B i — JhIII jflBsi lli i i m wttmn ^»- 9 i iY s.B G E PutB t n ! e u S » , r] TRANSCENDENTALISM IN NEW ENGLAND A HISTORY ¥ BY OCTAVIUS BROOKS FROTHINGHAM ii Author of " Life of Theodore Parker" " Religio?i of Humanity," 1 &>c. &C. 1276. < NEW YORK G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 182 Fifth Avenue 1876 w : ^ ^ Copyright, G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. 1876. CONTENTS. PAGE Contents iii Preface v I. Beginnings in Germany * I II. Transcendentalism in Germany— Kant, Jacobi, Ficiite, etc. 14 III. Theology and Literature — Schleiermacher, Goethe, Rich- ter, etc 47 IV. Transcendentalism in France — Cousin. Constant, Jouffroy, etc 60 V. Transcendentalism in England — Coleridge, Carlyle, Wordsworth 76 Transcendentalism in New England 105 VII. Practical Tendencies 142 IV CONTENTS. VIII. PAGE v Religious Tendencies 185 IX. The Seer — Emerson 218 X. The Mystic — Alcott 249 XI. The Critic — Margaret Fuller 284 XII. The Preacher — Theodore Parker 302 XIII. The Man of Letters — George Ripley 322 XIV. Minor Prophets 335 XV. Literature 357 PREFACE WHILE we are gathering up for exhibition before other nations, the results of a century of American life, with a purpose to show the issues thus far of our experiment in free institutions, it is fitting that some report should be made of the influences that have shaped the national mind, and determined in any important degree or re- spect its intellectual and moral character. A well- considered account of these influences would be of very great value to the student of history, the statesman and philosopher, not merely as throwing light on our own social problem, but as illustrating the general law of human progress. This book is offered as a modest con- tribution to that knowledge. Transcendentalism, as it is called, the transcendental movement, was an important factor in American life. Though local in activity, limited in scope, brief in dura- tion, engaging but a comparatively small number of in- dividuals, and passing over the upper regions of the mind, it left a broad and deep trace on ideas and insti- tutions. It affected thinkers, swayed politicians, guided moralists, inspired philanthropists, created reformers: The moral enthusiasm of the last generation, which v i PREFACE. broke out with such prodigious power in the holy war against slavery ; which uttered such earnest protests against capital punishment, and the wrongs inflicted on women ; which made such passionate pleading in behalf of the weak, the injured, the disfranchised of every race and. condition ; which exalted humanity above institu- tions, and proclaimed the inherent worth of man, — owed, in larger measure than is suspected, its glow and force to the Transcendentalists. This, as a fact of history, must be admitted, as well by those who judge the movement unfavorably, as by its friends. In the view of history, which is concerned with causes and effects in | their large human relations, individual opinions on them are of small moment. It was once the fashion — and still in some quarters it is the fashion — to laugh at Tran- scendentalism as an incomprehensible folly, and to call Transcendentalists visionaries. To admit that they were, would not alter the fact that they exerted an influence on their generation. It is usual with critics of a cold, unsympathetic, cynical cast, to speak of Transcendental - ism as a form of sentimentality, and of Transcendentalists as sentimentalists ; to decry enthusiasm, and deprecate the mischievous effects of feeling on the discussion of social questions. But their disapproval, however just and wholesome, does not abolish the trace which moral enthusiasm, under whatever name these judges may please to put upon it, has left on the social life of the people. Whether the impression was for evil or for good, it is there, and equally significant for warning or for commendation. PREFACE. iiv As a form of mental philosophy Transcendentalism may have had its day ; at any rate, it is no longer in the ascendant, and at present is manifestly on the de- cline, being suppressed by the philosophy of experience, which, under different names, is taking' possession of the speculative world. But neither has this considera- tion weight in deciding its value as an element in pro- gress. An unsound system requires as accurate a description and as severe an analysis as a sound one ; and no speculative prejudice should interfere with the most candid acknowledgment of its importance. Error is not disarmed or disenchanted by caricature or neglect. To those who may object that the writer has too freely indulged his own prejudices in favor of Transcen- dentalism and the Transcendentalists, and has trans- gressed his own rules by writing a eulogy instead of a history, he would reply, that in his belief every system is best understood when studied sympathetically, and is most fairly interpreted from the inside. We can know- its purposes only from its friends, and we can do justice to its friends only when we accept their own account of their beliefs and aims. Renan somewhere says, that in order to- judge a faith one must have confessed it and abandoned it. Such a rule supposes sincerity in the confession and honesty in the withdrawal ; but with this qualification its reasonableness is easily admitted. If the result of such a verdict prove more favorable than the polemic would give, and more cordial than the critic approves, it may not be the less just for that. viii PREFACE. The writer was once a pure Transcendentalist, a warm sympathizer with transcendental aspirations, and an ar- dent admirer of transcendental teachers. His ardor may have cooled ; his faith may have been modified ; later studies and meditations may have commended to him other ideas and methods ; but he still retains enough of his former faith to enable him to do it justice. His purpose has been to write a history ; not a critical or philosophical history, but simply a history ; to present his subject with the smallest possible admixture of dis- cussion, either in defence or opposition. He has, therefore, avoided the metaphysics of his theme, by presenting cardinal ideas in the simplest statement he could command, and omitting the details that would only cumber a narrative. Sufficient references are given for the direction of students who may wish to become more intimately acquainted with the transcendental philosophy, but an exhaustive survey of the speculative field has not been attempted. This book has but one purpose — to define the fundamental ideas of the philos- ophy, to trace them to their historical and speculative sources, and to show whither they tended. If he has done this inadequately, it will be disclosed ; he has done it honestly, and as well as he could. In a little while it will be difficult to do it at all ; for the disciples, one by one, are falling asleep ; the literary remains are becom- ing few and scarce ; the materials are disappearing be- neath the rapid accumulations of thought ; the new order is thrusting the old into the background ; and in the course of a few years, even they who can tell the story PREFACE. IX feelingly will have passed away. The author, whose task was gladly accepted, though not voluntarily chosen, ventures to hope, that if it has not been done as well as another might have done it, it has not been done so ill that others will wish he had left it untouched. O. B. F. New York, April 12, 1876. TRANSCENDENTALISM. BEGINNINGS IN GERMANY. To make intelligible the Transcendental Philosophy of the last generation in New England it is not necessary to go far back into the history of thought. Ancient idealism, whether Eastern or Western, may be left un- disturbed. Platonism and neo-Platonism may be excused from further tortures on the witness stand. The spec- ulations of the mystics, Romanist or Protestant, need not be re-examined. The idealism of Gale, More, Por- dage, of Cudworth and the later Berkeley, in England, do not immediately concern us. We need not even submit John Locke to fresh cross-examination, or de- scribe the effect of his writings on the thinkers who came after him. The Transcendental Philosophy, so-called, had a dis- tinct origin in Immanuel Kant, whose " Critique of Pure Reason" was published in 1781, and opened a new epoch in metaphysical thought. By this it is not meant that Kant started a new movement of the human 2 TRANSCENDENTALISM. mind, proposed original problems, or projected issues never contemplated before. The questions he discussed had been discussed from the earliest times, and with an acumen that had searched out the nicest points of defini- tion. In the controversy between the Nominalists, who maintained that the terms used to describe abstract and universal ideas were mere names, designating no real objects and corresponding to no actually existing things, and the Realists, who contended that such terms were not figments of language, but described realities, solid though incorporeal, actual existences, not to be con- founded with visible and transient things, but the essen- tial types of such, — the scholastics of either school dis- cussed after their manner, with astonishing fulness and subtlety, the matters which later metaphysicians intro- duced. The modern Germans revived in substance the doctrines held by the Realists. But the scholastic method, which was borrowed from the Greeks, lost its authority when the power of Aristotle's name declined, and the scholastic discussions, turning, as they signally did, on theological questions, ceased to be interesting when the spell of theology was broken. Between the schools of Sensationalism and Idealism, since John Locke, the same matters were in debate. The Scotch as well as the English metaphysicians dealt With, them according to their genius and ability. The different writers, as they succeeded one another, took up the points that were presented in their day, exer- cised on them such ingenuity as they possessed, and in good faith made their several contributions to the general GERMANY. 3 fund of thought, but neglected to sink their shafts deep enough below the surface to strike new springs of water. Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding was an event that made an epoch in philosophy, because its author, not satisfied to take up questions where his predecessors had left them, undertook an independent examination of the Human Mind, in order to ascertain what were the conditions of its knowledge. The ability with which this attempt was made, the entire sincerity of it, the patient watch of the mental operations, the sagacity that followed the trail of lurking thoughts, sur- prised them in their retreats, and extracted from them the secret of their combinations, fairly earned for him the title of" Father of Modern Psychology." The intellect- ual history of the race shows very few such examples of single-minded fidelity combined with rugged vigor and unaffected simplicity. With what honest directness he announced his purpose ! His book grew out of a warm discussion among friends, the fruitlessness whereof convinced him that both sides had taken a wrong course ; that before men set themselves upon inquiries into the deep matters of philosophy ''it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and see what objects our understandings were or were not fitted to deal with." To do this was his purpose. " First," he said, " I shall inquire into the original of those ideas, notions, or whatever else you please to call them, which a man observes and is conscious to himself he has in his mind ; and the ways whereby the under- standing comes to be furnished with them. 4 TRANSCENDENTALISM. " Secondly, I shall endeavor to show what knowledge the understanding hath by those ideas, and the certain- ty, evidence and extent of it. "Thirdly, I shall make some inquiry into the nature and grounds of faith or opinion ; whereby I mean that assent which we give to any proposition as true, of whose truth we have yet no certain knowledge ; and we shall have occasion to examine the reasons and degrees of assent." Locke did his work well: how well is attested by the excitement it caused in the intellectual world, the im- pulse it gave to speculation in England and on the con- tinent of Europe, the controversies over the author's opinions, the struggle of opposing schools to secure for their doctrines his authority, the appreciation on one side, the depreciation on the other, the disposition of one period to exalt him as the greatest discoverer in the phi- losophic realm, and the disposition of another period to challenge his title to the name of philosopher. The " Es- say " is a small book, written in a homely, business-like style, without affectation of depth or pretence of learning, but it is charged with original mental force. Exhaus- tive it was not ; exhaustive it could not have been. The England of the seventeenth century was not favorable to original researches in that field. The "Essay" was planned in 1670, completed after considerable interrup- tions in 1687, and published in 1690. To one acquainted with the phases through which England was passing at that period, these dates will tell of untoward influences that might account for graver deficiencies than char- GERMANY. 5 acterize Locke's work. The scholastic philosophy, from which Locke broke contemptuously away at Oxford, seems to have left no mark on his mind ; but the contemptuous revulsion, and the naked self-reliance in which the saga- cious but not generously cultivated man found refuge, probably roughened his speculative sensibility, and made it impossible for him to handle with perfect nicety the more delicate facts of his science. It can hardly be claimed that Locke was endowed by nature with philo- sophical genius of the highest order. While at Oxford he abandoned philosophy, in disgust, for medicine, and distinguished himself there by judgment and penetra- tion. Subsequently his attention was turned to politics, anrother pursuit even less congenial with introspective genius. These may not be the reasons for the " incom- pleteness " which so glowing a eulogist as Mr. George H. Lewes admits in the " Essay;" but at all events, whatever the reasons may have been, the incompleteness was felt ; the debate over the author's meaning was an open proclamation of it ; at the close of a century it was apparent to at least one mind that Locke's attempt must be repeated, and his work done over again more carefully The man who came to this conclusion and was moved to act on it was Immanuel Kant, born at Konigsberg, in Prussia, April 22d, 1724; died there February 12th, 1804. His was a life rigorously devoted to philosophy. He inherited from his parents a love of truth, a respect for moral worth, and an intellectual integrity which his precursor in England did not more than match. He was a master in the sciences, a proficient in languages, 6 TRANSCENDENTALISM. a man cultivated in literature, a severe student, of the German type, whose long, calm, peaceful years were spent in meditation, lecturing and writing. He was dis- tinguished as a mathematician before he was heard of as a philosopher, having predicted the existence of the planet Uranus before Herschel discovered it. He was forty- five years old when these trained powers were brought to bear on the study of the human mind : he was sixty- seven when the meditation was ended. His book, the " Critique of Pure Reason," was the result of twelve years of such thinking as his genius and training made him capable of. In what spirit and with what hope he went about his task, appears in the Introduction and the Prefaces to the editions of 1781 and 1787. In these'he frankly opens his mind in regard to the condition of phi- losophical speculation. That condition he describes as one of saddest indifference. The throne of Metaphys- ics was vacant, and its former occupant was a wanderer, cast off by the meanest of his subjects. Locke had, started a flight of hypotheses, which had frittered his force away and made his effort barren of definite result. Theories had been suggested and abandoned ; the straw had been thrashed till only dust remained ; and unless a new method could be hit on, the days of mental philos- ophy might be considered as numbered. The physical sciences would take advantage of the time, enter the de- serted house, secure possession, and set up their idols in the ancient shrine. These sciences, it was admitted, command and deserve unqualified respect. To discover the secret of their sue- GERMANY. 7 cess Kant passed in review their different systems, ex- amined them in respect to their principles and conditions of progress, with a purpose to know what, if any, essential difference there might be between them and the metaphysics which had from of old claimed to be, and had the name of being, a science. Logic, mathematics, physics, are sciences : by virtue of what inherent peculi- arity do they claim superior right to that high appella- tion ? Intellectual philosophy has always been given over to conflicting parties. Its history is a history of controversies, and of controversies that resulted in no triumph for either side, established no doctrine, and re- claimed no portion of truth. Material philosophy has made steady advances from the beginning ; its disputes have ended in demonstrations, its contests have resulted in the establishment of legitimate authority : if its prog- ress has been slow it has been continuous ; it has never receded ; and its variations from a straight course are insignificant when surveyed from a position that com- mands its whole career. Since Aristotle, logic has, without serious impedi- ment or check, matured its rules and methods. Holding the same cardinal positions as in Aristotle's time, it has simply made them stronger, the rules being but inter- pretations of rational principles, the methods following precisely the indications of the human mind, which from the nature of the case remain always the same. The mathematics, again, have had their periods of uncertainty and conjecture. But since the discovery of the essential properties of the triangle, the career has 8 TRANSCENDENTALISM. been uninterrupted. The persistent study of constant properties, which were not natural data, but mental con- ceptions formed by the elimination of variable quantities, led to results which had not to be abandoned. It was the same with physics. The physics of the an- cients were heaps of conjecture. The predecessors of Galileo abandoned conjecture, put themselves face to face with Nature, observed and classified phenomena, but possessed no method by which their labors could be made productive of cumulative results. But after Galileo had experimented with balls of a given weight on an inclined plane, and Torricelli had pushed upward a weight equal to a known column of water, and Stahl had reduced met- als to lime and transformed lime back again into metal, by the addition and subtraction of certain parts, the naturalists carried a torch that illumined their path. They perceived that reason lays her own plans, takes the initiative with her own principles, and must compel nature to answer her questions, instead of obsequiously following its leading-string. It was discovered that scattered observations, made in obedience to no fixed plan, and associated with no necessary law, could not be brought into systematic form. The discovery of such a law is a necessity of reason. Reason presents herself be- fore nature, holding in one hand the principles which alone have power to bring into order and harmony the phenomena of nature ; in the other hand grasping the results of experiment conducted according to those prin- ciples. Reason demands knowledge of nature, not as a docile pupil who receives implicitly the master's word, GERMANY. 9 but as a judge who constrains witnesses to reply to ques- tions put to them by the court. To this attitude are due the happy achievements in physics ; reason seeking — ■ not fancying— in nature, by conformity with her own rules, what nature ought to teach, and what of herself she could not learn. Thus physics became established upon the solid basis of a science, after centuries of error and groping. Wherefore now, asks Kant, are metaphysics so far be- hind logic, mathematics, and physics ? Wherefore these heaps of conjecture, these vain attempts at solution ? Wherefore these futile lives of great men, these abortive flights of genius ? The study of the mind is not an arbi- trary pursuit, suggested by vanity and conducted by caprice, to be taken up idly and relinquished at a mo- ment's notice. The human mind cannot acquiesce in a judgment that condemns it to barrenness and indifference in respect to such questions as God, the Soul, the World, the Life to Come ; it is perpetually revising and reversing the decrees pronounced against itself. It must accept the conditions of its being. From a review of the progress of the sciences it appeared to Kant that their advance was owing to the elimination of the variable elements, and the steady con- templation of the elements that are invariable and con- stant, the most essential of which is the contribution made by the human mind. The laws that are the basis of logic, of the mathematics, and of the higher physics, and that give certitude to these sciences, are simply the laws of the human mind itself. Strictly speaking, then, io TRANSCENDENTALISM. it is in the constitution of the human mind, irrespective of outward objects and the application of principles to them, that we must seek the principle of certitude. Thus far in the history of philosophy the human mind had not been fairly considered. Thinkers had concerned themselves with the objects of knowledge, not with the mind that knows. They had collected facts ; they had constructed systems ; they had traced connections ; they had drawn conclusions. Few had defined the relations of knowledge to the human mind. Yet to do that seemed the only way to arrive at certainty, and raise metaphysics to the established rank of physics, mathe- matics, and logic. Struck with this idea, Kant undertook to transfer con- templation from the objects that engaged the mind to the mind itself, and thus start philosophy on a new career. He meditated a fresh departure, and proposed to effect in metaphysics a revolution parallel with that which Copernicus effected in astronomy. As Copernicus, find- ing it impossible to explain the movements of the heav- enly bodies on the supposition of their turning round the globe as a centre, bethought him to posit the sun as a centre, round which the earth with other heavenly bodies turned — so Kant, perceiving the confusion that re- sulted from making man a satellite of the external world, resolved to try the effect of placing him in the position of central sway. Whether this pretension was justifiable or not, is not a subject of inquiry here. They may be right who sneer at it as a fallacy ; they may be right who ridicule it as a conceit. We are historians, not critics. GERMANY. 1 1 That Kant's position was as has been described, admits of no question. That he built great expectations on his method is certain. He anticipated from it the overthrow of hypotheses which, having no legitimate title to author- ity, erected themselves to the dignity of dogmas, and assumed supreme rank in the realm of speculation. That it would be the destruction of famous demonstrations, and would reduce renowned arguments to naught, might be foreseen ; but in the place of pretended demonstrations, he was confident that solid ones would be established, and arguments that were merely specious would give room to arguments that were profound. Schools might be broken up, but the interests of the human race would be secured. At first it might appear as if cardinal beliefs of mankind must be menaced with extinction as the ancient supports one after another fell ; but as soon as the new foundations were disclosed it was anticipated that faith would revive, and the great convictions would stand more securely than ever. Whatever of truth the older systems had contained would receive fresh and trust- worthy authentication ; the false would be expelled ; and a method laid down by which new discoveries in the intellectual sphere might be confidently predicted. In this spirit the author of the transcendental philoso- phy began, continued, and finished his work. The word " transcendental " was not new in philoso- phy. The Schoolmen had used it to describe whatever could not be comprehended in or classified under the so- called categories of Aristotle, who was the recognized prince of the intellectual world. These categories were 1 2 TRANSCENDENTALISM. ten in number : Quantity, Quality, Relation, Action, Pas- sion, The Where, The When, Position in Space, Posses- sion, Substance. Four things were regarded by the Schoolmen as transcending these mental forms — namely, Being, Truth, Unity, Goodness. It is hardly necessary to say that the Transcendentalism of modern times owed very little to these distinctions, if it owed anything to them. Its origin was not from thence ; its method was so dissimilar as to seem sharply opposed. The word " transcendental" has become domesticated in science. Transcendental anatomy inquires into the idea, the original conception or model on which the organic frame of animals is built, the unity of plan dis- cernible throughout multitudinous genera and orders. Transcendental curves are curves that cannot be defined by algebraic equations. Transcendental equations ex- press relations between transcendental qualities. Trans- cendental physiology treats of the laws of development and function, which apply, not to particular kinds or classes of organisms, but to all organisms. In the ter- minology of Kant the term " transcendent " was em- ployed to designate qualities that lie outside of all " experience," that cannot be brought within the recog- nized formularies of thought, cannot be reached either by observation or reflection, or explained as the conse- quences of any discoverable antecedents. The term "transcendental" designated the fundamental concep- tions, the universal and necessary judgments, which transcend the sphere of experience, and at the same time impose the conditions that make experience trib- GERMANY. 13 utary to knowledge. The transcendental philosophy is the philosophy that is built on these necessary and universal principles, these primary laws of mind, which are the ground of absolute truth. The supremacy given to these and the authority given to the truths that result from them entitle the philosophy to its name. " I term all cognition transcendental which concerns itself not so much with objects,- as with our mode of cognition of objects so far as this may be possi- ble a. priori. A system of such conceptions would be called Transcendental Philosophy." II. TRANSCENDENTALISM IN GERMANY. KANT. THERE is no call to discuss here the system of Kant, or even to describe it in detail. The means of studying the system are within easy reach of English readers.