology. London. 1834.\n\n J. C. Colquhoun. Isis Revelata. 2 vols. Edinburgh. 1836.\n\n K. Digbey. On the Nature of Bodies; and Man\u2019s Soule. 4to. London. 1645.\n\n The Vital Principle, or Physiology of Man. London. 1838.\n\n Green\u2019s Vital Dynamics. London. 1838.\n\n William Cooper\u2019s Jehior, or Day of Dawning, Golden Ass, and Catalogue\n of Mystic Books. London. 1673.\n\n H. C. Agrippa. Occult Philosophy. 4to. London. 1655.\n\n \u2014\u2014 Vanity of the Arts and Sciences.\n\n\n\n\n The Riverside Press\n\n CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS\n\n U . S . A\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\n 1. Silently corrected typographical errors.\n 2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.\n 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.","title":"Bronson Alcott's Fruitlands, compiled by Clara Endicott Sears: With Transcendental Wild Oats, by Louisa M. Alcott","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":41696}