* Our concern is to know the method which Kant em- ployed, and the use he made of it, the ground he took and the positions he held, so far as this can be indi- cated within reasonable compass, and without becoming involved in the complexity of the author's metaphysics. The Critique of Pure Reason is precisely what the title imports — a searching analysis of the human mind ; an attempt to get at the ultimate grounds of thought, to discover the a priori principles. " Reason is the faculty which furnishes the principles of cognition a priori. Therefore pure reason is that which contains the principles of knowing something, absolutely a priori. An organon of pure reason would be a summaiyof * See Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, London, 1838 ; Morell's History of Modern Philosophy ; Chalybaus' Historical Development of Specu- lative Philosophy from Kant to Plegel ; Lewes' Biographical History of Philosophy ; Cousin's Lecons, CEuvres, i ere serie, vol. 5, give a clear ac- count of Kant's philosophy. GERMANY. 15 these principles, according to which all pure cognition a priori can be obtained, and really accomplished. The extended application of such an organon would furnish a system of pure reason." The problem of modern philosophy may be thus stated : Have we or have we not ideas that are trite of necessity, and absolutely ? Are there ideas that can fairly be pronounced independent in their origin of expe- rience, and out of the reach of experience by their nature ? One party contended that all knowledge was derived from experience ; that there was noth- ing in the intellect that had not previously been in the senses : the opposite party maintained that a portion, at least, of knowledge came from the mind itself; that the intellect contained powers of its own, and impressed its forms upon the phenomena of sense. The extreme doctrine of the two schools was repre- sented, on the one side by the materialists, on the other by the mystics. Between these two extremes various degrees of compromise were offered. The doctrine of innate ideas, ascribed to Descartes, — though he abandoned it as untenable in its crude form, — affirmed that certain cardinal ideas, such as causality, infinity, substance, eternity, were native to the mind, born in it as part of its organic constitution, wholly independent therefore of experience. Locke claimed for the mind merely a power of reflection by which it was able to modify and alter the material given by the senses, thus exploding the doctrine of innate ideas. Leibnitz, anxious to escape the danger into which 1 6 TRANS CENDENTALISM. Descartes fell, of making the outward world purely phenomenal, an expression of unalterable thought, and also to escape the consequences of Locke's position that all knowledge originates in the senses, suggested that the understanding itself was independent of expe- rience, that though it did not contain ideas like a vessel, it was entitled to be called a power of forming ideas, which have, as in mathematics, a character of necessary truths. These necessary laws of the understanding, which experience had no hand in creating, are, accord- ing to Leibnitz, the primordial conditions of human knowledge. Hume, taking Locke at his word, that all knowledge came from experience, that the mind was a passive recipient of impressions, with no independent intellect- ual substratum, reasoned that mind was a fiction ; and taking Berkeley at his word that the outward world had no material existence, and no apparent existence except to our perception, he reasoned that matter was a fiction. Mind and matter both being fictions, there could be no certain knowledge ; truth was unattainable ; ideas were illusions. The opposing schools of philosophers anni- hilated each other, and the result was scepticism. Hume started Kant on his long and severe course of investigation, the result of which was, that neither of the antagonist parties could sustain itself : that Descartes was wrong in asserting that such abstract ideas as causal- ity, infinity, substance, time, space, are independent of experience, since without experience they would not exist, and experience takes from them form only ; that GERMANY. 1 7 Locke was wrong in asserting that all ideas originated in experience, and were resolvable into it, since the ideas of causality, substance, infinity and others cer- tainly did not so originate, and were not thus resolvable.. It is idle to dispute whether knowledge comes from one source or another — from without* through sensation, or from within through intuition ; the everlasting battle between idealism and realism, spiritualism and material- ism, can never result in victory to either side. Mind and universe, intelligence and experience, suppose each other; neither alone is operative to produce knowledge. Knowledge is the product of their mutual co-operation. Mind does not originate ideas, neither does sensation impart them. Object and subject, sterile by themselves, become fruitful by conjunction. There are not two sources of knowledge, but one only, and that one is produced by the union of the two apparent opposites. Truth is the crystallization, so to speak, that results from the combined elements. Let us follow the initial steps of Kant's analysis. Mind and Universe — Subject and Object — Ego and Non- ego, stand opposite one another, front to front. Mind is conscious only of its own operations : the subject alone considers. The first fact noted is, that the subject is sensitive to impressions made by outward things, and is receptive of them. Dwelling on this fact, we discover that while the impressions are many in number and of great variety, they all, whatever their character, fall within certain inflexible and unalterable conditions — those of space and time — which must, therefore, be re- 1 8 TRANSCENDENTALISM. garded as pre-established forms of sensibility. " Time is no empirical conception which can be deduced from experience. Time is a necessary representation which lies at the foundation of all intuitions. Time is given a priori. In it alone is any reality of phenomena possi- ble. These disappear, but it cannot be annihilated." So of space. " Space is an intuition, met with in us a priori, antecedent to any perception of objects, a pure, not an empirical intuition." These two forms of sensi- bility, inherent and invariable, to which all experiences are subject, are primeval facts of consciousness. Kant's argument on the point whether or no space and time have an existence apart from the mind, is interesting, but need not detain us. The materials furnished by sensibility are taken up by the understanding, which classifies, interprets, judges, compares, reduces to unity, eliminates, converts, and thus fashions sensations into conceptions, transmutes im- pressions into thoughts. Here fresh processes of analy- sis are employed in classifying judgments, and determin- ing their conditions. All judgments, it is found, must conform to one of four invariable conditions. I. Quan- tity, which may be subdivided into unity, plurality, and totality : the one, the many, the whole. II. Quality, which is divisible as reality, negation, and limitation : something, nothing, and the more or less. III. Relation, which also comprises three heads : substance and acci- dent, cause and effect, reciprocity, or action and reac- tion. IV. Modality, which embraces the possible and the impossible, the existent and the non-existent, the GERMANY. 19 necessary and the contingent. These categories, as they were called, after the terminology of Aristotle, were sup- posed to exhaust the forms of conception. Having thus arrived at conceptions, thoughts, judg- ments, another faculty comes in to classify the concep- tions, link the thoughts together, reduce the judgments to general laws, draw inferences, fix conclusions, proceed from the particular to the general, recede from the gen- eral to the particular, mount from the conditioned to the unconditioned, till it arrives at ultimate principles. This faculty is reason, — the supreme faculty, above sensi- bility, above understanding. Reason gives the final gen- eralization, the idea of a universe comprehending the infinitude of details presented by the senses, and the worlds of knowledge shaped by the understanding ; the idea of a personality embracing the infinite complexities of feeling, and gathering under one dominion the realms of consciousness ; the idea of a supreme unity combin- ing in itself both the other ideas ; the absolute perfec- tion, the infinite and eternal One, which men describe by the word God. Here the thinker rested. His search could be carried no further He had, as he believed, established the in- dependent dominion of the mind, had mapped out its confines, had surveyed its surface ; he had confronted the idealist with the reality of an external world ; he had confronted the sceptic with laws of mind that were independent of experience ; and, having done so much, he was satisfied, and refused to move an inch beyond the ground he occupied. To those who applied to him 20 TRANSCENDENTALISM. for a system of positive doctrines, or for ground on which a system of positive doctrines could be erected, he declined to give aid. The mind, he said, cannot go out of itself, cannot transgress its own limits. It has no faculty by which it can perceive things as they are ; no vision to behold objects corresponding to its ideas ; no power to bridge over the gulf between its own con- sciousness and a world of realities existing apart from it. Whether there be a spiritual universe answering to our conception, a Being justifying reason's idea of su- preme unity, a soul that can exist in an eternal, super- sensible world, are questions the philosopher declined to discuss. The contents of his own mind were v revealed to him, no more. Kant laid the foundations, he built no structure. He would not put one stone upon another ; he declared it to be beyond the power of man to put one stone upon another. The attempts which his earnest disciples — Fichte, for example — made to erect a temple on his foundation he repudiated. As the existence of an external world, though a necessary postulate, could not be demonstrated, but only logi- cally affirmed ; so the existence of a spiritual world of substantial entities corresponding to our concep- tions, though a necessary inference, could only be logically affirmed, not demonstrated. Our idea of God is no proof that God exists. That there is a God may be an irresistible persuasion, but it can be nothing more ; it cannot be knowledge. Of the facts of consciousness, the reality of the ideas in the mind, we may be certain ; our belief in them is clear and GERMANY. 2 1 solid ; but from belief in them there is no bridge to them . Kant asserted the veracity of consciousness, and de- manded an absolute acknowledgment of that veracity. The fidelity of the mind to itself was a first principle with him. Having these ideas, of the soul, of God, of a moral law ; being certain that they neither originated in experience, nor depended on experience for their valid- ity ; that they transcended experience altogether — man was committed to an unswerving and uncompromising loyalty to himself. His prime duty consisted in defer- ence to the integrity of his own mind. The laws of his intellectual and moral nature were inviolable. Whether there was or was not a God ; whether there was or was not a substantial world of experience where the idea of rectitude could be realized, the dictate of duty justified, the soul's affirmation of good ratified by actual felicity, — rectitude was none the less incumbent on the rational mind ; the law of duty was none the less imperative ; the vision of good none the less glorious and inspiring. Virtue had its principle in the constitution of the mind itself. Every virtue had there its seat. There was no sweetness of purity, no heroism of faith, that had not an abiding-place in this impregnable fortress. Thus, while on the speculative side Kant came out a sceptic in regard to the dogmatic beliefs of mankind, on the practical side he remained the fast friend of intel- lectual truth and moral sanctity. Practical ethics never had a more stanch supporter than Immanuel Kant. If a man cannot pass beyond the confines of his own 2 2 TRANS CENDENTALISM. mind, he has, at all events, within his own mind a temple, a citadel, a home. The " Critique of Pure Reason" made no impression on its first appearance. But no sooner was its signifi- cance apprehended, than a storm of controversy be- trayed the fact that even the friends of the new teacher were less content than he was to be shut up in their own minds. The calm, passionless, imperturbable man smoked his pipe in the peace of meditation ; eager thinkers, desirous of getting more out of the system than its author did, were impatient at his backwardness, and made the intellectual world ring with their calls to improve upon and complete his task. The publication of Kant's great work did not put an end to the wars of philosophy. On the contrary, they raged about it more furiously than ever. As the two schools found in Locke fresh occasion for renewing their strife under the cover of trrat great name, so here again the latent elements of discord were discovered and speedily brought to the surface. The sceptics seized on the sceptical bearings of the new analysis, and proceed- ed to build their castle from the materials it furnished ; the idealists took advantage of the positions gained by the last champion, and pushed their lines forward in the direction of transcendental conquest. We are not called on to follow the sceptics, however legitimate their course, and we shall but indicate the progress made by the idealists, giving their cardinal principles, as we have done those of their master. GERMANY. 23 JACOBI. The first important step in the direction of pure transcendentalism was taken by Frederick Henry Jacobi, who was born at Diisseldorf, January 25, 1743- He was a man well educated in philosophy, with a keen interest in the study of it, though not a philosopher by profession, or a systematic writer on metaphysical sub- jects. His position was that of a civilian who devoted the larger part of his time to the duties of a public office under the government. His writings consist mainly of letters, treatises on special points of metaphysical inquiry, and articles in the philosophical journals. His official position gave repute to the productions of his pen, and the circumstance of his being, not an amateur precisely, but a devotee of philosophy for the love of it and not as a professional business, imparted to his speculation the freshness of personal feeling/ His ardent temperament, averse to scepticism, and touched with a mystical enthu- siasm, rebelled against the formal and deadly precision of the analytical method, and sought a way out from the intellectual bleakness of the Kantean metaphysics into the sunshine and air of a living spiritual world. The critics busied themselves with mining and sapping the foundations of consciousness as laid by the philosopher of Konigsberg, who, they complained, had been too easy in conceding the necessity of an outward world. Jacobi accepted with gratitude the intellectual basis afforded, and proceeded to erect thereupon his observatory for studying the heavens Though not the originator of the 24 TRANSCENDENTALISM. " Faith Philosophy," as it was called, he became the finisher and the best known expositor of it. " Since the time of Aristotle," he said, " it has been the effort of philosophical schools to rank direct and immediate knowledge below mediate and indirect ; to subordinate the capacity for original perception to the capacity for reflection on abstract ideas ; to make intuition secondary to understanding, the sense of essential things to defini- tions. Nothing is accepted that does not admit of being proved by formal and logical process, so that, at last, the result is looked for there, and there only. The validity of intuition is disallowed." Jacobi's polemics were directed therefore against the systems of Spinoza, Leibnitz, Wolf — in a word against all systems that led to scepticism and dogmatism ; and his positive efforts were employed in constructing a system of Faith. His key-word was " Faith," by which he meant intuition, the power of gazing immediately on essential truth ; an intellectual faculty which he finally called Reason, by which supersensual objects become visible, as material objects become visible to the physical eye; an inward sense, a spiritual eye, that "gives evi- dence of things not seen and substance to things hoped for ; " a faculty of vision to which truths respecting God, Providence, Immortality, Freedom, the Moral Law, are palpably disclosed. Kant had pronounced it impos- sible to prove that the transcendental idea had a corre- sponding reality as objective being. Jacobi declared that no such proof was needed; that the reality was neces- sarily assumed. Kant had denied the existence of any GERMANY. 25 faculty that could guarantee the existence of either a sen- sual or a supersensual world. Jacobi was above all else certain that such a faculty there was, that it was alto- gether trustworthy, and that it actually furnished mate- rial for religious hope and spiritual life : the only possible material, he went on to say ; for without this capacity of intuition, philosophy could be in his judgment noth- ing but an insubstantial fabric, a castle in the air, a thing of definitions and terminologies, a shifting body of hot and cold vapor. This, it will be observed, seemed a legitimate conse- quence of Kant's method. Kant had admitted the sub- jective reality of sensible impressions, and had claimed a similar reality for our mental images of supersensible things He allowed the validity as conceptions, the practi- cal validity, of the ideas of God, Duty, Immortality. Ja- cobi contended that having gone so far, it was lawful if not compulsory to go farther ; that the subjective reality implied an objective reality ; that the practical inference was as valid as any logical inference could be ; and that through the intuition of reason the mind was placed again in a living universe of divine realities. Chalybaus says of Jacobi : " With deep penetration he traced the mystic fountain of desire after the highest and best, to the point where it discloses itself as an im- mediate feeling in consciousness ; that this presentiment was nothing more than Kant said it was — a faint mark made by the compressing chain of logic, he would not allow ; he described it rather as the special endowment and secret treasure of the human mind, which he that 2 26 TRANSCENDENTALISM. would not lose it must guard against the touch of evil- minded curiosity ; for whoever ventures into this sanc- tuary with the torch of science, will fare as did the youth before the veiled image at Sais." And again: "This point, that a self-subsisting truth must correspond to the conscious idea, that the subject must have an object which is personal like itself, is the ore that Jacobi was intent on extracting from the layers of consciousness : he disclosed it only in part, but unsatisfactory as his ex- position was to the stern inquisition of science, his pur- pose was so strong, his aim so single, we cannot wonder that, in spite of the outcry and the scorn against his ' Faith or Feeling Philosophy,' his thought survived, and even entered on a new career in later times. It must, however, be confessed that instead of following up his clue, speculative fashion, he laid down his undevel- oped theorem as an essential truth, above speculation, declaring that speculation must end in absolute idealism, which was but another name for nihilism and fatalism. Jacobi made his own private consciousness a measure for the human mind." At the close of his chapter, Chalybaus quotes Hegel's verdict, expressed in these words: "Jacobi resembles a solitary thinker, who, in his life's morning, finds an ancient riddle hewn in the primeval rock ; he believes that the riddle contains a truth, but he tries in vain to discover it. The day long he carries it about with him ; entices weighty suggestions from it ; displays it in shapes of teaching and imagery that fascinate listeners, inspiring noblest wishes and an- ticipations : but the interpretation eludes him, and at GERMANY. 2 7 evening he lays him down in the hope that a celestial dream or the next morning's waking will make articulate the word he longs for and has believed in." FICHTE. The transcendental philosophy received from Jacobi an impulse toward mysticism. From another master it received an impulse toward heroism. This master was Johann Gottlieb Fichte, born at Rammenau, in Upper Lusatia, on the 19th of May, 1762. A short memoir of him by William Smith, published in 1845, with a trans- lation of the " Nature of the Scholar," and reprinted in Boston, excited a deep interest among people who had neither sympathy with his philosophy nor intelligence to comprehend it. He was a great mind, and a greater character — sensitive, proud, brave, determined, enthusi- astic, imperious, aspiring; a mighty soul; " a cold, colossal, adamantine spirit, standing erect and clear, like a Cato Major among degenerate men ; fit to have been the teacher of theStoa, and to have discoursed of beauty and virtue in the groves of Academe ! So robust an in- tellect, a soul so calm, so lofty, massive, and immovable, has not mingled in philosophical discussion since the time of Luther. For the man rises before us amid contra- diction and debate like a granite mountain amid clouds and winds. As a man approved by action and suffer- ing, in his life and in his death, he ranks with a class of men who were common only in better ages than ours." 28 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Thus wrote Thomas Carlyle of him more than a gen- eration ago. The direction given to philosophy by such a man could not but be decided and bold. His short treatises, all marked by intellectual power, some by glowing elo- quence, carried his thoughts bey.ond the philosophical circle and spread his leading principles far beyond the usual speculative lines. " The Destination of Man," " The Vocation of the Scholar," l * The Nature of the Scholar," "The Vocation of Man," "The Character- istics of the Present Age," " The Way towards the Blessed Life," were translated into English, published in the " Catholic Series " of John Chapman, and exten- sively read. The English reviewers helped to make the author and his ideas known to many readers. The contribution that Fichte made to the transcenden- tal philosophy may be described without using many words. He became acquainted with Kant's system in Leipsic, where he was teaching, in 1790. The effect it had on him is described in letters to his friends. To one he wrote : " The last four or five months which I have passed in Leipsic have been the happiest of my life ; and the most satisfactory part of it is, that I have to thank no man for the smallest ingredient in its pleasures. When I came to Leipsic my brain swarmed with great plans. All were wrecked ; and of so many soap-bubbles there now remains not even the light froth that composed them. This disturbed a little my peace of mind, and half in despair I joined a party to which I should long ere this have belonged. Since I could not GERMANY. 29 alter my outward condition, I resolved on internal change. I threw myself into philosophy, and, as you know, the Kantean. Here I found the remedy for my ills, and joy enough to boot. The influence of this phi- losophy, the moral part of it in particular (which, how- ever, is unintelligible without previous study of the ' Cri- tique of Pure Reason '), on the whole spiritual life, and especially the revolution it has caused in my own mode of thought, is indescribable." To another he wrote in similar strain: iS l have lived in a new world since reading the ' Critique of Pure Reason.' Principles I believed irrefragable are refuted ; things I thought could never be proved — the idea of absolute freedom, of duty, for example — are demonstrated ; and I am so much the happier. It is indescribable what respect for humanity, what power this system gives us. What a blessing to an age in which morality was torn up by the roots, and the word duty blotted out of the dictionary!" To Johanna Rahn he expresses himself in still heartier terms : " My scheming mind has found rest at last, and I thank Providence that shortly before all my hopes were frustrated I was placed in a position which enabled me to bear the disappointment with cheerfulness. A circum- stance that seemed the result of mere chance induced me to devote myself entirely to the study of the Kantean philosophy— a philosophy that restrains the imagination, always too strong with me, gives reason sway, and raises the soul to an unspeakable height above all earthly concerns. I have accepted a nobler morality, and in- stead of busying myself with outward things, I concern 3° TRANSCENDENTALISM. myself more with my own being. It has given me a peace such as I never before experienced ; amid uncer- tain worldly prospects I have passed my happiest days. It is difficult beyond all conception, and stands greatly in need of simplification. . . . The first elements are hard speculations, that have no direct bearing on human life, but their conclusions are most important for an age whose morality is corrupted at the fountain head ; and to set these consequences before the world would, I be- lieve, be doing it a good service. I am now thoroughly convinced that the human will is free, and that to be happy is not the purpose of our being, but to deserve // happiness." So great was Fichte's admiration of Kant's system, that he became at once an expositor of its prin- ciples, in the hope that he might render it intelligible and attractive to minds of ordinary culture. Fichte considered himself a pure Kantean, perhaps the only absolutely consistent one there was ; and that he did so is not surprising ; for, in mending the master's positions, he seemed to be strengthening them against assault. He did not, like Jacobi, draw inferences which Kant had laboriously, and, as it seemed, effectually cut off; he merely entrenched himself within the lines the philosopher of KOnigsberg had drawn. Kant had, so his critics charged, taken for granted the reality of our ' perceptions of outward things. This was the weak point in his system, of which his adversaries took advantage. On this side he allowed empiricism to construct his wall, and left incautiously an opening which the keen-sighted foe perceived at once. Fichte bethought him to fortify GERMANY. 31 that point, and thus make the philosophy unassailable ; to take it, in fact, out of the category of a philosophical system, and give it the character of a science. To this end, with infinite pains and incredible labor, he tested the foundations to discover the fundamental and final facts which rested on the solid rock. The ultimate facts of consciousness were in question. Fichte accepted without hesitation the confinement within the limits of consciousness against which Jacobi rebelled, and proceeded to make the prison worthy of such an occupant. The facts of consciousness, he ad- mitted, are all we have. The states and activities of the mind, perceptions, ideas, judgments, sentiments, or by whatever other name they may be called, constitute, by his admission, all our knowledge, and beyond them we cannot go. They are, however, solid and substantial. Of the outward world he knew nothing and had nothing to say ; he was not concerned with that. The mind is the man ; the history of the mind is the man's history; the processes of the mind report the whole of experience ; the phenomena of the external universe are mere phe- nomena, reflections, so far as we know, of our thought ; the mountains, woods, stars, are facts of consciousness, to which we attach these names. To infer that they exist because we have ideas of them, is illegitimate in philoso- phy. The ideas stand by themselves, and are sufficient of themselves. The mind is first, foremost, creative and supreme. It takes the initiative in all processes. . He that assumes the existence of an external world does so on the author- 32 , TRANSCENDENTALISM ity of consciousness. If he says that consciousness com- pels us to assume the existence of such a world, that it is so constituted as to imply the realization of its con- ception, still we have simply the fact of consciousness ; power to verify the relation between this inner fact and a corresponding physical representation, there is none. Analyze the facts of consciousness as much as we may, revise them, compare them, we are still within their circle and cannot pass beyond its limit. Is it urged that the existence of an external world is a necessary postu- late ? The same reply avails, namely, that the idea of ne- cessity is but one of our ideas, a conception of the mind, an inner notion or impression which legitimates itself alone. Does the objector further insist, in a tone of ex- asperation caused by what seems to him quibbling, that in this case consciousness plays us false, makes a prom- ise to the ear which it breaks to the hope— lies, in short ? The imperturbable philosopher sets aside the insinua- tion as an impertinence. The fact of consciousness, he maintains, stands and testifies for itself. It is not an- swerable for anything out of its sphere. In saying what it does it speaks the truth ; the whole truth, so far as we can determine. Whether or no it is absolutely the whole truth, the truth as it lies in a mind otherwise con- stituted, is no concern of ours. The reasoning by which Fichte cut off the certainty ot a material world outside of the mind, told with equal force against the objective existence of a spiritual world. The mental vision being bounded by the mental sphere, its objects being there and only there, with them we GERMANY. S3 must be content. The soul has its domain, untrodden forests to explore, silent and trackless ways to follow, mystery to rest in, light to walk by, fountains and floods of living water, starry firmaments of thought, conti- nents of reason, zones of law, and with this domain it must be satisfied. God is one of its ideas ; immortality is another ; that they are anything more than ideas, cannot be known. That the charge of atheism should be brought against so uncompromising a thinker, is a less grave im- putation upon the discernment of his contemporaries than ordinarily it is. That he should have been obliged, in consequence of it, to leave Jena, and seek an asylum in Prussia, need not excite indignation, at least in those who remember his unwillingness or inability to modify his view, or explain the sense in which he called himself a believer. To •' charge " a man with atheism, as if atheism were guilt, is a folly to be ashamed of ; but to " class " a man among atheists who in no sense ac- cepts the doctrine of an intelligent, creative Cause, is just, while language has meaning. And this is Fichte's position. In his philosophy there was no place for as- surance of a Being corresponding to the mental concep- tion. The word " God " with him expressed the category of the Ideal. The world being but the incarnation of our sense of duty, the reflection of the mind, the creator of it is the mind. God, being a reflection of the soul in its own atmosphere, is one of the soul's creations, a shadow on the surface of a pool. The soul creates ; deity is cre- ated. This is not even ideal atheism, like that of Etienne 34 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Vacherot ; it may be much nobler and more inspiring than the recognized forms of theism ; it is dogmatic or speculative atheism only : but that it is, and that it should confess itself. It was natural that Fichte, being perfect master of his thought, should disclaim and resent an imputation which in spirit he felt was undeserved. It was natural that people who were not masters of his thought, and would not have appreciated it if they had been, should judge him by the only definitions they had. Berkeley and Fichte stood at opposite extremes in their Idealism. Berkeley, starting from the theological con- ception of God, maintained that the outward world had a real existence in the supreme mind, being phenomenal only to the human. Fichte, starting from the human mind, contended that it was altogether phenomenal, the supreme mind itself being phantasmal. How came it, some will naturally ask, that such a man escaped the deadly consequences of such resolute intro- spection ? Where was there the indispensable basis for action and reaction ? Life is conditioned by limitation ; the shore gives character to the sea ; the outward world gives character to the man, excites his energy, defines his aim, trains his perception, educates his will, offers a horizon to his hope. The outward world being removed, dissipated, resolved into impalpable thought, what sub- stitute for it can be devised ? Must not the man sink into a visionary, and waste his life in dream ? That Fichte was practically no dreamer, has already been said. The man who closed a severe, stately, and glowing lecture on duty with the announcement — it GERMANY. 35 was in 1813, when the French drums were rattling in the street, at times drowning the speaker's voice — that the course would be suspended till the close of the campaign, and would be resumed, if resumed at all, in a free coun- try, and thereupon, with a German patriot's enthusiasm, rushed himself into the field — this man was no visionary, lost in dreams. The internal world was with him a liv- ing world ; the mind was a living energy ; ideas were things ; principles were verities ; the laws of thought were laws of being. So intense was his feeling of the substantial nature of these invisible entities, that the ob- verse side of them, the negation of them, had all the vis inertia, all the objective validity of external things. He spoke of " absolute limitations," " inexplicable limita- tions," against which the mind pressed as against palpa- ble obstacles, and in pressing against which it acquired tension and vigor. Passing from the realm of specula- tion into that of practice, the obstacles assumed the attributes of powers, the impediments became foes, to be resisted as strenuously as ever soldier opposed soldier in battle. From the strength of this conviction he was enabled to say : " I am well convinced that this life is not a scene of enjoyment, but of labor and toil, and that every joy is granted but to strengthen us for further exertion ; that the control of our fate is not required of us, but only our self-culture. I give myself no concern about external things ; I endeavor to be, not to seem ; I am no man's master, and no man's slave." Fichte was a sublime egoist. In his view, the mind 3 6 'IRANSCENDENTALISM. was sovereign and absolute, capable of spontaneous, self-determined, originating action, having power to pro- pose its own end and pursue its own freely-chosen course ; a live intelligence, eagerly striving after self- development, to fulfil all the possibilities of its nature. Of one thing he was certain — the reality of the rational soul, and in that certainty lay the ground of his tremen- dous weight of assertion. His professional chair was a throne ; his discourses were prophecies ; his tone was the tone of an oracle. It made the blood burn to hear him ; it makes the blood burn at this distance to read his printed words. To cite a few sentences from his writings in illustration of the man's way of dealing with the great problems of life, is almost a necessity. The following often-quoted but pregnant passage is from " The Destination of Man : " "I understand thee now, spirit sublime ! I have found the organ by which to ap- prehend this reality, and probably all other. It is not knowledge, for knowledge can only demonstrate and establish itself; every kind of knowledge supposes some higher knowledge upon which it is founded ; and of this ascent there is no end. It is faith, that voluntary repose in the ideas that naturally come to us, because through these only we can fulfil our destiny ; which sets its seal on knowledge, and raises to conviction, to certainty, what, without it, might be sheer delusion. It is not knowledge, but a resolve to commit one's self to knowl- edge. No merely verbal distinction this, but a true and deep one, charged with momentous consequences to the whole character. All conviction is of faith, and pro- GERMANY. 37 ceeds from the heart, not from the understanding. Knowing this, I will enter into no controversy, for I foresee that in this way nothing can be gained. I will not endeavor, by reasoning, to press my conviction on others, nor will I be discouraged if such an attempt should fail. My mode of thinking I have adopted for myself, not for others, and to myself only need I justify it. Whoever has the same upright intention will also attain the same or a similar conviction, and without it that is impossible. Now that I know this, I know also from what point all culture of myself and others must proceed ; from the will, and not from the understand- ing. Let but the first be steadily directed toward the good, the last will of itself apprehend the true. Should the last be exercised and developed, while the first re- mains neglected, nothing can result but a facility in vain and endless refinements of sophistry. In faith I possess the test of all truth and all conviction ; truth originates in the conscience, and what contradicts its authority, or makes us unwilling or incapable of rendering obedience to it, is most certainly false, even should I be unable to discover tlie fallacies through which it is reached. What unity, what completeness and dignity, our human nature receives from this view ! Our thought is not based on itself, independently of our in- stincts and inclinations. Man does not consist of two beings running parallel to each other ; he is absolutely one. Our entire system of thought is founded on intui- tion ; as is the heart of the individual, so is his knowl- edge." 38 TRANS C ENDED TALIS M. "The everlasting world now rises before me more brightly, and the fundamental laws of its order are more clearly revealed to my mental vision. The will alone, lying hid from mortal eyes in the obscurest depths of the soul, is the first link in a chain of consequences that stretches through the invisible realm of spirit, as, in this terrestrial world, the action itself, a certain move- ment communicated to matter, is the first link in a material chain that encircles the whole system. The will is the effective cause, the living principle of the world of spirit, as motion is of the world of sense. The will is in itself a constituent part of the transcen- dental world. By my free determination I change and set in motion something in this transcendental world, and my energy gives birth to an effect that is new, per- manent, and imperishable. Let this will find expression in a practical deed, and this deed belongs to the world of sense and produces effects according to the virtue it contains." This is the stoical aspect of the doctrine. The softer side of it appears throughout the book that is entitled 14 The Way towards the Blessed Life." We quote a few passages from the many the eloquence whereof does no more than justice to the depth of sentiment : " Full surely there is a blessedness beyond the grave for those who have already entered on it here, and in no other form than that wherein they know it here, at any moment. By mere burial man arrives not at bliss ; and in the future life, throughout its whole infinite range, they will seek for happiness as vainly as they sought it GERMANY. 39 here, who seek it in aught else than that which so closely surrounds them here — the Infinite." " Religion consists herein, that man in his own per- son, with his own spiritual eye, immediately beholds and possesses God. This, however, is possible through pure independent thought alone ; for only through this does man assume real personality, and this alone is the eye to which God becomes visible. Pure thought is itself the divine existence ; and conversely, the divine exist- ence, in its immediate essence, is nothing else than pure thought." " The truly religious man conceives of his world as action, which, because it is his world, he alone creates, in which alone he can live and find satisfaction. This action he does not will for the sake of results in the world of sense ; he is in no respect anxious in regard to results, for he lives in action simply as action ; he wills it because it is the will of God in him, and his own pe- culiar portion in being." " As to those in whom the will of God is not inwardly accomplished, — because there is no inward life in them, for they are altogether outward, — upon them the will of God is wrought as alone it can be ; app-earing at first sight bitter and ungracious, though in reality merciful and loving in the highest degree. To those who do not love God, all things must work together immediately for pain and torment, until, by means of the tribulation, they are led to salvation at last." Language like this from less earnest lips might be de- ceptive ; but from the lips of a teacher like Fichte it 40 TRANSCENDENTALISM. tells of the solid grandeurs that faithful men possess in the ideal creations of their souls ; the habitableness of air-castles. SCHELLING. The chief sources from which the transcendental philos- ophy came from Germany to America have been indi- cated. The traces of Jacobi and Fichte are broad and distinct on the mind of the New World. Of Schelling little need be said, for his works were not translated into Eng- lish, and the French translation of the " Transcendental Idealism " was not announced till 1850, when the move- ment in New England was subsiding. His system was too abstract and technical in form to interest any but his countrymen. Coleridge was fascinated by it, and yielded to the fascination so far as to allow the thoughts of the German metaphysician to take possession of his mind ; but for Coleridge, indeed, few English-speaking men would have known what the system was. Transcen- dentalism in New England was rather spiritual and prac- tical than metaphysical. Jacobi and Fichte were both ; it can scarcely be said that Schelling was either. His books were hard ; his ideas underwent continual changes in detail ; his speculative system was developed grad- ually in a long course of years. But for certain gran- diose conceptions which had a charm for the imagination and fascinated the religious sentiment, his name need not be mentioned in this little incidental record at all. There was, however, in Schelling something that recalled the GERMANY. 41 ideal side of Plato, more that suggested Plotinus, the neo-Platonists and Alexandrines, a mystical pantheistic quality that mingled- well with the general elements of Idealism, and gave atmosphere, as it were, to the tender feeling of Jacobi and the heroic will of Fichte. Schelling was Fichte's disciple, filled his vacant chair in Jena in 1798, and took his philosophical departure from certain, of his positions. Fichte had shut the man up close in himself, had limited the conception of the world by the boundaries of consciousness, had reduced the inner universe to a full-orbed creation, made its facts substantial and its fancies solid, peopled it with living forces, and found room in it for the exercise of a com- plete moral and spiritual life. In his system the soul was creator. The outer universe had its being in human thought. Subject and object were one, and that one was the subject. Schelling restored the external world to its place as an objective reality, no fiction, no projection from the human mind. Subject and object, in his view, were one, but in the ABSOLUTE, the universal soul, the infinite and eternal mind. His original fire mist was the unorgan- ized intelligence of which the universe was the expression. Finite minds are but phases of manifestation of the in- finite mind, inlets into which it flows, some deeper, wider, longer than others. Spirit and matter are reverse aspects of being. Spirit is invisible nature, nature in- visible spirit. Starting from nature, we may work our way into intelligence ; starting from intelligence, we may work our way out to nature. Thought and existence 42 TRANSCENDENTALISM. having the same ground, ideal and real being one, the work of philosophy is twofold — from nature to ar- rive at spirit, from spirit to arrive at nature. They who wish to know how Schelling did it must consult the histories of philosophy ; the most popular of them will satisfy all but the experts. It is easy to conjecture into what mysterious ways the clue might lead, and in what wilderness of thickets the reader might be lost ; how in mind we are to see nature struggling upward into con- sciousness, and in nature mind seeking endless forms of finite expression. To unfold both processes, in uniform and balanced movement, avoiding pantheism on one side, and materialism on the other, was the endeavor we shall not attempt, even in the most cursory manner, to describe. God becomes conscious in man, the philo- sophic man, the man of reason, in whom the absolute be- ing recognizes himself. The reason gazes immediately on the eternal realities, by virtue of what was called " intellectual intuition," which beholds botrj. subject and object as united in a single thought. Reason was im- personal, no attribute of the finite intelligence, n,o fact of the individual consciousness, but a faculty, if that be the word for it, that transcended all finite experience, commanded a point superior to consciousness, was, in fact, the all-seeing eye confronting itself. What room here for intellectual rovers ! What mystic groves for ecstatic souls to lose themselves in ! What intricate mazes for those who are fond of hunting phantoms ! Flashes of dim glory from this tremendous speculation are seen in the writings of Emerson, Parker, Alcott, and other seers, GERMANY. 43 probably caught by reflection, or struck out, as they were by Schelling himself, by minds moving on the same level. In Germany the lines of speculation were carried out in labyrinthine detail, as, fortunately, they were not elsewhere. Of Hegel, the successor in thought of Schelling, there is no call here to speak at all. His speculation, though influential in America, as influential as that of either of his predecessors, was scarcely known thirty-five years ago, and if it had been, would have possessed little charm for idealists of the New England stamp. That system has borne fruits of a very different quality, being adopted largely by churchmen, whom it has justi- fied and fortified in their ecclesiastical forms, doctrinal and sacramental, and by teachers of moderately progressive tendencies. The duty of unfolding his ideas has de- volved upon students of German, as no other language has given them anything like adequate expression. Hegel, too, w r as more formidable than Schelling ; the latter was brilliant, dashing, imaginative, glowing ; his ideas shone in the air, and were caught with little toil by enthusiastic minds. To comprehend or even to appre- hend Hegel requires more philosophical culture than was found in New England half a century ago, more than is by any means common to-day. Modern specu- lative philosophy is, as a rule, Hegelian. Its spirit is conservative, and it scarcely at all lends countenance to movements so revolutionary as those that shook New England. Long before the time we are dealing with — as early as 44 TRANSCENDENTALISM. 1824 — the philosophy of Hegel had struck hands with church and state in Prussia ; Hegel was at once prophet, priest, and prince. In the fulness of his powers, ripe in ability and in fame, he sat in the chair that Fichte had occupied, and gave laws to the intellectual world. He would " teach philosophy to talk German, as Luther had taught the Bible to do." A crowd of enthusiasts thronged about him. The scientific and literary celebri- ties of Berlin sat at his feet ; state officials attended his lectures and professed themselves his disciples. The government provided liberally for his salary, and paid the travelling expenses .of this great ambassador of the mind. The old story of disciple become master was told again. The philosopher was the friend of those that befriended him ; the servant, some say, of those that lavished on him honors. Then the new philo- sophy that was to reconstruct the mental world learned to accept the actual world as it existed, and lent its powerful aid to the order of things it promised to re- construct. Throwing out the aphorism, " The rational is the actual, the actual is the rational," Hegel de- clared that natural right, morality, and even religion are properly subordinated to authority. The despotic Prussian system welcomed the great philosopher as its defender. The Prussian Government was not tardy in showing appreciation of its advocate's eminent service^ The church, taking the hint, put in its claim to patron- age. It needed protection against the rationalism that was coming up ; and such protection the majesty of He- GERMANY. 45 gel vouchsafed to offer. Faith and philosophy formed a new alliance. Orthodox professors gave in their loy- alty to the man who taught that " God was in process of becoming," and the man who taught that "God was in process of becoming" welcomed the orthodox professors to the circle of his disciples. He was more orthodox than the orthodox ; he gave the theologians new ex- planations of their own dogmas, and supplied them with arguments against their own foes. Trinity, incarnation, atonement, redemption, were all interpreted and justi- fied, to the complete satisfaction of the ecclesiastical powers. This being the influence of the master, and of philoso- phy as he explained it, the formation of a new school by the earnest, liberal men who drew very different con- clusions from the master's first principles, was to be ex- pected. But the " New Hegelians," as they were called, became disbelievers in religion and in spiritual things alto- gether, and either lapsed, like Strauss, into intellectual scepticism, or, like Feuerbach, became aggressive ma- terialists. The ideal elements in Hegel's system were ap- propriated by Christianity, and were employed against liberty and progress. Spiritualists, whether in the old world or the new, had little interest in a philosophy that so readily favored two opposite tendencies, both of which they abhorred. To them the spiritual philosophy was represented by Hegel's predecessors. The disciples of sentiment accepted Jacobi ; the loyalists of conscience followed Fichte ; the severe metaphysicians, of whom there were a few, adhered to Kant ; the soaring specu- 46 TRANSCENDENTALISM. lators and imaginative theosophists spread their " sheeny vans," and soared into the regions of the absolute with Schelling. The idealists of New England were largest debtors to Jacobi and Fichte. III. TRANSCENDENTALISM IN THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE. One of the earliest students of the German language in Boston was Dr. N. L. Frothingham, Unitarian minis- ter of the First Church. Among the professional books that interested him was one by Herder, " Letters to a Young Theologian," chapters from which he translated for the " Christian Disciple," the precursor of the " Chris- tian Examiner." Of Herder, George Bancroft wrote an account in the " North American Review," and George Ripley in the " Christian Examiner." The second number of " The Dial " contains a letter from Mr. Rip- ley to a theological student, in which this particular book of Herder is warmly commended, as being worth the trouble of learning German to read. The volume was remarkable for earnest enlightenment, its discern- ment of the spirit beneath the letter, its generous inter- pretations, and its suggestions of a better future for the philosophy of religion. Herder was one of the illumi- nated minds ; though not professedly a disciple, he had felt the influence of Kant, and was cordially in sympa- thy with the men who were trying to break the spell of form and tradition. With Lessing more especially, Her- der's " Spirit of Hebrew Poetry," of which a translation by Dr. James Marsh was published in 1833, found its 48 TRANSCENDENTALISM. way to New England, and helped to confirm the dispo- sition to seek the springs of inspiration in the human mind, whence all poetry proceeded. The writer of the book, by applying to Hebrew poetry the rules of critical appreciation by which all poetic creations are judged, abolished so far the distinction between sacred and sec- ular, and transferred to the credit of human genius the products commonly ascribed to divine. In the persons of the great bards of Israel all bards were glorified ; the soul's creative power was recognized, and with it the heart of the transcendental faith. The influence of Schleiermacher was even more dis- tinct than that of Herder. One book of his, in particular, made a deep impression, — the " Reden iiber Religion," published in 1799. The book is thus described by Mr. George Ripley, in a controversial letter to Mr. Andrews Norton, who had assailed Schleiermacher as an atheist. " The ' Discourses on Religion ' were not intended to present a system of theology. They are highly rhe- torical in manner, filled with bursts of impassioned elo- quence, always intense, and sometimes extravagant ; addressed to the feelings, not to speculation ; and ex- pressly disclaiming all pretensions to an exposition of doctrine. They were published at a time when hostility to religion, and especially to Christianity as a divine reve- lation, was deemed a proof of talent and refinement. The influence of the church was nearly exhausted ; the highest efforts of thought were of a destructive charac- ter ; a frivolous spirit pervaded society ; religion was deprived of its supremacy ; and a ' starveling theology ' THE OLOGY AND LITER A TURE. 49 was exalted in place of the living word. Schleiermacher could not contemplate the wretched meagreness and degradation of his age without being moved as by ' a heavenly impulse.' His spirit was stirred within him as he saw men turning from the true God to base idols. He felt himself impelled to go forth with the power of a fresh and youthful enthusiasm, for the restoration of re- ligion ; to present it in its most sublime aspect, free from its perversions, disentangled from human speculation, as founded in the essential nature of man, and indispensa- ble to the complete unfolding of his inward being. In order to recognize everything which is really religious among men, and to admit even the lowest degree of it into the idea of religion, he wishes to make this as broad and comprehensive in its character as possible." In illustration of this purpose Mr. Ripley quotes the author as follows : " I maintain that piety is the necessary and spontaneous product of the depths of every elevated nature ; that it possesses a rightful claim to a peculiar province in the soul, over which it may exercise an un- limited sovereignty ; that it is worthy, by its intrinsic power, to be a source of life to the most noble and ex- alted minds ; and that from its essential character it deserves to be known and received by them. These are the points which I defend, and which I would fain estab- lish." From this it will appear that Schleiermacher gave countenance to the spiritual aspect of transcendentalism, and co-operated with the general movement it repre- sented. His position that religion was not a system of 3 50 TRANSCENDENTALISM. dogmas, but an inward experience ; that it was not a speculation, but a feeling ; that its primal verities rested not on miracle or tradition, not on the Bible letter or on ecclesiastical institution, but on the soul's own sense of things divine ; that this sense belonged by nature to the human race, and gave to all forms of religion such genu- ineness as they had ; that all affirmation was partial, and all definition deceptive ; proved to be practically the same with that taken by Jacobi, and was so received by the disciples of the new philosophy. But Schleiermacher was an Evangelical Lutheran, a believer in supernatural religion, in Christ, in Chris- tianity as a special dispensation, in the miracles of the New Testament. So far from being a " rationalist," he was the most formidable opponent that ''rational- ism " had ; for his efforts were directed against the critical and theological method, and in support of the spiritual method of dealing with religious truths. In explaining religion as being in its primitive character a sense of divine things in the soul, and as having its seat, not in knowledge, nor yet in action, neither in theology nor in morality, but in feeling, in aspira- tion, longing, love, veneration, conscious dependence, filial trust, he deprived " rationalism " of its strength. Hence his attraction for liberal orthodox believers in America. Schleiermacher had as many disciples among the Congregationalists as among their antagonists of the opposite school. Professors Edwards and Park included thoughts of his in their " Selections from German Literature." The pulpit transcendentalists THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE. 5 1 acknowledged their indebtedness to him, and the debt they acknowledged was sentimental rather than intel- lectual. They thanked him for the spirit of fervent piety, deep, cordial, human, unlimited in generosity, untram- melled by logical distinctions, rather than for new light on philosophical problems. His bursts of eloquent en- thusiasm over men whom the church outlawed — Spinoza for example — made amends with them for the absence of doctrinal exactness. A warm sympathy with those who detached religion from dogma, and recognized the religious sentiment under its most diverse forms, was characteristic of the new spirit that burned in New England. Schleiermacher was one of the first and fore- most to encourage such sympathy : he based it on the idea that man was by nature religious, endowed with spiritual faculties, and that was welcome tidings ; and though he retained the essence of the evangelical system, he retained it in a form that could be dropped without injury to the principle by which it was justified. Thus Schleiermacher strengthened the very positions he as- sailed, and gave aid and comfort to the enemy he would overthrow. The transcendentalists, it is true, employed against the " rationalists " the weapons that he put into their hands. At the same time they left as unimportant the theological system which his weapons were manu- factured to support. But it was through the literature of Germany that the transcendental philosophy chiefly communicated itself. Goethe, Richter and Novalis were more persuasive teach- ers than Kant, Jacobi or Fichte. To those who could 5 * TRANS CENDENTA L1SM. not read German these authors were interpreted by Thomas Carlyle, who took up the cause of German phi- losophy and literature, and wrote about them with pas- sionate power in the English reviews ; not contenting himself with giving surface accounts of them, but plung- ing boldly into the depths, and carrying his readers with him through discussions that, but for his persuasive elo- quence, would have had little charm to ordinary minds. Goethe and Richter were his heroes : their, methods and opinions are of the greatest account with him ; and he leaves nothing unexplained of the intellectual foundations on which they builded. Consequently in the remarkable papers that Carlyle wrote about them and their books, full report is given of the place held by the Kantean phi- losophy in their culture. The article on Novalis, in Tfre " Foreign Review " of 1829, No. 7, presents with a mas- ter hand the peculiarities of the new metaphysics that were regenerating the German mind. Regenerating is not too strong a word for the influence that he ascribes to it. Thus in 1827 he wrote in the " Edinburgh Review : " "The critical philosophy has been regarded by per- sons of approved judgment, and nowise directly impli- cated in the furthering of it, as distinctly the greatest in- tellectual achievement of the century in which it came to light. August Wilhelm Schlegel has stated in plain terms his belief that in respect of its probable influence on the moral culture of Europe, it stands on a line with the Reformation. We mention Schlegel as a man whose opinion has a known value among ourselves. But the THE OLOGY AND LITER A TURE. 5 3 worth of Kant's philosophy is not to be gathered from votes alone. The noble system of morality, the purer theology, the lofty views of man's nature derived from it ; nay, perhaps the very discussion of such matters, to which it gave so strong an impetus, have told with remarkable and beneficial influence on the whole spiri- tual character of Germany. No writer of any importance in that country, be he acquainted or not with the critical philosophy, but breathes a spirit of devoutness and ele- vation more or less directly drawn from it. Such men as Goethe and Schiller cannot exist without effect in any literature or any century ; but if one circumstance more than another has contributed to forward their endeavors and introduce that higher tone into the literature of Germany, it has been this philosophical system, to which, in wisely believing its results, or even in wisely denying them, all that was lofty and pure in the genius of poetry or the reason of man so readily allied itself." After quoting from " Meister's Apprenticeship " a noble passage on the spiritual function of art, Carlyle comments thus: "To adopt such sentiments into his sober practical persuasion ; in any measure to feel and believe that such was still and must always be, the high vocation of the poet ; on this ground of universal human- ity, of ancient and now almost forgotten nobleness, to take his stand, even in these trivial, jeering, withered, unbelieving days, and through all their complex, dispirit- ing, mean, yet tumultuous influences, to make his light shine before men that it might beautify even our rag- 54 TRANSCENDENTALISM. gathering age with some beams of that mild divine splen- dor which had long left us, the very possibility of which was denied ; heartily and in earnest to meditate all this was no common proceeding ; to bring it into practice, especially in such a life as his has been, was among the highest and hardest enterprises which any man whatever could engage in." From Schiller's correspondence with Goethe, Carlyle quotes the following tribute to the Kantean philosophy : " From the opponents of the new philosophy I expect not that tolerance which is shown to every other system no better seen into than this ; for Kant's philosophy itself, in its leading points, practises no tolerance, and bears much too rigorous a character to leave any room for accommodation. But in my eyes this does it honor, proving how little it can endure to have truth tampered with. Such a philosophy will not be shaken to pieces by a mere shake of the head. In the open, clear, ac- cessible field of inquiry it builds up its system, seeks no shade, makes no reservation, but even as it treats its neighbors, so it requires to be treated, and may be for- given for lightly esteeming everything but proofs. Nor am I terrified to think that the law of change, from which no human and no divine work finds grace, will operate on this philosophy as on every other, and one day its form will be destroyed, but its foundations will not have this fate to fear, for ever since mankind has existed, and any reason among mankind, these same first princi- ples have been admitted, and on the whole, acted on." Of Richter he writes : " Richter's philosophy, a mat- THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE. 55 ter of no ordinary interest, both as it agrees with the common philosophy of Germany, and disagrees with it, must not be touched on for the present. One only ob- servation we shall make : it is not mechanical or scep- tical ; it springs not from the forum or the laboratory, but from the depths of the human spirit, and yields as its fairest product a noble system of morality, and the firm- est conviction of religion. An intense and continual faith in man's immortality and native grandeur accom- panies him ; from amid the vortices of life he looks up to a heavenly loadstar; the solution of what is visible and transient, he finds in what is invisible and eternal. He has doubted, he denies, yet he believes." Of Novalis, scarcely more than a name to Americans, the same oracle speaks thus : " The aim of Novalis' whole philosophy is to preach and establish the majesty of reason, in the strict philosophical sense ; to conquer for it all provinces of human thought, and everywhere resolve its vassal understanding into fealty, the right and only useful relation for it. How deeply these and the like principles (those of the Kantean philosophy) had impressed themselves on Novalis, we see more and more the further we study his writings. Naturally a deep, religious, contemplative spirit, purified also by harsh affliction, and familiar in the ' Sanctuary of Sor- row,' he comes before us as the most ideal of all idealists. For him the material creation is but an appearance, a typical shadow in which the Deity manifests himself to man. Not only has the unseen world a reality, but the only reality ; the rest being not metaphorically, but liter- 56 TRANSCENDENTALISM. ally and in scientific strictness, ' a show ; ' in the words of the poet : ' Sound and smoke overclouding the splendor of heaven ! ' The invisible world is near us ; or rather, it is here, in us and about us ; were the fleshly coil removed from our soul, the glories of the unseen were even now around us, as the ancients fabled of the spheral music. Thus, not in word only, but in truth and sober belief he feels himself encompassed by the Godhead ; feels in every thought that ' in Him he lives, moves, and has his being.' " These declarations from a man who was becoming prominent in the world of literature, and whose papers were widely and enthusiastically read, had great weight with people to whom the German was an unknown tongue. But it was not an unknown tongue to all, and they who had mastered it were active communicators of its treasures. Carlyle's efforts at interesting English readers through his remarkable translation of Wilhelm Meister, and the " Specimens of German Romance," which contained pieces by Tieck, Jean Paul, Hoffmann, and Musseus, published in 1827, were seconded here by F. H. Hedge, C. T. Brooks, J. S. Dwight, and others, who made familiar to the American public the choicest poems of the most famous German bards. Richter became well known by his " Autobiography," " Quintus Fixlein," " Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces," "Hesperus," "Titan," "The Campaner Thai," the writings and versions of Madame de Stael. The third THEOLOGY AND LITERATURE. 57 volume of the " Dial," July, 1841, opened with a re- markable paper on Goethe, by Margaret Fuller. The pages of the " Dial " abounded in references to Goethe's ideas and writings. No author occupied the cultivated New England mind as much as he did. None of these writers taught formally the doctrines of the transcenden- tal philosophy, but they reflected one or another aspect of it. They assumed its cardinal principles in historical and literary criticism, in dramatic art, in poetry and romance. They conveyed its spirit of aspiration after ideal standards of perfection. They caught from it their judgments on society and religion. They communicated its aroma, and so imparted the quickening breath of its soul to people who would have started back in alarm from its doctrines. The influence of the transcendental philosophy on Ger- man literature was fully conceded by Menzel, who, how- ever, found little trace of it in Goethe. Of the author of the philosophy he wrote : " Kant was very far from assenting to French infidelity and itfs immoral conse- quences. He directed man to himself, to the moral law in his own bosom ; and the fresh breath of life of the old Grecian dignity of man penetrates the whole of his lumi- nous philosophy." Of Goethe he wrote : " If he ever acknowledged allegiance to a good spirit, to great ideas, to virtue, he did it only because they had become the order of the day, for, on the other hand, he has, again, served every weakness, vanity and folly, if they were but looked on with favor at the time ; in short, like a good player, he has gone through all the parts." 3* 58 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Menzel's book was translated by a man who had no sym- pathy with Transcendentalism — Prof. C. C. Felton ; was admired by people of his own school, and was sharply criticised, especially in the portions relating to Goethe, by the transcendentalists, who accepted Carlyle's view. He and they put the most generous interpretations on the masterpieces of the poet, passed by as incidental, did not see, or in their own mind transfigured, the objec- tionable features that Menzel seized on. Too little was ascribed to the foreign French element that reached the literature of Germany through Prussia — to Rousseau, Voltaire, Diderot — whose ideas fell in with the unworthier sceptical tendencies of the Kan'tean system, and polluted the waters of that clear, cold stream ; too much was ascribed to the noble idealism that was credited with power to glorify all it touched, and redeem even low things from degradation. If therefore they apologized for what the sensational moralists blamed, they did it in good faith, not as excusing the indecency, but as sur- mounting it. What they admired was the art, and the aspiration it expressed. The devotees of the French spirit, in its frivolity and meretricious beauty, they turned away from with disdain. There was enough of the nobler kind to engage them. When they went to France they went for what France had in common with Germany — an idealism of the wholesome, ethical and spiritual type, which, whether German, French or Eng- lish, bore always the same characteristics of beauty and nobleness. Much that was unspiritual, all that was merely speculative, they passed by. With an appetite THE OLOGY AND LITER A TURE. 5 9 for the generous and inspiring only, they sought the really earnest teachers, of whom in France there were a few. The influence of those few was great in proportion to their fewness probably, quite as much as to their merit as philosophers. IV. TRANSCENDENTALISM IN FRANCE. From the time of Malebranche, who died in 171 5, to Maine de Biran, Royer-Collard, Ampere and Cousin, a period of about a century, philosophy in France had not borne an honorable name. The French mind was active ; philosophy was a profession ; the philosophical world was larger than in Germany, where it was limited to the Universities. But France took no lead in specu- lation, it waited to receive impulse from other lands ; and even then, instead of taking up the impulse and carrying it on with original and sympathetic force, it was content to exhibit and reproduce it. The office of expositor, made easy by the perspicacity of its intellect and the flexibility of its language, was accepted and discharged with a cleverness that was recognized by all Europe. Its histories of philosophy, translations, expositions, reproductions, were admirable for neatness and clearness. The most obscure systems became intel- ligible in that limpid and lucid speech, which reported with faultless dexterity the agile movements of the Gallic mind, and made popular the most abstruse doc- trines of metaphysics. German philosophy in its origi- nal dress was outlandish, even to practised students in German. The readers of French were many in Eng- FRANCE. 6 1 land and the United States, and the readers of French, without severe labor on their part, were put in posses- sion of the essential ideas of the deep thinkers of the race. The best accounts of human speculation are in French. Barthelemy Saint Hilaire interprets Aristotle, and throws important light on Indian Philosophy ; Bouillet translates Plotinus ; Emil Saisset translates Spinoza ; Tissot and Jules Barni perform the same service for Kant ; Jules Simon and Etienne Vacherot undertake to make intelligible the School of Alex- andria ; Paul Janet explains the dialectics of Plato ; Adolphe Franck deals with the Jewish Kabbala ; Charles de Remusat with Anselm, Abelard and Bacon ; MM. Haureau and Rousselot with the philosophy of the middle age ; M. Chauvet with the theories of the human understanding in antiquity. Cousin published unedited works of Proclus, analyzed the commentaries of Olympiodorus on the Platonic dialogues, made a com- plete translation of Plato, admirable for clearness and strength, and proposed to present, not of course with his own hand, but by the hands of friendly fellow-work- ers, and under his own direction, examples of whatever was best in every philosophical system. The philosoph- ical work of France is ably summed up in the report on "Philosophy in France in the nineteenth century," pre- sented by Felix Ravaisson, member of the Institute, and published in 1868, under the auspices of the Ministry of Public Instruction. The ideas of Locke were brought from London to Paris by Voltaire, who became acquainted with them 62 TRANSCENDENTALISM. during a residence in England, and found them effective in his warfare against the ecclesiastical institutions of his country. Through his brilliant interpretations and keen applications, they gained currency, became fashionable among the wits, were domesticated with people of cul- ture and elegance, and worked their way into the religion and politics of the time. It is needless to say that in his hands full justice was done to their external and material aspects. The system found a more exact and methodical ex- pounder in Condillac, who reduced it to greater simpli- city by eliminating from it what in the original marred its unity, namely reflection, the bent of the mind back on itself, whereby it took cognizance of impressions made by the outer world. Taking what remained of the system, the notion that all knowledge came primarily through the senses, and drawing the conclusion that the mind itself was a product of sensation, Condillac fashioned a doctrine which had the merit, such as it was, of utter intelligibleness to the least instructed mind ; a system of materialism naked and unadorned. If he himself forbore to push his principle to its extreme re- sults, declining to assert that we were absolutely nothing else than products of sensation, and surmising that be- neath the layers of intelligence and reason there might lurk a principle that sensation could not account for, something stable in the midst of the ceaseless instability, something absolute below everything relative, which might be called action or will, the popular interpreta- tion of his philosophy took no account of such subtleties. FRANCE. 63 In vain did his disciple Destutt de Tracy declare that " the principle of movement is the will, and that the will is the person, the man himself." The fascination of simplicity proved more than a match for nicety of dis- tinction, and both were ranked among materialists. Cabanis was at no pains to conceal the most repulsive features of the system. In his work, " The Relations of the Physical and the Moral in Man," he maintained bluntly the theory that there was no spiritual being apart from the body; that mind had no substance, no separate existence of its own, but was in all its parts and qualities a product of the nervous system ; that sensi- bility of every kind, sentimental, intelligent, moral, spiritual, including the whole domain of conscious and unconscious vitality, was a nervous manifestation ; that man was capable of sensation because he had nerves ; that he was what he was because of the wondrous character of the mechanism of sensation ; that, in a word, the per- fection of organization was the perfection of humanity. It was Cabanis who said " the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile." Cabanis modified his phi- losophy before his death, but without effect to break the force of his cardinal positions. The results of such teaching appeared in a morality of selfishness, tending to self-indulgence — a morality destitute of nobleness and sweetness, summing up its lessons in the maxims that good is good to eat ; that the pleasurable thing is right, the painful thing wrong ; that success is the measure of rectitude ; that the aim of life is the attainment of hap- piness, and that happiness means physical enjoyment ; 64 TRANSCENDENTALISM. that virtue and vice are names for prudence and for folly, — Virtue being conformity with the ways of the world, Vice being non-conformity with the ways of the world ; no ideal standard being recognized for the one, no law of rectitude being confessed for the other. Conscience was regarded as an artificial habit created by custom or acquiesced in from tradition ; the "cate- gorical imperative " was pronounced the dogmatism of the fanatic. From such principles atheism naturally proceeded. Atheism not of opinion merely, but of sentiment and feeling ; for at that time " the potencies " of matter im- pressed no such awe upon the mind as they have done since ; the " mystery of matter " was unfelt ; physiology was an unexplored region ; the materialist simply denied spirit, putting a blank where believers in religion had been used to find a soul ; and had no alternative but to run sensationalism into sensualism, and to give the senses the flavor of the ground. With us the sensational philos- ophy has become refined into a philosophy of experi- ence, and the materialist finds himself in a region where to distinguish between matter and spirit is difficult, to say the least. But a hundred years ago matter was clod, and the passion it engendered smelt of the charnel-house. The morbid insanities of the revolution, the orgies in which blood and wine ran together, the savage glee, the delirium that ensued when the uncertainty of life acting on the impulse to enjoy life while it lasted, made men ferocious in clutching at immediate pleasure, attest the consequences that ensued from such frank adoption of FRANCE. 65 the sensational philosophy as was practised among the French. Locke was a man of piety, which even his warmest apologists will hardly claim for Voltaire. The English mind, grave and thoughtful, trained by religious institutions in religious beliefs, was less inclined than the French to drive speculative theories to extreme conclu- sions. The philosophy of sensationalism culminated, not in the French Revolution, as has been vulgarly as- serted, but in the unbelief and sensual extravagance that marked one phase of it. In this there was nothing original ; there was no origi- nality in the reaction that followed, and gave to modern philosophy in France its spiritual character. Laromi- guiere, educated in the school of Condillac, improved on the suggestion that Condillac had given, and deepened into a chasm the scratch he had made to indicate a dis- tinction between the results of sensation and the facul- ties of the mind. In his analysis of the mental consti- tution he came upon two facts that denoted an original activity in advance of sensation — namely, attevtion and desire : the former the root of the intellectual, the latter of the moral powers ; both at last resolvable into one principle — attention. This discovery met with wide and cordial welcome, the popularity of Laromiguiere's lec- tures, delivered in 181 1, 1 8 12, 18 1 3, revealing the fact that thoughtful people were prepared for a new meta- physical departure. Maine de Biran, who more than the rest deserves the name of an original investigator, a severe, solitary, inde- pendent thinker, pupil of no school and founder of none, 66 TRANSCENDENTALISM. brought into strong relief the activity of the intellect. Thought, he maintained, proceeds from will, which is at the base of the personality, is, in fact, the essence of personality. The primary fact is volition. Descartes said, " I think, therefore I am." Maine de Biran said, " I will, therefore I am." " In every one of my determi- nations," he declared, " I recognize myself as being a cause anterior to its effect and capable of surviving it. I behold myself as outside of the movement I produce, and independent of time ; for this reason, strictly speak- ing, I do not become, I really and absolutely am." " To be, to act, to will, are the same thing under different names." Will as the seat of activity ; will as the core of personality ; will as the soul of causation : here is the corner-stone for a new structure to replace the old one of the " Cyclopasdists." Important deductions followed from such a first principle ; the dignity of the moral being, freedom of the moral will, the nobility of existence, the persistency of the individual as a ground for continuous effort and far-reaching hope, the spirituality of man and his destiny. To recover the will from the mass of sen- sations that had buried it out of sight, was the achieve- ment of this philosopher. It was an achievement by which philosophy was disengaged from physics, and sent forth on a more cheerful way. The next steps were taken by disciples of the Scotch school — Royer-Collard, Victor Cousin and Theodore Jouffroy. The last translated Reid and Stewart from English into French ; the two former lectured on them. The three, being masters of clear and persuasive speech, FRANCE. 67 made their ideas popular in France. Cousin's lectures on the Scotch school, including Reid, were delivered in 1819. The lectures on Kant were given in 1820. Both courses were full and adequate. Cousin committed him- self to neither, but freely criticised both, laying stress on the sceptical aspect of the transcendental system as expounded by Kant. Cousin's own system was the once famous, now dis- carded eclecticism, under cover of which another phase of idealism was presented which found favor in America. The cardinal principle of eclecticism was that truth was contained in no system or group of systems, but in all together ; that each had its portion and made its contri- bution ; and that the true philosophy would be reached by a process of intellectual distillation by which the es- sential truth in each would be extracted. A method like this would have nothing to recommend it but its generosity, if there were no criterion by which truths could be tested, no philosophical principle, in short, to govern the selection of materials. Eclecticism must have a philosophy before proceeding to make one, must have arrived at its conclusion before entering on its process. And this it did. It will be seen by the following extracts from his writings what the fundamental ideas of M. Cousin were, and in what respect they aided the process of rationalism. The quotations are from his exposition of eclecticism : " Facts are the point of departure, if not the limit of philosophy. Now facts, whatever they may be, exist, for us only as they come to our consciousness. It is 68 TRANSCENDENTALISM. there alone that observation seizes them and describes them, before committing them to induction, which forces them to reveal the consequences which they con- tain in their bosom. The field of philosophical obser- vation is consciousness ; there is no other; but in this nothing is to be neglected ; everything is important, for everything is connected ; and if one part be wanting, complete unity is unattainable. To return within our consciousness, and scrupulously to study all the phe- nomena, their differences and their relations — this is the primary study of philosophy. Its scientific name is psychology. Psychology is then the condition and, as it were, the vestibule of philosophy. The psychological method consists in completely retiring within the world of consciousness, in order to become familiar in that sphere where all is reality, but where the reality is so various and so delicate ; and the psychological talent con- sists in placing ourselves at will within this interior world, in presenting the spectacle there displayed to ourselves, and in reproducing freely and distinctly all the facts which are accidentally and confusedly brought to our notice by the circumstances of life." " The first duty of the psychological method is to re- tire within the field of consciousness, w T here there is nothing but phenomena, that are all capable of being perceived and judged by observation. Now as no sub- stantial existence falls under the eye of consciousness, it follows that the first effect of a rigid application of method is to postpone the subject of ontology. It postpones it, I say, but does not destroy it. It is a fact, indeed, attested by observation, that in this same consciousness, in which there is nothing but phenomena, there are found notions, whose regular development passes the limits of consciousness and attains the knowledge of actual ex- istences. Would you stop the development of these notions ? You would then arbitrarily limit the compass of a fact, you would attack this fact itself, and thus shake the authority of all other facts. We must either call in FRANCE. 69 question the authority of consciousness in itself, or admit this authority without reserve for all the facts attested by consciousness. The reason is no less certain and real than the will or the sensibility ; its certainty once admitted we must follow it wherever it rigorously conducts, though it be even into the depths of ontology. For example, it is a rational fact attested by consciousness, that in the view of intelligence, every phenomenon which is pre- sented supposes a cause. It is a fact, moreover, that this principle of causality is marked with the character- istics of universality and necessity. If it be universal and necessary, to limit it would be to destroy it. Now in the phenomenon of sensation, the principle of causality intervenes universally and necessarily, and refers this phenomenon to a cause ; and our consciousness testifying that this cause is not the personal cause which the will represents, it follows that the principle of causality in its irresistible application conducts to an impersonal cause, that is to say, to an external cause, which subsequently, and always irresisti- bly, the principle of causality enriches with the charac- teristics and laws, of which the aggregate is the Universe. Here then is an existence ; but an existence revealed by a principle which is itself attested by consciousness. Here is a primary step in ontology, but by the path of psychology, that is to say, of observation. We are led by similar processes to the Cause of all causes, to the substantial Cause, to God ; and not only to a God of Power, but to a God of Justice, a God of Holiness ; so that this experimental method, which, applied to a single order of phenomena, incomplete and exclusive, destroyed ontology and the higher elements of con- sciousness, applied with fidelity, firmness and complete- ness, to all the phenomena, builds up that which it had overthrown, and by itself furnishes ontology with a sure and legitimate instrument. Thus, having commenced with modesty, we can end with results whose certainty is equalled by their importance." 7o TRANSCENDENTALISM. " What physical inquirer, since Euler, seeks anything in nature but forces and laws ? Who now speaks of atoms ? And even molecules, the old atoms revived — who defends them as anything but an hypothesis ? If the fact be incontestable, if modern physics be now employed only with forces and laws, I draw the rigorous conclusion from it, that the science of Physics, whether it know it or not, is no longer material, and that it became spiritual when it rejected every other method than observation and induction, which can never lead to aught but forces and laws. Now what is there material in forces and laws ? The physical sciences, then, themselves have entered into the broad path of an enlightened spiritualism ; and they have only to march with a firm step, and to gain a more and more profound knowledge of forces and laws, in order to arrive at more important generalizations. Let us go still further. As it is a law already recognized of the same reason which governs humanity and nature, to refer every finite cause and every multiple law — that is to say, every phenomenal cause and every phenomenal law — to something absolute, which leaves nothing to be sought beyond it in relation to existence, that is to say, to a substance ; so this law refers the external world composed of forces and laws to a substance, which must needs be a cause in order to be the subject of the causes of this world, which must needs be an intelligence in order to be the subject of its laws ; a substance, in fine, which must needs be the identity of activity and intelli- gence. We have thus arrived accordingly, for the second time, by observation and induction in the exter- nal sphere, at precisely the same point to which observa- tion and induction have successively conducted us in the sphere of personality and in that of reason ; conscious- ness in its triplicity is therefore one ; the physical and moral world is one, science is one, that is to say, in other words, God is One." " Having, gained these heights, philosophy becomes more luminous as well as more grand ; universal har- FRANCE. 71 mony enters into human thought, enlarges it, and gives it peace. The divorce of ontology and psychology, of speculation and observation, of science and common- sense, is brought to an end by a method which arrives at speculation by observation, at ontology by psychology, in order then to confirm observation by speculation, psychology by ontology, and which starting from the immediate facts of consciousness, of which the common- sense of the human race is composed, derives from them the science which contains nothing more than common- sense, but which elevates that to its purest and most rigid form, and enables it to comprehend itself. But I here approach a fundamental point. " If every fact of consciousness contains all the human faculties, sensibility, free activity, and reason, the me, the not-me, and their absolute identity ; and if every fact of consciousness be equal to itself, it follows that every man who has the consciousness of himself possesses and cannot but possess all the ideas that are necessarily contained in consciousness. Thus every man, if he knows himself, knows all the rest, nature and God at the same time with himself. Every man believes in his own existence, every man therefore believes in the exist- ence of the world and of God ; every man thinks, every man therefore thinks God, if we may so express it ; every human proposition, reflecting the consciousness, reflects the idea of unity and of being that is essential to consciousness ; every human proposition therefore con- tains God ; every man who speaks, speaks of God, and every word is an act of faith and a hymn. Atheism is a barren formula, a negation without reality, an abstrac- tion of the mind which cannot assert itself without self- destruction ; for every assertion, even though negative, is a judgment which contains the idea of being, and, consequently, God in His fulness. Atheism is the illu- sion of a few sophists, who place their liberty in opposi- tion to their reason, and are unable even to give an ac- count to themselves of what they think ; but the human 72 TRANSCENDENTALISM. race, which is never false to its consciousness and never places itself in contradiction to its laws, possesses the knowledge of God, believes in him, and never ceases to proclaim Him, In fact, the human race believes in rea- son and cannv>t but believe in it, in that reason which is manifested in consciousness, in a momentary relation with the me — the pure though faint reflection of that primitive light which flows from the bosom of the eternal substance, which is at once substance, cause, intelligence. Without the manifestation of reason in our consciousness, there could be no knowledge — neither psychological, nor, still less, ontological. Reason is, in some sort, the bridge between psychology and ontology, between consciousness and being ; it rests at the same time on both ; it descends from God and approaches man ; it makes its appearance in the consciousness, as a guest who brings intelligence of an unknown world of which it at once presents the idea and awakens the want. If reason were personal, it would have no value, no authority, beyond the -limits of the individual subject. If it remained in the condition of primitive substance, without manifestation, it would be the same for the me which would not know itself, as if it were not. It is necessary therefore that the intelligent sub- stance should manifest itself; and this manifestation is the appearance of reason in the consciousness. Reason then is literally a revelation, a necessary and universal revelation, which is wanting to no man and which enlightens every man on his coming into the world : illuminat oninem Iiominem vcnientem hi Jniuc miindum. Reason is the necessary mediator between God and man, the Xo'yo? of Pythagoras and Plato, the Word made flesh which serves as the interpreter of God and the teacher of man, divine and human at the same time. It is not, indeed, the absolute God in his majestic individuality, but his manifestation in spirit and in truth ; it is not the Being of beings, but it is the revealed God of the human race. As God is never wanting to the human race and FRANCE. 73 ■ never abandons it, so the human race believes in God with an irresistible and unalterable faith, and this unity of faith is its own highest unity " If these convictions of faith be combined in every act of consciousness, and if consciousness be one in the whole human race, whence arises the prodigious diversity which seems to exist between man and man, and in what does this diversity consist ? In truth, when we perceive at first view so many apparent differences between one individual and another, one country and another, one epoch of humanity and another, we feel a profound emotion of melancholy, and are tempted to regard an intellectual development so capricious, and even the whole of humanity, as a phenomenon without consistency, without grandeur, and without interest. But it is demon- strated by a more attentive observation of facts, that no man is a stranger to either of the three great ideas which constitute consciousness, namely, personality or the liberty of man, impersonality or the necessity of nature, and the providence of God. Every man comprehends these three ideas immediately, because he found them at first and constantly finds them again within himself. The exceptions to this fact, by their small number, by the absurdities which they involve, by the difficulties which they create, serve only to exhibit, in a still clearer light, the universality of faith in the human race, the treasure of good sense deposited in truth, and the peace and happiness that there are for a human soul in not dis- carding the convictions of its kind. Leave out the ex- ceptions which appear from time to time in certain critical periods uf history, and you will perceive that the masses which alone have true existence, always and everywhere live in the same faith, of which the forms only vary." These somewhat too copious extracts have been pur- posely taken from the first volume of the " Specimens of Foreign Standard Literature," edited by George Ripley in 1838, rather than from the collected writings of 74 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Cousin, because they show what a leading New England transcendentalist thought most important in the teaching of the French school. His own estimate of the philos- ophy and his expectations from it may be learned from the closing passages of the introduction to that volume: " The objects at which Mr. Coleridge aims, it seems to me, are in a great measure accomplished by the philoso- phy of Cousin. This philosophy demolishes, by one of the most beautiful specimens of scientific analysis that is anywhere to be met with, the system of sensation, against which Mr. Coleridge utters such eloquent and pathetic denunciations. It establishes on a rock the truth of the everlasting sentiments of the human heart. It exhibits to the speculative inquirer, in the rigorous forms of science, the reality of our instinctive faith in God, in virtue, in the human soul, in the beauty of holiness, and in the immortality of man. Such a philosophy, I cannot but believe, will ulti- mately find a cherished abode in the youthful affections of this nation, in whose history, from the beginning, the love of freedom, the love of philosophical inquiry, and the love of religion have been combined in a thrice holy bond. We need a philosophy like this to purify and enlighten our politics, to consecrate our industry, to cheer and elevate society. We need it for our own use in the hours of mental misgiving and gloom ; when the mystery of the universe presses heavily upon our souls ; when the fountains of the great deep are broken up, and the " Intellectual power Goes sounding on, a dim and perilous way," over the troubled waters of the stormy sea. We need it for the use of our practical men, who, surrounded on every side with the objects of sense, engrossed with the competitions of business, the rivalries of public life, or the cares of professional duty, and accustomed to look at the immediate and obvious utility of everything which FRANCE. 75 appeals to their notice, often acquire a distaste for all moral and religious inquiries, and as an almost inevitable consequence, lose their interest, and often their belief, in the moral and religious faculties of their nature. We need it for the use of our young men, who are engaged in the active pursuits of life, or devoted to the cultiva- tion of literature. How many on the very threshold of manly responsibility, by the influence of a few unhappy mistakes, which an acquaintance with their higher nature, as unfolded by a sound religious philosophy, would have prevented, have consigned themselves to disgrace, remorse, and all the evils of a violated con- science ! How many have become the dupes of the sophists' eloquence, or the victims of the fanatics' terrors, for whom the spirit of a true philosophy — a philosophy ' baptized in the pure fountain of eternal love,' would have preserved the charm and beauty of life." Cousin's " History of Philosophy," translated by H. G. Linberg, was published in 1832. The " Elements of Psychology," by C. S. Henry, appeared in 1834. Thus Cousin was early introduced and recommended, and his expositions of the German schools were received. The volume from which passages have been cited had an important influence on New England thought. TRANSCENDENTALISM IN ENGLAND. THE prophet of the new philosophy in England was Samuel Taylor Coleridge ; in the early part of the present century, perhaps the most conspicuous figure in our literary world ; the object of more admiration, the centre of more sympathy, the source of more intellectual life than any individual of his time ; the criticism, the censure, the manifold animadversion he was made the mark for, better attest his power than the ovations he received from his worshippers. The believers in his genius lacked words to express their sense of his great- ness. He was the " eternal youth," the " divine child." The brilliant men of his period acknowledged his sur- passing brilliancy ; the deep men confessed his depth ; the spiritual men went to him for inspiration. His mind, affluent and profuse, contained within no barriers of conventional form, poured an abounding flood of thoughts over the whole literary domain. He was essayist, journalist, politician, poet, dramatist, metaphy- sician, philosopher, theologian, divine, critic, expositor, dreamer, soliloquizer ; in all eloquent, in all intense. The effect he produced on the minds of his contempo- raries will scarcely be believed now. At present he is little more than a name : his books are pronounced un- TRANSCENDENTALISM. 77 readable ; his opinions are not quoted as authority ; his force is spent. But in 185 1, Thomas Carlyle, then past the years of his enthusiasm, and verging on the scorn- ful epoch of his intellectual career, spoke of him, in the " Life of Sterling," as " A sublime man, who, alone in those dark days, had saved his crown of spiritual manhood ; escaping from the black materialisms and revolutionary deluges, with God, freedom, immortality still his ; a king of men. The practical intellects of the world did not much heed him, or carelessly reckoned him a metaphysical dreamer ; but to the rising spirits of the young generation he had* this dusky, sublime char- acter, and sat there as a kind of Magus, girt in mystery and enigma, his Dodona oak grove (Mr. Gillman's house at Highgate) whispering strange things, uncertain whether oracles or jargon." "To the man himself, Nature had given in high measure the seeds of a noble endowment, and to unfold it was forbidden him. A subtle, lynx-eyed intellect, tremulous, pious sensibility to all good and all beautiful ; truly a ray of empyrean light, — but imbedded in such weak laxity of character, in such indolences and esuriences, as made strange work with it. Once more, the tragic story of a high endow- ment with an insufficient will." The abatement is painfully just ; but while Coleridge lived, this very indolence and moral imbecility added to the interest he excited, and gave a mystic splendor as of a divine inspiration to his mental performances. The distinction between unhealthiness and inspiration has never been clearly marked, and the voluble utterances 78 ENGLAND. of the feebly outlined and loosely jointed soul easily passed for oracles. Thus his moral deficiencies aided his influence. His wonderful powers of conversation or rather of effusion in the midst of admiring friends helped the illusion and the fascination. He really seemed inspired while he talked ; and as his talk ranged through every domain, the listeners carried away and commu- nicated the impression of a superhuman wisdom. . The impression that Coleridge made on minds of a very different order from Carlyle's, is given in the fol- lowing lines by Aubrey de Vere : No loftier, purer soul than his hath ever With awe revolved the planetary page From infancy to age, Of knowledge, sedulous and proud to give her The whole of his great heart, for her own sake ; For what she is : not what she does, or what can make. And mighty voices from afar came to him ; Converse of trumpets held by cloudy forms And speech of choral storms. Spirits of night and noontide bent to woo him ; He stood the while lonely and desolate As Adam when he ruled a world, yet found no mate. His loftiest thoughts were but as palms uplifted ; Aspiring, yet in supplicating guise — His sweetest songs were sighs. Adown Lethean streams his spirit drifted, Under Elysian shades from poppied bank, With amaranths massed in dark luxuriance dank. ENGLAND. 79 Coleridge, farewell ! That great and grave transition Which may not king or priest or conqueror spare. And yet a babe can bear, Has come to thee. Through life a goodly vision Was thine ; and time it was thy rest to take. Soft be the sound ordained thy sleep to break ; When thou art waking, wake me, for thy Master's sake." In May, 1796, — he was then twenty-four years old, — Coleridge wrote to a friend, " I am studying German, and in about six weeks shall be able to read that lan- guage with tolerable fluency. Now I have some thoughts of making a proposal to Robinson, the great London bookseller, of translating all the works of Schiller, which would make a portly quarto, on con- dition that he should pay my journey and my wife's to and from Jena, a cheap German University where Schiller resides, and allow nje two guineas each quarto sheet, which would maintain me. If I could realize this scheme, I should there study chemistry and anatomy, and bring over with me all the works of Semler and Michaelis, the German theologians, and of Kant, the great German metaphysician." In September, 1798, in company with Wordsworth and his sister, and at the expense of his munificent friends Josiah and Thomas Wedgewood, he went to Germany and spent fourteen months in hard study. There he attended the lectures of Eichhorn and Blumenbach, made the acquaintance of Tieck, dipped quite deeply into philosophy and general literature, and took by contagion the speculative ideas that filled his imagination with visions of intellectual discovery. Schel- 8o TRANSCENDENTALISM. ling's "Transcendental Idealism," with which Coleridge was afterwards most in sympathy, was not published till 1800. The " Philosophy of Nature " was published in 1797, the year before Coleridge's visit. In 1817, he tells the readers of the " Biographia Literaria " that he had been able to procure only two of Schelling's books — the first volume of his " Philosophical Writings," and the "System of Transcendental Idealism;" these and "a small pamphlet against Fichte, the spirit of which was, to my feelings, painfully incongruous with the principles, and which displayed the love of wisdom rather than the wisdom of love." The philosophical ideas of Schelling commended them- selves at once to Coleridge, who was a born idealist, of au** dacious genius, speculative, imaginative, original, capable of any such abstract achievement as the German under- took. ** In Schelling's Natur Philosophie and the System des Transcendentalen Idealismus, I first found a genial coincidence with much that I had toiled out for myself, and a powerful assistance in what I had yet to do. All the main and fundamental ideas were born and matured in my mind before I had ever seen a single page of the German philosopher; and I might indeed affirm with truth, before the more important works of Schelling had been written, or at least made public. Nor is this at all to be wondered at. We had studied in the same school ; been disciplined by the same preparatory philosophy, namely, the writings of Kant ; we had both equal obligations to the polar logic and dynamic philosophy of Giordano Bruno ; and Schelling has lately, and, as of recent acquisition, avowed that same affec- tionate reverence for the labors of Behmen and other ENGLAND. 8 1 mystics which I had formed at a much earlier period. God forbid that I should be suspected of a wish to enter,, into a rivalry with Schelling for the honors so unequivo- cally his right, not only as a great original genius, but as the founder of the Philosophy of Nature, and as the most successful improver of the Dynamic system, which, begun by Bruno, was reintroduced (in a more philosophi- cal form, and freed from all its impurities and visionary accompaniments) by Kant, in whom it was the native and necessary growth of his own system. Kant's followers, however, on whom (for the greater part) their master's cloak had fallen, without, or with a very scanty portion of his spirit, had adopted his dynamic ideas, only as a more refined species of mechanics. With exception of one or two fundamental ideas which cannot be withheld from Fichte, to Schelling we owe the completion and the most important victories of this revolution in philosophy. To me it will be happiness and honor enough, should I succeed in rendering the system itself intelligible to my countrymen, and in the application of it to the most awful of subjects for the most import- ant of purposes. Whether a work is the offspring of a man's own spirit and the product of original thinking, will be discovered by those who are its sole legitimate judges, by better tests than the mere reference to dates." The question of Coleridge's alleged plagiarism from Schelling does not concern us here. Whether the philosophy he taught was the product of his own think- ing, or whether he was merely the medium for commu- nicating the system of Schelling to his countrymen, is of no moment to us. For us it is sufficient to know that the English-speaking people on both shores of the Atlantic received them chiefly through the Englishman. Those who are interested in the other matter will find Coleridge's reputation vindicated in a long and elabo- 82 TRANSCENDENTALISM. rate introduction to the " Biographia Literaria," edition of 1847, by the poet's son. Coleridge was a pure Transcendentalist, of the Schell- ing school. The transcendental phrases came over and over in book and conversation, " reason" and "under- standing," "intuition," "necessary truths," "consci- ousness," and the rest that were used to described the •supersensual world and the faculties by which it was made visible. He shall speak for himself. The follow- ing passage from the " Biographia Literaria," Chapter XII., will be sufficiently intelligible to those who have read the previous chapters, or enough of them to com- prehend their cardinal ideas : " The criterion is this : if a man receives as funda- mental facts, and therefore of course indemonstratable and incapable of further analysis, the general notions of matter, spirit, soul, body, action, passiveness, time, space, cause and effect, consciousness, perception, memory and all these, and is satisfied if only he can analyze all other notions into some one or more of these supposed ele- ments, with plausible subordination and apt arrange- ment ; to such a mind I would as courteously as possible convey the hint, that for him this chapter was not written. . . . For philosophy, in its highest sense, as the science of ultimate truths, and therefore scicntia seientiarum, this mere analysis of terms is preparative only, though as a preparative discipline indispensable. "Still less dare a favorable perusal be anticipated from the proselytes of that compendious philosophy which, talking ©f mind, but thinking of brick and mortar, or other images equally abstracted from body, contrives a theory of spirit by nicknaming matter, and in a few hours can qualify its dullest disciples to explain the omne scibile by reducing all things to impressions, ideas, and sensations. ENGLAND, 83 " But it is time to tell the truth ; though it requires some courage to avow it in an age and country in which disquisitions on all subjects not privileged to adopt technical terms or scientific symbols, must be addressed to the public. I say, then, that it is neither possible nor necessary for all men, nor for many, to be philosophers. There is a philosophic consciousness which lies beneath or (as it were) behind the spontaneous consciousness natural to all reflecting beings. As the elder Romans distinguished their northern provinces into Cis-Alpine and Trans-Alpine, so may we divide all the objects of human knowledge into those on this side and those on the other side of the spontaneous consciousness. The latter is exclusively the domain of pure philosophy, which is therefore properly entitled transcendental, in order to discriminate it at once, both from mere reflec- tion and /^-presentation on the one hand, and on the other from those flights of lawless speculation which, abandoned by all distinct consciousness, because trans- gressing the bounds and purposes of our intellectual faculties, are justly condemned as transcendent; " The first range of hills that encircles the scanty vale of human life is the horizon for the majority of its inhabi- tants. On its ridges the sun is born and departs. From them the stars rise, and touching them they vanish. By the many, even this range, the natural limit and bulwark of the vale, is but imperfectly known. Its higher as- cents are too often hidden in mists and clouds from uncultivated swamps which few have courage or curiosity to penetrate. To the multitude below these vapors appear, now as the dark haunts of terrific agents, on which none may intrude with impunity ; and now all aglow, with colors not their own, they are gazed at as the splendid palaces of happiness and pow r er. But in all ages there have been a few who, measuring and sounding the rivers of the vale at the feet of their farthest inacces- sible falls, have learned that the sources must be far higher and far inward ; a few who, even in the level streams, have detected elements which neither the vale 84 TRANSCENDENTALISM. itself nor the surrounding mountains contained or could supply. How and whence to these thoughts, these strong probabilities, the ascertaining vision, the intuitive knowledge may finally supervene, can be learned only by the fact. I might oppose to the question the words with which Plotinus supposes Nature to answer a similar difficulty : ' Should any one interrogate her how she works, if graciously she vouchsafe to listen and speak, she will reply, it behooves thee not to disquiet me with interrogatories, but to understand in silence, even as I am silent, and work without words.' " They and they only can acquire the philosophic imagination, the sacred power of self-intuition, who within themselves can interpret and understand the symbol, that the wings of the air-sylph are forming within the skin of the caterpillar ; those only, who feel in their own spirits the same instinct which impels the chrysalis of the horned fly to leave room in its involu- crum for a?itennce yet to come. They know and feel that the potential works in them, even as the actual works in them ! In short, all the organs of sense are. framed for a corresponding world of sense ; and we have it. All the organs of spirit are framed for a correspondent world of spirit ; though the latter organs are not developed in all alike. But they exist in all, and their first appearance discloses itself in the moral being. How else could it be that even worldlings, not wholly debased, will contem- plate the man of simple and disinterested goodness with contradictory feelings of pity and respect. ' Poor man, he is not made for this world.' Oh, herein they utter a prophecy of universal fulfilment, for man must either rise or sink. " It is the essential mark of the true philosopher to rest satisfied with no imperfect light, as long as the impos- sibility of attaining a fuller knowledge has not been demonstrated. That the common consciousness itself will furnish proofs by its own direction that it is con- nected with master currents below the surface, I shall merely assume as a postulate pro tempore. . . . On the ENGLAND. 85 IMMEDIATE which dwells in every man, and on the original intuition or absolute affirmation of it (which is likewise in every man, but does not in every man rise into consciousness), all the certainty of our knowledge depends ; and this becomes intelligible to no man by the ministry of mere words from without. The medium by which spirits understand each other is not the sur- rounding air, but the freedom which they possess in common, as the common ethereal element of their being, the tremulous reciprocations of which propagate themselves even to the inmost of the soul. Where the spirit of a man is not filled with the consciousness of freedom (were it only from its restlessness, as of one struggling in bondage) all spiritual intercourse is inter- rupted, not only with others, but even with himself. No wonder, then, that he remains incomprehensible to himself as well as to others. No wonder that in the fearful desert of his consciousness he wearies himself out with empty words to which no friendly echo answers, either from his own heart or the heart of a fellow-being ; or bewilders himself in the pursuit of notional phan- toms, the mere refractions from unseen and distant truths through the distorting medium of his own unen- livened and stagnant understanding ! To remain unin- telligible to such a mind, exclaims Schelling on a like occasion, is honor and a good name before God and man. " Philosophy is employed on objects of the iiuicr sense, and cannot, like geometry, appropriate to every con- struction a corresponding outward intuition. . . . Now the inner sense has its direction determined for the greater part only by an act of freedom. One man's consciousness extends only to the pleasant or unpleasant sensations caused in him by external impressions ; another enlarges his inner sense to a consciousness of forms and quantity ; a third, in addition to the image, is conscious of the conception or notion of the thing : a fourth attains to a notion of his notions — he reflects on his own reflections ; and thus we may say without im- 86 TRANSCENDENTALISM. propriety, that the one possesses more or less inner sense than the other. . . . " The postulate of philosophy, and at the same time the test of philosophical capacity, is no other than the heaven- descended KNOW THYSELF. And this at once practi- cally and speculatively. For as philosophy is neither a science of the reason or understanding only, nor merely a science of morals, but the science of Being altogether, its primary ground can be neither merely speculative nor merely practical, but both in one. All knowledge rests upon the coincidence of an object with a subject. For we can know only that which is true ; and the truth is uni- versally placed in the coincidence of the thought with the thing, of the representation with the object represented." Coleridge then puts and argues the two alternatives. I. Either the Objective is taken as primary, and then we have to account for the supervention of the Subjec- tive which coalesces with it, which natural philosophy supposes. 2. Or the Subjective is taken as primary, and then we have to account for the supervention of the objective, which spiritual philosophy supposes. The Transcendentalist accepts the latter alternative. " The second position, which not only claims but necessitates the admission of its immediate certainty, equally for the scientific reason of the philosopher as for the common-sense of mankind at large, namely, I AM, cannot properly be entitled a prejudice. It is ground- less indeed ; but then in the very idea' it precludes all ground, and, separated from the immediate conscious- ness, loses its whole sense and import. It is ground- less ; but only because it is itself the ground of all other certainty. Now the apparent contradiction, that the first position — namely, that the existence of things with- out us, which from its nature cannot be immediately certain — should be received as blindly and as independ- ently of all grounds as the existence of our own being, ENGLAND. 87 the transcendental philosopher can solve only by the supposition that the former is unconsciously involved in the latter ; that it is not only coherent, but identical, and one and the same thing with our own immediate self- consciousness. To demonstrate this identity is the office and object of his philosophy. ' ' If it be said that this is idealism, let it be remembered that it is only so far idealism, as it is at the same time and on that very account the truest and most binding realism." To follow the exposition further is unnecessary for the present purpose, which is to state the fundamental prin- ciples of the philosophy, not to give the processes of reasoning by which they are illustrated. Had Coleridge been merely a philosopher, his influence on his genera- tion, by this means, would have been insignificant ; for his expositions were fragmentary ; his thoughts were too swift and tumultuous in their flow to be systemati- cally arranged ; his style, forcible and luminous in pas- sages, is interrupted by too frequent episodes, excursions and explanatory parentheses, to be enjoyed by the inex- pert. Besides being a philosopher, he was a theologian. His deepest interest was in the problems of theology. His mind was perpetually turning over the questions of trinity, incarnation, Holy Ghost, sin, redemption, salva- tion. He meditated endless books on these themes, and, in special, one " On the Logos," which was to re- move all difficulties and reconcile all contradictions. " On the whole, those dead churches, this dead English church especially, must be brought to life again. Why not ? It was not dead ; the soul of it, in this parched-up body, was tragically asleep only. Atheistic philosophy was, true, on its side ; and Hume and Voltaire could, 58 TRANSCENDENTALISM. on their own ground, speak irrefragably for themselves against any church : but lift the church and them into a higher sphere of argument, they died into inanition, the church revivified itself into pristine florid vigor, became once more a living ship of the desert, and invincibly bore you over stock and stone." The philosophy was accepted as a basis for the theol- ogy, and apparently only so far as it supplied the basis. Mrs. Coleridge declares, in a note to Chapter IX. of the " Biographia Literaria," that her husband, soon after the composition of that work, became dissatisfied with the system of Schelling, considered as a fundamental and comprehensive scheme intended to exhibit the relations of God to the world and man. He objected to it, she insists, as essentially pantheistic, radically inconsistent with a belief iti God as himself moral and intelligent, as beyond and above the world, as the supreme mind to which the human mind owes homage and fealty — in- consistent with any just view and deep sense of the moral and spiritual being of man. He was mainly con- cerned with the construction of a " philosophical system, in which Christianity, — based on the triune being of God, and embracing a primal fall and universal redemption, (to use Carlyle's words) Christianity, ideal, spiritual, eternal, but likewise and necessarily historical, realized and manifested in time,— should be shown forth as accordant, or rather as one with ideas of reason, and the demands of the spiritual and of the speculative mind, of the heart, conscience, reason, which should all be satisfied and reconciled in one bond of peace." ENGLAND. 89 This explains the interest which young and enthu- siastic minds in the English Church took in Coleridge, the verses just quoted from Aubrey de Vere, one of the new school of believers, the admiring discipleship of Frederick Denison Maurice, the hearty allegiance of the leaders of the spiritual reformation in England. Coleridge was the real founder of the Broad Church, which attempted to justify creed and sacrament, by sub- stituting the ideas of the spiritual philosophy for the formal authority of traditions which the reason of the age was discarding. The men who sympathized with the same movement in America felt the same gratitude to their leader. Already in 1829 " The Aids to Reflection " were repub- lished by Dr. James Marsh. Caleb Sprague Henry, professor of philosophy and history in the University of New York in 1839, and before that a resident of Cam- bridge, an enthusiastic thinker and eloquent talker, loved to dilate on the genius of the English philosopher, and was better than a book in conveying information about him, better than many books in awakening in- terest in his thought. The name of Coleridge was spoken with profound reverence, his books were studied industriously, and the terminology of transcendentalism was as familiar as commonplace in the circles of divines and men of letters. At present Hegel is the prophet of these believers, Schelling is obsolete, and Coleridge, the English Schelling, has had his day. The change is marked by an all but entire absence of the passionate enthusiasm, the imaginative glow and fervor, that char- 90 TRANSCENDENTALISM. acterized the transcendental phase of the movement. Coleridge was a vital thinker ; his mind was a flame ; his thoughts burned within him, and issued from him in language that trembled and throbbed with the force of the ideas committed to it. He was a divine, a preacher of most wonderful eloquence. At the age of three or four and forty Serjeant Talfourd heard him talk. " At first his tones were conversational : he seemed to dally with the shallows of the subject and with fantastic images which bordered it ; but gradually the thought grew deeper, and the voice deepened with the thought ; the stream gathering strength seemed to bear along with it all things which opposed its progress, and blended them with its current ; and stretching away among regions tinted with ethereal colors, was lost at airy distance in the horizon of fancy." At five-and-twenty William Hazlitt heard him preach. " It was in January, 1798, that I rose one morning be- fore daylight, to walk ten miles in the mud, to hear this celebrated person preach. Never, the longest day I have to live, shall I have such another walk as this cold, raw, comfortless one, in the winter of the year 1798. II y a des impressions que ni le temps ni les cir Constances pcuvcnt effacer. DiLSse je vivre des siecles entiers, le doux temps de ma jeunesse ne petit renaitre ponr moi, ni s effacer jamais dans ma memoire. When 1 got there the organ was playing the hundredth psalm, and when it was done Mr. Coleridge rose and gave out his text, ' He departed again into a mountain himself alone.' As he gave out this text his voice ' rose like a stream of rich distilled perfumes ; ' and when he came to the last two words, which he pronounced loud, deep, and dis- tinct, it seemed to me, who was then young, as if the sounds had echoed from the bottom of the human heart, and as if that prayer might have floated in solemn silence through the universe. The idea of St. John came into my mind, of one crying in the wilderness, who had ENGLAND. 9 1 his loins girt about,- and whose food was locusts and wild honey. The preacher then launched into his subject, like an eagle dallying with the wind. The sermon was upon peace and war, upon church and state, not their alliance, but their separation ; on the spirit of the world and the spirit of Christianity, not as the same, but as opposed to one another. He talked of those who had inscribed the cross of Christ on banners dripping with human gore. He made a poetical and pastoral excur- sion, and to show the effects of war, drew a striking contrast between the simple shepherd boy, driving his team afield, or sitting under the hawthorn, piping to his flock as though he should never be old ; and the same poor country lad, crimped, kidnapped, brought into town, made drunk at an ale-house, turned into a wretched drummer-boy, with his hair sticking on end with powder and pomatum, a long cue at his back, and tricked out in the finery of the profession of blood. ' Such were the notes our once loved poet sung ; ' and for myself I could not have been more delighted if I had heard the music of the spheres. Poetry and Phi- losophy had met together, Truth and Genius had em- braced, under the eye and with the sanction of Religion. This was even beyond my hopes. I returned home well satisfied." The influence of Coleridge was greatly assisted by contemporary magazines, which helped by their furious efforts to crush him, and won sympathy for him by their attempts to laugh and hoot him down. Jeffrey handled the " Biographia Literaria " in the Edinburgh Review, August, 1 8 17 ; "as favorable to the book as could be ex- pected," the editor quietly says. The numberless varieties of judgment were represented in the Dublin University 92 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Magazine, British and Foreign Quarterly, Fraser, Black- wood, Christian Quarterly, Spectator, Monthly Review, Eclectic, Westminster, most of which contained several articles on different aspects of the subject. In America, Geo. B. Cheever wrote in the North American Review, F. H. Hedge in the Christian Examiner, D. N. Lord in Lord's Theological Journal, H. T. Tuckerman in the Southern Literary Messenger, Noah Porter in the Bib- liotheca Sacra. The New York Review, the American Quarterly, American Whig Review, all made contribu- tions to the Coleridgian literature,* and exhibited the extensive reaches of his power. The readers of Lamb, Hazlitt, Wordsworth, Southey and the brilliant essayists that made so fascinating the English literature of the first third of our century must perforce be introduced to Cole- ridge. The ''Ancient Mariner" and " Christabel," which lay on every table, excited interest in the man from whom such astonishing pieces proceeded ; so that many who understood little or nothing of his philosophical ideas, appropriated something of the spirit and tone of them. He had disciples who never heard him speak even in print, and followers who never saw his form even as sketched by critics. His thoughts were in the air ; the mental atmosphere of theological schools was modi- fied by them. They insensibly transplanted establish- ments and creeds from old to new regions. In 1 85 1, Thomas Carlyle burlesqued Coleridge, took off his solemn oracular manner, made fun of his "plain- See for references. Poole's Index to Periodical Literature. ENGLAND. 93 tive snuffle and sing-song," his "om-m-ject and sum-m- ject," his " talk not flowing any whither like a river, but spreading everywhither in inextricable currents and regurgitations like a lake or sea ; terribly deficient in definite goal or aim, nay often in logical intelligi- bility ; what you were to believe or do, on any earthly or heavenly thing, obstinately refusing to appear from it, so that, most times, you felt logically lost ; swamped near to drowning in this tide of ingenious vocables spreading out boundless as if to submerge the world." But in his earlier days the " windy harangues " and " diz- zying metaphysics " had their charm for him too ; the philosophy of the Highgate sage was in essence and fruit his own. He explained at some length and with con- siderable frequency, as well as much eloquence, the dis- tinction between " understanding," the faculty that observed, generalized, inferred, argued, concluded, and " reason," the faculty that saw the ideal forms of truth face to face, and beheld the inmost reality of things. He dilated with a disciple's enthusiasm on the principles of the transcendental philosophy, painted in gorgeous col- ors the promises it held forth, prophesied earnestly respecting the better time for literature, art, social ethics and religious faith it would bring in, preached tem- pestuously against shams in church and state, from the mount of vision that it disclosed. We have already seen how he could speak of Kant, Fichte, Novalis, of Goethe and Jean Paul. Thirty-five years ago Carlyle was the high priest of the new philosophy. Emerson edited his miscellanies, and the dregs of his ink-bottle were wel- 94 TRANSCENDENTALISM. corned as the precious sediment of the fountain of inspiration. In 1827 he defended the " Kritik of Pure Reason " against stupid objectors from the sensational side, as, in the opinion of the most competent judges, " distinctly the greatest intellectual achievement of the century in which it came to light," and affirmed as by authority, that the seeker for pure truth must begin with intuition and proceed outward by the light of the revela- tion thence derived. In 1831 he carried this principle to the extreme of maintaining that a complete surrender to the informing genius, a surrender so entire as to amount to the abandonment of definite purpose and will, was evidence of perfect wisdom ; for such is the interpretation we give to the paradoxical doctrine of " unconsciousness" which implied that in order to save the soul it must be forgotten ; that consciousness was a disease ; that in much wisdom was much grief. Had Carlyle been more of a philosopher and less of a preacher, more a thinker and less a character, more a patient toiler after truth, and less a man of letters, his first intellectual impulse might have lasted. As it was, the reaction came precisely in middle life, and the apostle of transcendental ideas became the champion of Force. His Transcendentalism seems to have been a thing of sentiment rather than of conviction. A man of tremen- dous strength of feeling, his youth., as is the case with men of feeling, was romantic, enthusiastic, hopeful, exube- rant ; his manhood, as is also the case with men of feeling, was wilful and overbearing, with sadness deepening into moroseness and unhopefulness verging towards despair. ENGLAND. 95 The era of despair had not set in at the period when the mind of New England was fermenting with the ideas of the new philosophy. Then all was brave, hu- mane, aspiring. The denunciations of materialism in philosophy, formalism in religion and utilitarianism in personal and social ethics, rang through the land ; the superb vindications of soul against sense , spirit against letter, faith against rite, heroism and nobleness against the petty expediencies of the market, kindled all, earnest hearts. The emphatic declarations that " wonder and reverence are the conditions of insight and the source of strength ; that faith is prior to knowledge and deeper too ; that empirical science can but play on the surface of unfathomable mysteries ; that in the order of reality the ideal and invisible are the world's true ada- mant, and the laws of material appearance only its allu- vial growths ; that in the inmost thought of men there is a thirst to which the springs of nature are a mere mirage, and which presses on to the waters of eternity," fell like refreshing gales from, the hills on the children of men imprisoned in custom and suffocated by tradition. The infinitely varied illustrations of the worth of beauty, the grandeur of truth, the excellence of simple, devout sincerity in nature, literature, character ; the burning insistance on the need of fresh inspiration from the region of serene ideas, seemed to proceed from a soul newly awakened, if not especially endowed with the seer's vision. It was better than philosophy ; it was philoso- phy made vital with sentiment and purpose. Carlyle early learned the German language, as Coleridge 96 TRANSCENDENTALISM. did, and drank deep from the fountains of its best litera- ture. To him it opened a new world of thought, which the ordinary Englishman had no conception of. Cole- ridge found himself at home there by virtue of his natural genius, and also by the introduction given him by Wm. Law, John Pordage, Richard Saumarez, and Jacob Beh- men, so that the suddenly discovered continent broke on him with less surprise ; but Carlyle was as one taken wholly unawares, fascinated, charmed, intoxicated with the sights and sounds about him. Being unprepared by previous reflection and overpowered by the gorgeous- ness of color, the wealth was too much for him ; it pall- ed at last on his appetite, and he experienced a reaction similar to that of the sensualist whose delirium first per- suades him that he has found his soul, and then makes him fear that he has lost it. With the reactionary stage of Carlyle's career when, as a frank critic observes, " he flung away with a shriek the problems his youth entertained, as the fruit by which paradise was lost ; repented of all knowledge of good and evil ; clapped a bandage round the open eyes of morals, religion, art, and saw no salvation but in spiritual sui- cide by plunging into the currents of instinctive nature that sweep us we know not whither " — we are not con- cerned. His interest for us ceases with his moral en- thusiasm. A more serene and beneficent influence proceeded from the poet Wordsworth, whose fame rose along with that of Coleridge, struggled against the same opposition, and obtained even a steadier lustre. There was a kindred be- ENGLAND. 97 tween them which Wordsworth did not acknowledge, but which Coleridge more than suspected and tried to divulge. One chapter in the first volume of the " Biog- raphia Literaria " and four chapters in the second volume are devoted to the consideration of Wordsworth's poetry, and effort is made, not quite successfully, to bring Words- worth's psychological faith into sympathy with his own. Wordsworth's genius has furnished critics with mate- rials for speculation that must be sought in their proper places. We have no fresh analysis to offer. That the secret of his power over the ingenuous and believing minds of his age is to be found in the sentiment with which he invested homely scenes and characters is a superficial conjecture. What led him to invest homely scenes and characters with sentiment, and what made this circumstance interesting to precisely that class of minds ? What, but the same latent idealism that came to deliberate and formal expression in Coleridge, and sug- gested in the one what was proclaimed by the other ? For Wordsworth was a metaphysician, though he did not clearly suspect it ; at least, if he did, he was careful not to betray himself by the usual signs. The philosophers recognized him and paid to him their acknowledgments. In the " Dial," Wordsworth is mentioned with honor ; not discussed as Goethe was, but pleasantly talked about as a well-known friend. The third volume of that mag- gazine, April, 1843, contains an article on "Europe and European Books" in which occurs the following tri- bute to Wordsworth : "The capital merit of Wordsw r orth is that he has 5 98 TRANSCENDENTALISM. done more for the sanity of this generation than any other writer. Early in life, at a crisis, it is said, in his private affairs, he made his election between assuming and defending some legal rights with the chances of wealth and a position in the world — and the inward promptings of his heavenly genius ; he took his part ; he accepted the call to be a poet, and sat down, far from cities, with coarse clothing and plain fare to obey the heavenly vision. The choice he had made in his will manifested itself in every line to be real. We have poets who write the poetry of society, of the patricians and conventional Europe, as Scott and Moore ; and others, who, like Byron or Bulwer, write the poetry of vice and disease. But Wordsworth threw himself into his place, made no reserves or stipulations ; man and writer were not to be divided. He sat at the foot of Helvellyn and on the margin of Windermere, and took their lus- trous mornings and their sublime midnights, for his theme, and not Marlowe nor Massinger, nor Horace, nor Milton nor Dante. He once for all forsook the styles and standards and modes of thinking of London and Paris and the books read there, and the aims pursued, and wrote Helvellyn and Windermere and the dim spirits which these haunts harbored. There was not the least at- tempt to reconcile these with the spirit of fashion and selfishness, nor to show, with great deference to the su- perior judgment of dukes and earls, that although London was the home for men of great parts, yet Westmore- land had these consolations for such as fate had condemn- ed to the country life ; but with a complete satisfaction he pitied and rebuked their false lives, and celebrated his own with the religion of a true priest. Hence the an- tagonism which was immediately felt between his poetry and the spirit of the age, that here not only criticism but conscience and will were parties ; the spirit of litera- ture, and the modes of living, and the conventional the- ories of the conduct of life were called in question on wholly new grounds, not from Platonism, nor from ENGLAND. 99 Christianity, but from the lessons which the country muse taught a stout pedestrian climbing a mountain, and following a river from its parent rill down to the sea. The Cannings and Jeffreys of the capital, the Court Jour- nals and Literary Gazettes were not well pleased, and voted the poet a bore. But that which rose in him so high as to the lips, rose in many others as high as to the heart. What he said, they were prepared to hear and to confirm. The influence was in the air, and was wafted up and down into lone and populous places, re- sisting the popular taste, modifying opinions which it did not change, and soon came to be felt in poetry, in criticism, in plans of life, and at last in legislation. In this country it very early found a stronghold, and its effect may be traced on all the poetry both of England and America." This is truly and well said, though quite inadequate. The slighting allusion to Platonism might have been omitted, for possibly Wordsworth had caught something of the philosophy that was in the air. Mr. Emerson, in "Thoughts on Modern Literature," in the second number of the "Dial," Oct. 1840, touched a deeper chord. "The fame of Wordsworth" he says, "is a lead- ing fact in modern literature, when it is considered how hostile his genius at first seemed to the reigning taste, and with what feeble poetic talents his great and steadily growing dominion has been established. More than any poet his success has been not his own, but that of the idea which he shared with his coevals, and which he has rarely succeeded in adequately expressing. The Excursion awakened in every lover of nature the right feeling. We saw the stars shine, we felt the awe of mountains, we heard the rustle of the wind in the grass, and knew again the ineffable secret of solitude. It was a great joy. It was nearer to nature than any too TRANSCENDENTALISM. thing we had before. But the interest of the poem ended almost with the narrative of the influences of nature on the mind of the Boy, in the the first book. Obviously for that passage the poem was written, and with the exception of this and a few strains of like character in the sequel, the whole poem was dull. Here was no poem, but here was poetry, and a sure index where the'subtle muse was about to pitch her tent and find the argument of her song. It was the human soul in these last ages striving for a just publication of itself. Add to this, however, the great praise of Wordsworth, that more than any other contemporary bard he is pervaded with a reverence of somewhat higher than (conscious) thought. There is in him that property common to all great poets — a wisdom of humanity, which is superior to any talents which they exert. It is the«wisest part of Shakespeare and Milton, for they are poets by the free course which they allow to the inform- ing soul, which through their eyes beholdeth again and blesseth the things which it hath made. The soul is superior to its knowledge, wiser than any of its works." In the general Preface to his poems, where Words- worth discusses the principles of the poetic art, he wrote: "The imagination is conscious of an indestruct- ible dominion ; the soul may fall away, from its not being able to sustain its grandeur, but if once felt and acknowledged, by no act of any other faculty of the mind can it be relaxed, impaired or diminished. Fancy is given to quicken and to beguile the temporal part of our nature; Imagination to incite and support the eternal." And in the appendix : "Faith was given to man that his affections, detached from the treasures of time, might be inclined to settle on those of eternity : the elevation of his nature, which this habit produces on earth, being to him ENGLAND. ioi a presumptive evidence of a future state of existence, and giving him a title to partake of its holiness. The reli- gious man values what he sees, chiefly as an ' imperfect shadowing forth' of what he is incapable of seeing." Was this an echo from the German Jacobi, whose doctrine of Faith had been some time abroad in the intellectual world ? The ode " Intimations of Immortality from Recollec- tions of Early Childhood," was a clear reminiscence of Platonism. This famous poem w r as the favorite above all other effusions of Wordsworth with the Transcendent- alists, who held it to be the highest expression of his genius, and most characteristic of its bent. Emerson .in his last discourse on Immortality, calls it "the best modern essay on the subject." Many passages in the "Excursion" attest the transcendental character of the author's faith. Coleridge quotes the following lines : For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes The still sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man ; A motion and a spirit that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things." 102 TRANSCENDENTALISM. The passage quoted next suggests the very language of Fichte in his Bestimmung des Menschen, "In der Liebe nur ist das Leben, ohne Sie ist Tod und Vernich- tung." This is the genuine course, the aim, the end, Of prescient Reason ; all conclusions else Are abject, vain, presumptuous and perverse, The faith partaking of those holy times. Life, I repeat, is energy of Love, Divine or human; exercised in pain, In strife and tribulation ; and ordained, If so approved and sanctified, to pass Through shades and silent rest, to endless joy. Another extract recalls the " pantheism " of Schell- ing. Thou — who didst wrap the cloud Of infancy around us, that Thyself Therein with our simplicity awhile Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed, Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep, Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restorest us, daily, to the powers of sense And reason's steadfast rule, — Thou, thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which Thou includest, as the Sea her Waves. For adoration Thou endurest ; endure For consciousness the motions of Thy will ; For apprehension those transcendent truths Of the pure Intellect, that stand as laws ; Submission constituting strength and power, Even to Thy Being's infinite majesty ! ENGLAND. 103 Having before me a copy of Wordsworth's poems, once the possession of an earnest Transcendentalist, I find these, and many lines of similar import, underlined; showing how dear the English poet was to the American reader. There were others who held and enunciated the new faith that came from Germany, the transfigured pro- testantism of the land of Luther. But these three names will suffice to indicate the wealth of England's contribu- tion to the spiritual life of the New World — Coleridge, Carlyle, Wordsworth — the philosopher, the preacher, the poet ; the man of thought, the man of letters, the man of imagination. These embrace all the methods by which the fresh enthusiasm for the soul communicated its power. These three were everywhere read, and everywhere talked of. They occupied prominent places in the public eye. They sank into the shadow only when the faith that glorified them began to decline. It is remarkable that Emerson in the paper just quo- ted, written in 1840, passes from Wordsworth to Landor ; while the author of the other paper, written in 1843, passes, and almost with an expression of relief, from Wordsworth to Tennyson, the new poet whose breaking glory threatened the morning star with eclipse. By this time Transcendentalism was on the wane. The " Dial" marked for one year longer the hours of the great day, and then was removed from its place, and the scientific method of measuring progress was introduced. Words- worth from year to year had a diminishing proportion of admirers : from year to year the admirers of Tennyson 104 TRANSCENDENTALISM. increased. As early as 1843 the passion for music, color, and external polish was manifest. Tennyson's elegance and subtlety, his rich fancy, his mastery of language, his metrical skill, his taste for the sumptuous and gorgeous, were winning their way to popularity. The critic in the "Dial" has misgivings: lt In these boudoirs of damask and alabaster one is further off from stern nature and human life than in "Lalla Rookh" and "The Loves of the Angels." Amid swinging censers and perfumed lamps, amidst velvet and glory, we long for rain and frost. Otto of roses is good, but wild air is better." But the sweets have been tasted, and have spoiled the re-lish for the old homeliness. For the man who loved him the charm of Wordsworth was idyllic ; for the few who bent the head to him it was mystical and prophetic. The idyllic sentiment palled on the taste. It was a re- action from artificial forms of sensibility, and having en- joyed its day, submitted to the law of change that called it into being. The moral earnestness, the mystic ideal- ism became unpopular along with the school of philoso- phy from which it sprung, and gave place to the real- ism of the Victorian bards, who expressed the sensuous spirit of a more external age. Transcendentalism lurks in corners of England now. The high places of thought are occupied by men who approach the great problems from the side of nature, and through matter feel after mind ; by means of the senses attempt the heights of spirit. VI. TRANSCENDENTALISM IN NEW ENGLAND. The title of this Chapter is in a sense misleading. For with some truth it may be said that there never was such a thing as Transcendentalism out of New England. In Germany and France there was a transcendental phil- osophy, held by cultivated men, taught in schools, and professed by many thoughtful and earnest people ; but it never affected society in, its organized institutions or practical interests. In old England, this philosophy influenced poetry and art, but left the daily existence of men and wonlen untouched. But in New England, the ideas entertained by the foreign thinkers took root in the native soil and blossomed out in every form of social life. The philosophy assumed full proportions, produced fruit according to its kind, created a new social order for itself, or rather showed what sort of social order it would create under favoring conditions. Its new heavens and new earth were made visible, if but for a moment, and in a wintry season. Hence, when we speak of Trans- cendentalism, we mean New England Transcendentalism. New England furnished the only plot of ground on the planet, where the transcendental philosophy had a chance to show what it was and what it proposed. The forms 5* 106 TRANSCENDENTALISM. of life there were, in a measure, plastic. There were no immovable prejudices, no fixed and unalterable traditions. Laws and usages were fluent, malleable at all events. The sentiment of individual freedom was active ; the truth was practically acknowledged, that it takes all sorts of people to make a world, and the many minds of the many men were respected. No orders of men, no aristo- cracies of intellect, no privileged classes of thought were established. The old world supplied such litera- ture as there was, in science, law, philosophy, ethics, theology ; but an astonishing intellectual activity seized upon it, dealt with it in genuine democratic fashion, classified it, accepted it, dismissed it, paying no undue regard to its foreign reputation. Experiments in thought and life, of even audacious description, were made, not in defiance of precedent — for precedent was hardly re- spected enough to be defied — but in innocent uncon- sciousness of precedent. ' A feeling was abroad that all things must be new in the new world. There was call for immediate application of ideas to life. In the old world, thoughts remained cloistered a generation before any questioned their bearing on public or private affairs. In the new world, the thinker was called on to justify him- self on the spot by building an engine, and setting some- thing in motion. The test of a truth was its availability. The popular faith in the capacities of men to make states, laws, religions for themselves, supplied a ground work for the new philosophy. The philosophy of sensation, making great account, as it did, of circumstances, arrangements, customs usages, rules of education and discipline, was alien NEW ENGLAND. 107 and disagreeable to people who, having just emancipated themselves from political dependence on the mother country, were full of confidence in their ability to set up society for themselves. The philosophy that laid its foun- dations in human nature, and placed stress on the organic capacities and endowments of the mind, was as congenial as the opposite system was foreign. Every native New Englander was at heart, whether he suspected it or not, radically and instinctively a disciple of Fichte or Schel- ling, of Cousin or Jouffroy. The religion of New England was Protestant and of the most intellectual type. Romanism had no hold on the thinking people of Boston. None beside the Irish laboring and menial classes were Catholics, and their religion was regarded as the lowest form of ceremonial superstition. The Congregational system favored individuality of thought and action. The orthodox theology, in spite of its arbitrary character and its fixed type of supernaturalism, exercised its professors severely in speculative questions, and furnished occasions for discernment and criticism which made reason all but supreme over faith. This the- ology too had its purely spiritual side — nay, it was essen- tially spiritual. Its root ran back into Platonism, and its flower was a mysticism which, on the intellectual side, bordered closely on Transcendentalism. The charge that the Trinitarian system, in its distinguishing features, was of Platonic, and not of Jewish origin, was a confession that it was born of the noblest idealism of the race. So in truth it was, and so well-instructed Trinitarians will confess that it was. The Platonic philosophy being transcendental 108 TRANSCENDENTALISM. in its essence and tendency, communicated this char- acter to Christian speculation. The skeletons of an- cient polemics were buried deep beneath the soil of orthodoxy, and were not supposed to be a part of the structure of modern beliefs, but there nevertheless they were. The living faith of New England, in its spiritual aspects, betrayed its ancestry. The speculation had be- come Christian, the powers claimed by pagan philosophers for the mind were ascribed to the influences of the Holy Spirit and the truths revealed in consciousness were truths of the Gospel ; but the fact of immediate commu- nication between the soul of the believer and its Christ was so earnestly insisted on, the sympathy was repre- sented as being of so kindred and organic a nature, that in reading the works of the masters of New England theology, it requires an effort to forget that the specula- tive basis of their faith was not the natural basis of the philosopher, but the supernatural one of the believer. The spiritual writings of Jonathan Edwards, the " Treatise on the Religious Affections" especially, breathe the sweetest spirit of idealism. Indeed, when- ever orthodoxy spread its wings and rose into the region of faith, it lost itself in the sphere where the human soul and the divine were in full concurrence. Transcendentalism simply claimed for all men what Protestant Christianity claimed for its own elect. That adherents of the sensuous philosophy professed the orthodox doctrines, is a circumstance that throws the above statement into bolder relief. For these people gave to the system the hard, external, dogmatical charac- NEW ENGLAND. 109 ter which in New England provoked the Unitarian reaction. The beliefs in scripture inspiration, incar- nation, atonement, election, predestination, depravity, fall, regeneration, redemption, deprived of their interior meaning, became ragged heaps of dogmatism, unbeauti- ful, incredible, hateful. Assault came against them from the quarter of common intelligence and the rational understanding. The sensuous philosophy associated with the school of Locke, — which Edwards and the like of him scorned; — fell upon the fallen system and plucked it unmercifully. Never was easier work than that of the early Unitarian critics. The body of orthodoxy having lost its soul, w r as a very unsightly carcass, — so evidently, to every sense, a carcass, that they who had respected it as a celestial creation, and could not be persuaded that this was all they respected, allowed the scavengers to take it away, only protesting that the thing disposed of was not the revealed gospel, or anything but a poor effigy of it. The Unitarians as a class belonged to the school of Locke, which discarded the doctrine of innate ideas, and its kindred beliefs. Unitarianism from the beginning showed affinity with this school, and avowed it more distinctly than idealists avowed Trinitarianism. Paul of Samosata, Arius, Pelagius, Socinus, the Swiss, Polish, English advocates of the same general theology and christology were, after their several kinds, di'sciples of the same philosophical system. Unitarianism, it was remarked, has rarely, if ever, been taught or held by any man of eminence in the church who was a Platonist. no TRANSCENDENTALISM. The Unitarians of New England, good scholars* dareful reasoners, clear and exact thinkers, accomplished .men of letters, humane in sentiment, sincere in moral inten- tion, belonged, of course with individual exceptions, to the class which looked without for knowledge, rather than wifhin for inspiration. The Unitarian in religion was a whig in politics, a conservative in- literature, art and social ethics. The Unitarian divine was more familiar with Tillotson than with Cudworth, and more in. love with William Paley than with Joseph Butler. He was strong in the " Old English" classics, and though a confessed devotee to no school in philosophy, was addicted to the prevailing fashion of intelligent, cultiva- ted good sense. The Unitarian was disquieted by mysticism, enthusiasm and rapture. Henry More was unintelligible to him, and Robert Fludd disgusting. He had no sympathy with Helvetius, D'Holbach, Did- erot or Voltaire, those fierce disturbers of intellectual peace ; he had as little with William Law and Cole- ridge, dreamers and visionaries, who substituted vapor for solid earth. The Unitarian leaders were distin- guished by practical wisdom, sober judgment, and balanced thoughtfulness, that weighed opinions in the scale of evidence and argument. Even Dr. Channing clung to the philosophical traditions that were his inheritance from England. The splendid things he said about the dignity of human nature, the divinity of the soul, the moral kinship with Christ, the inspiration of the moral sentiment, the power of moral intuition, habitual and characteristic as they were, scarcely justify the NE W ENGLAND. 1 1 1 ascription to him of sympathy with philosophical idealism. His tenacious adherence to the record of miracle as attesting the mission of the Christ, and his constant exaltation of the Christ above humanity, suggest that the first principles of the transcendental philosophy had not been distinctly accepted, even if they were distinctly apprehended. The following extract from a letter written in 1819, expresses Dr. Channing's feeling toward Christ, a feeling never essen- tially altered: "Jesus Christ existed before he came into the world, and in a state of great honor and felicity. He was known, esteemed, beloved, revered in the family of heaven. He was entrusted with the execution of the most sublime purposes of his Father." About the same time he wrote: "Jesus ever lives, and is ever active for mankind. He is Mediator, Intercessor, Lord, and Saviour ; He has a permanent and constant con- nection with mankind. He is through all time, now as well as formerly, the active and efficient friend of the human race." The writer of such words was certainly not a Transcendentalist in philosophy. His biographer, himself a brilliant Transcendentalist, admits as much. " His soul" he says, " was illuminated with the idea of the absolute immutable glory of the Moral Good ; and reverence for conscience is the key to his whole doctrine of human destiny and duty. Many difficult metaphysical points he passed wholly by, as being out of the sphere alike of intuition and of experience. He believed, to be sure, in the possibility of man's gaining some insight of Universal Order, and respected the lofty 1 1 2 TRANS CENDENTALISM. aspiration which prompts men to seek a perfect know- ledge of the Divine laws ; but he considered pretensions to absolute science as quite premature ; saw more boastfulness than wisdom in ancient and modern •schemes of philosophy, and was not a little amused at the complacent confidence with which quite evidently fallible theorists assumed to stand at the centre, and to scan and depict the panorama of existence." In a letter of 1840, referring to the doctrines of Mr. Parker and that school of thinkers, he writes : ''I see and feel the harm done by this crude speculation, whilst I also see much nobleness to bind me to its advocates. In its opinions generally I see nothing to give me hope. I am somewhat disappointed that this new movement is to do so little for the spiritual regeneration of society." A year later, he tells James Martineau that the spiritual- ists (meaning the Transcendentalists) "in identifying themselves a good deal with Cousin's crude system, have lost the life of an original movement. They are anxious to defend the soul's immediate connection with God, and are in danger of substituting private inspiration for Christianity." What he knew of Kant, Schelling and Fichte, through Mad. de Stael and Coleridge, he welcomed as falling in with his own conceptions of the grandeur of the human mind and will ; but his aquaint- ance with them was never complete, and if it had been, he would perhaps have been repelled by the intellectual, as strongly as he was attracted by the moral teaching. In this matter the sentiment of Channing went beyond his philosophy. The following extracts taken at random NEW ENGLAND. 113 from a volume of discourses edited in 1873 by his nephew, under the title " The Perfect Life," show that Channing was a Transcendentalist in feeling, whatever he may have been in thought. "The religious principle, is, without doubt, the noblest working of human nature. This principle God im- planted for Himself. Through this the human mind cor- responds to the Supreme Divinity." "The idea of God is involved in the primitive and most universal idea of Reason ; and is one of its central principles." " We have, each of us, the spiritual eye to see, the mind to know, the heart to love, the will to obey God." " A spiritual light, brighter than that of noon, per- vades our daily life. The cause of our not seeing is in ourselves." " The great lesson is, that there is in human nature an element truly Divine, and worthy of all reverence ; that the Infinite which is mirrored in the outward universe, is yet more brightly imaged in the inward spiritual world." " They who assert the greatness of human nature, see as much of guilt as the man of worldly wisdom. But amidst the passions and selfishness of men they see another element — a Divine element — a spiritual princi- ple." " This moral principle — the supreme law in man — is the Law of the Universe, the very Law to which the highest beings are subject, and in obeying which they find their elevatio-n and their joy." " The Soul itself, — in its powers and affections, in its unquenchable thirst and aspiration for unattained good, gives signs of a Nature made for an interminable pro- gress, such as cannot be now conceived." The debt which Transcendentalism owed to Unitarian- ism was not speculative ; neither was it immediate or di- 114 TRANSCENDENTALISM. rect. The Unitarians, clergy as well as laity, so far as the latter comprehended their position, acknowledged themselves to be friends of free thought in religion. This was their distinction. They disavowed sympathy with dogmatism, partly because such dogmatism as there was existed in the minds of their theological foes, and was felt in such persecution as society permitted ; and partly because they honestly respected the human mind, and valued thought for its own sake. They had no creed, and no system of philosophy on which a creed could be, by common consent, built. Rather were they open in- quirers, who asked questions and waited for rational an- swers, having no definite apprehension of the issue to which their investigations tended, but with room enough within the accepted theology to satisfy them, and work enough on the prevailing doctrines to keep them em- ployed. Under these circumstances, .they honestly but incautiously professed a principle broader than they were able to stand by, and avowed the absolute freedom of the human mind as their characteristic faith ; instead of a creed, the right to judge all creeds ; instead of a sys- tem, authority to try every system by rules of evidence. The intellectual among them were at liberty to entertain views which an orthodox mind instinctively shrank from ; to read books which an orthodox believer would not have touched with the ends of his fingers. The litera- ture on their tables represented a wide mental activity. Their libraries contained authors never found before on ministerial shelves. Skepticism throve by what it fed on ; and, before they had become fully aware of the pos- NE W ENGLAND. l r 5 sible results of their diligent study, their powers had ac- quired a confidence that encouraged ventures beyond the walls of Zion. This profession of free inquiry, and the practice of it within the extensive area of Protestant theology, opened the door to the new speculation which carried unlooked-for heresies in its bosom ; and before the gates could be closed the insidious enemy had pene- trated to the citadel. There was idealism in New England prior to the in- troduction of Transcendentalism. Idealism is of no clime or age. It has its proportion of disciples in every period and in the apparently most uncongenial countries; a full proportion might have been looked for in New England. But when Emerson appeared, the name of Idealism was legion. He alone was competent to form a school, and as soon as he rose, the scholars trooped about him. By sheer force of genius Emerson anticipa- ted the results of the transcendental philosophy, defined its axioms and ran out their inferences to the end. Without help from abroad, or with such help only as none but he could use, he might have domesticated in Massachusetts an idealism as heroic as Fichte's, as beautiful as Schelling's ; but it would have lacked the dialectical basis of the great German systems. Transcendentalism, properly so called, was imported in foreign packages. Few read German, but most read French. As early as 1804, Degerando lectured on Kant's philosophy, in Paris ; and as early as 1813 Mad. de Stael gave an account of it. The number of copies of the original works of either Kant, Fichte, Jacobi or n6 . TRANSCENDENTALISM. Schelling, that found their way to the United States, was inconsiderable. Half a dozen eager students obtained isolated books of Herder, Schleiermacher, De Wette and other theological and biblical writers, read them, trans- lated chapters from them, or sent notices of them to the Christian Examiner. The works of Coleridge made familiar the leading ideas of Schelling. The foreign reviews reported the results and processes of French and German speculation. In 1827, Thomas Carlyle wrote, in the Edinburgh Review, his great articles on Richter and the State of German Literature; in 1828 appeared his essay on Goethe. Mr. Emerson presented these and other papers as " Carlyle's Miscellanies" to the American public. In 1838 George Ripley began the publication of the "Specimens of Foreign Standard Literature," a series which extended to fourteen vol- umes ; the first and second comprising philosophical miscellanies by Cousin, JourTroy and Constant, translated with introductions by Mr. Ripley himself; the third devoted to Goethe and Schiller, with elaborate and dis- criminating prefaces by John S. Dwight ; the fourth giving Eckermann's Conversations with Goethe, done into English by Margaret Fuller; the three next contain- ing Menzel's German Literature, by Prof. C. C. Felton ; the eighth and ninth introducing Win. H. Channing's version of JoufTroy's Introduction to Ethics ; the tenth and eleventh, DeWette's Theodor, by James Freeman Clarke; the twelfth and thirteenth, DeWette's Ethics, by Samuel Osgood; and the last offering samples of German Lyrics, by Charles T. Brooks. These volumes, which were re- NE W ENGLAND. 1 1 7 markably attractive, both in form and contents, brought many readers into a close acquaintance with the teaching and the spirit of writers of the new school. The Philosophical Miscellanies of Cousin were much noticed by the press, George Bancroft in especial sparing no pains to commend them and the views they presented. The spiritual philosophy had no more fervent or eloquent champion than he. No reader of his " History of the United States," has forgotten the noble tribute paid to it under the name of Quakerism, or the striking parallel between the two systems repre- sented in the history by John Locke and Wm. Penn, both of whom framed constitutions for the new world. For keenness of apprehension and fullness of statement the passages deserve to be quoted here. They occur in the XVI. chapter of the History. " The elements of humanity are always the same, the inner light dawns upon every nation, and is the same in every age ; and the French revolution was a result of the same principles as those of George Fox, gaining domin- inion over the mind of Europe. They are expressed in the burning and often profound eloquence of Rousseau ; they reappear in the masculine philosophy of Kant The professor of Konigsberg, like Fox and Barclay and Penn, derived philosophy from the voice in the soul ; like them, he made the oracle within the categorical rule of practical morality, the motive to disinterested virtue ; like them, he esteemed the Inner Light, which discerns universal and necessary truths, an element of humanity ; and therefore his philosophy claims for humanity the right of ever renewed progress and reform. If the Quakers disguised their doctrine under the form of n8 TRANSCENDENTALISM. theology, Kant concealed it for a season under the jargon of a nervous but unusual diction. But Schiller has reproduced the great idea in beautiful verse ; Chat- eaubriand avowed himself its advocate ; Coleridge has repeated the doctrine in misty language ; it beams through the poetry of Lamartine and Wordsworth ; while in the country of beautiful prose, the eloquent Cousin, listening to the same eternal voice which connects humanity with universal reason, has gained a wide fame for " the divine principle," and in explaining the harmony between that light and the light of Christianity, has often unconsciously borrowed the language, and employed the arguments of Barclay and Penn." A few pages later is the brilliant passage describing the essential difference between this philosophy and that of Locke : " Locke, like William Penn, was tolerant; bothjoved freedom, both cherished truth in sincerity. But Locke kindled the torch of liberty at the fires of tradition ; Penn at the living light in the soul. Locke sought truth through the senses and the outward world ; Penn looked inward to the divine revelations in every mind. Locke- compared the soul to a sheet of white paper, just as Hobbes had compared it to a slate on which time and chance might scrawl their experience. To Penn the soul was an organ which of itself instinctively breathes divine harmonies, like those musical instruments which are so curiously and perfectly formed, that when once set in motion, they of themselves give forth all the melodies designed by the artist that made them. To Locke, conscience is nothing else than our own opinion of our own actions ; to Penn, it is the image of God and his oracle in the soul. ... In studying the understanding Locke begins with the sources of knowledge ; Penn with an inventory of our intellectual treasures. . . . The system of NE W ENGL AND. 1 1 9 Locke lends itself to contending factions of the most opposite interests and purposes ; the doctrine of Fox and Penn, being but the common creed of humanity, forbids division and insures the highest moral unity. To Locke, happiness is pleasure, and things are good and evil only in reference to pleasure and pain ; and to li inquire after the highest good is as absurd as to dispute whether the best relish be in apples, plums or nuts." Penn esteemed hap- piness to lie in the subjection of the baser instincts to the instinct of Deity in the breast ; good and evil to be eternally and always as unlike as truth and falsehood ; and the inquiry after the highest good to involve the. purpose of existence. Locke says plainly that, but for rewards and punishments beyond the grave, ' it is cer- tainly right to eat and drink, and enjoy what we delight in.' Penn, like Plato and Fenelon, maintained the doc- trine so terrible to despots, that God is to be loved for His own sake, and virtue to be practised for its intrinsic loveliness. Locke derives the idea of infinity from the senses, describes it as purely negative, and attributes it to nothing but space, duration and number ; Penn derived the idea from the soul, and ascribed it to truth and virtue and God. Locke declares immortality a matter with which reason has nothing to do ; and that revealed truth must be sustained by outward signs and visible acts of power ; Penn saw truth by its own light and sum- moned the soul to bear witness to its own glory." The justice of the comparison, in the first part of the above extract, of Quakerism with Transcendentalism, may be disputed. Some may be of opinion that inasmuch as Quakerism traces the source of the Inner Light to the supernatural illumination of the Holy Spirit, while Tran- scendentalism regards it as a natural endowment of the human mind, the two are fundamentally opposed while superficially in agreement. However this may be, the 120 TRANSCENDENTALISM. practical issues of the two coincide, and the truth of the contrast presented between the philosophies, designated by the name of Locke on the one side, and of Penn on the other, will not be disputed. Mr. Bancroft's state- ment, though dazzling, is exact. It was made in 1837. The third edition from which the above citation was made, was published in 1838, the year of Mr. Emerson's address to the Divinity students at Cambridge. Mr. Emerson had shown his hand plainly several years before. In 1832 he raised the whole issue in the "epoch making" sermon, in which he advanced the view of the communion service that led to his resignation of the Christian ministry'. His elder brother, William, returning from his studies in Germany, was turned from the profession of the church which he had purposed entering, to the law, by similar scruples. In 1834, James Walker printed in the " Christian Examiner " an address, which was the same year published as a tract, by the American Unitarian Association, entitled u The Philos- ophy of Man's Spiritual Nature in regard to the found- ations of Faith," wherein he took frankly the transcen- dental ground, contending : " That the existence of those spiritual faculties and ca- pacities which are assumed as the foundation of religion in the soul of man, is attested, and put beyond controversy by the revelations of consciousness ; that religion in the soul, consisting as it does, of a manifestation and develop- ment of these spiritual faculties and capacities, is as much a reality in itself, and enters as essentially into our idei of a perfect man, as the corresponding manifestation and development of the reasoning faculties, a sense of NEW ENGLAND. 12 r justice, or the affections of sympathy and benevolence; and that " from the acknowledged existence and reality of spiritual impressions or perceptions, we* may and do assume the existence and reality of the spiritual world ; just as from the acknowledged existence and reality of sensible impressions or perceptions, we may and do assume the existence and realities of the sensible world. " In this discourse, for originally it was a discourse, the worst species of infidelity is charged to the " Sensational " philosophy, and at the close, the speaker in impressive language, said : " Let us hope that a better philosophy than the degrading sensualism out of which most forms of infidelity have grown, will prevail, and that the minds of the rising generation will be thoroughly imbued with it. Let it be a philosophy which recognizes the higher nature of man, and aims, in a chastened and reverential spirit, to unfold the mysteries of his higher life. Let it be a philosophy which comprehends the soul, a soul suscept- ible of religion, of the sublime principle of faith, of a faith which ' entereth into that within the veil.' Let it be a philosophy which continually reminds us of our intimate relations to the spiritual, world ; which opens to us new sources of consolation in trouble, and new sources of life in death — nay, which teaches us that what we call death is but the dying of all that is mortal, that nothing but life may remain." In 1840, the same powerful advocate of the transcend- ental doctrine, in a discourse before the alumni of the Cambridge Divinity School, declared that the return to a higher order of ideas, to a living faith in God, in Christ, and in the church, had been promoted by such 122 TRANSCENDENTALISM. men as Schleiermacher and De Wette ; gave his opinion that the religious community had reason to look with distrust and dread on a philosophy which limited the ideas of the human mind to the information imparted by the senses, and denied the existence of spiritual elements in the nature of man ; and again welcomed the philosophy taught in England by Butler, Reid' and Coleridge ; in Germany, by Kant, Jacobi and Schleier- macher ; in France, by Cousin, JoufTroy and Degerando. Such words from James Walker, always a favorite teacher with young men, a mind of judicial authority in the liberal community, and at that time Professor of Moral Philosophy at Harvard College, made a deep impression. When he said : " Men may put down Trans- cendentalism if they can, but they must first deign to comprehend its principles," the most conservative began to surmise that there must be something in Transcend- entalism. But before this the movement was well under way. In 1836, Emerson's "Nature" broke through the shell of accepted opinions on a very essential subject : true, but five hundred copies were sold in twelve years ; critics and philosophers could make nothing of it ; but those who read it recognized signs of a new era, even if they could not describe them ; and many who did not read it felt in the atmosphere the change it introduced. The idealism of the little book was uncompromising. " In the presence of ideas we feel that the outward circumstance is a dream and a shade. Whilst we wait NEW ENGLAND. 123 in this Olympus of gods, Ave think of nature as an appendix to the soul. We ascend into their region, and know that these are the thoughts of the Supreme Being." * * * " Idealism is an hypothesis to account for nature by other principles than those of carpentry and chemistry. It acquaints us with the total disparity between the evidence of our own being, and the evidence of the world's being. The world is a divine dream, from which we may presently awake to the glories and certainties of day." The same year, George Ripley reviewed in the " Christian Examiner," Martineau's "Rationale of Religious Enquiry." The article was furiously assailed in the Boston Daily Advertiser. Mr. Ripley replied in the paper of the next day, vindicating the ideas of the review and of the book as being strictly in consonance with the principles of liberal Christianity. In 1838 came the wonderful "address" before the Cambridge Divinity School, which stirred the soul of aspiring young men, and, wakened the wrath of sedate old ones. It was idealism in its full blaze, and it made the germs of Transcendentalism struggle in the sods. The next year Andrews Norton attacked the new philosophy in a discourse before the same audience, on " The Latest Form of Infidelity." The doctrine of that discourse was "Sensationalism" in its boldest aspect. "Christ was commissioned by God to speak to us in His name, and to make known to us, on His authority, those truths which it most concerns us to know ; and there can be no greater miracle than this. No proof of His divine commission could be afforded but through miraculous displays of God's power. Nothing is left that 124 TRANSCENDENTALISM. can be called Christianity, if its miraculous character be denied. Its essence is gone ; its evidence is annihilated." * * * " To the demand for certainty let it come from whom it may, I answer that I know of no absolute certainty beyond the limit of momentary consciousness ; a certainty that vanishes the instant it exists, and is lost in the region of metaphysical doubt." . . . " There can be no intuition, no direct perception of the truth of Christianity, no metaphysical certainty." . . . " Of the facts on which religion is founded, we can pretend to no assurance except that derived from the testimony of God from the Christian revelation." A pamphlet defending the discourse contained pass- ages like the following: " The doctrine that the mind possesses a faculty of intuitively discovering the truths of religion, is not only utterly untenable, but the proposi- tion is of such a character that it cannot well bear the test of being distinctly stated. The question respecting the existence of such a faculty is not difficult to be decided. We are not conscious of possessing any such faculty ; and there can be no other proof of its existence. Its defenders shrink from presenting it in broad daylight. They are disposed to keep it out of view behind a cloud of words." . . . " Consciousness or intuition can inform us of nothing but what exists in our own minds, including the relations of our own ideas. It is therefore not an intelligible error, but a mere absurdity to main- tain that we are conscious, or have an intuitive know- ledge of the being of God, of our own immortality, of the revelation of God through Christ, or of any other fact of religion." . . . "The religion of which they (the Transcendentalists) speak, therefore, exists merely, if it exist at all, in undefined and unintelligible feelings, having reference, perhaps, to certain imaginations, the result of impressions communicated in childhood or produced by the visible signs of religious belief existing around us, or awakened by the beautiful and magnificent spectacles which nature presents." NEW ENGLAND. 125 Mr. Norton spoke with biting severity of the masters of German philosophy, criticism, and literature, and exhausted his sarcasm on the address of Mr. Emerson delivered the previous year. To Mr. Norton, Mr. Ripley made prompt and earnest, though temperate, reply in three long and powerful letters, devoted mainly to a refutation of his adversary's accusations against Spinoza, Schleiermacher, De Wette, and the philosophic theologians of Germany. Not till the end does he take issue with the fundamental positions of Mr. Norton's philosophy; then he brands as " revolting" the doctrine that " there can be no intuition, no direct perception of the truth of Christianity;" that "the feeling or direct perception of religious truth " is an " imaginary faculty ;" and affirms his conviction that "the principle that the soul has no faculty to perceive spiritual truth, is con- tradicted by the universal consciousness of man." "Does the body see," he asks, "and is the spirit blind ? No, man has the faculty for feeling and per- ceiving religious truth. So far from being imaginary, it is the highest reality of which the pure soul is conscious. Can I be more certain that I am capable of looking out and admiring the forms of external beauty, ' the frail and weary weed in which God dresses the soul that he has called into time,' than that I can also look within, and commune with the fairer forms of truth and holiness which plead for my love, as visitants from Heaven ? " The controversy was taken up by other pens. In 1840, Theodore Parker, speaking as a plain man under the name of Levi Blodgett, "moved and handled the 1 2 6 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Previous Question " after a fashion that betrayed the practised' thinker and scribe. Mr. Parker occupied sub- stantially the same ground that was taken by James Walker in 1834. ''The germs of religion, both the germs of religious principle and religious sentiment, must be born in man, or innate, as our preacher says. I reckon that man is by nature a religious being, i. e. that he was made to be religious, as much as an ox was made to eat grass. The existence of God is a fact given in our nature : it is not something discovered by a process of reasoning, by a long series of deductions from facts ; nor yet is it the last generalization from phenomena observed in the universe of mind or matter. But it is a truth funda- mental in our nature ; given outright by God ; a truth which comes to light as soon as self-consciousness begins. Still further, I take a sense of dependence on God to be a natural and essential sentiment of the soul, as much as feeling, seeing and hearing are natural sensations of the body. Here, then, are the religious instincts which lead man to God and religion, just as naturally as the intellectual instincts lead him to truth, and animal instincts to his food. As there is light for the eye, sound for the ear, food for the palate, friends for the affections, beauty for the imagination, truth for the reason, duty for conscience — so there is God for the religious sentiment or sense of dependence on Him. Now all these presuppose one another, as a want es- sential to the structure of man's mind or body pre- supposes something to satisfy it. And as the sensation of hunger presupposes food to satisfy it, so the sense of dependence on God presupposes his existence and character." From these premises Mr. Parker proceeds to discuss the questions about miracles, inspiration, revelation, the NE W ENGLAND. 1 2 J character and functions of Jesus, the Christ, and kindred matters belonging to the general controversy. The year following, he preached the sermon on the "Transient and Permanent in Christianity," which brought out the issues between the "Sensationalists" and the "Trans- cendentalists," and was the occasion of detaching the latter from the original body. The first series of Emerson's "Essays" containing "Self Reliance," "Compensation," "Spiritual Laws," " The Over Soul," " Circles," " Intellect," was published during that year, and was followed almost immediately by " The Transcendentalist," a lecture read in Masonic Temple, B'pston. In this lecture occurs the following allusion to Kant : " The Idealism of the present day acquired the name of Transcendental from the use of that term by Imman- uel Kant of Konigsberg, who replied to the skeptical philosophy of Locke, which insisted that there was nothing in the intellect which was not previously in the experience of the senses, by showing that there was a very important class of ideas or imperative forms, which did not come by experience, but through which experi- ence was acquired ; that these were intuitions of the mind itself; and he denominated them Transcendental forms. The extraordinary profoundness and precision of that man's thinking have given vogue to his nomencla- ture in Europe and America, to that extent that what- ever belongs to the class of intuitive thought is popularly called, at the present day, Transcendental." # # * "The Transcendentalist adopts the whole connection of spiritual doctrine. He believes in miracles, in the perpetual openness of the human mind to new influx of light and power ; he believes in inspiration and ecstasy. 128 TRANSCENDENTALISM. He wishes that the spiritual principle should be suffered to demonstrate itself to the end, in all possible applica- tions to the state of man, without the admission of any- thing unspiritual, that is, anything positive, dogmatic, personal." From what has been said it may be inferred that Transcendentalism in New England was a movement within the limits of " liberal " Christianity or Unitarian- ism as it was called, and had none but a religious aspect. Such an inference would be narrow. In 1838, Orestes Augustus Brownson started "The Boston Quarterly Review," instituted for the discussion of questions in politics, art, literature, science, philosophy and religion. The editor who was the principal, and almost the sole writer, frankly declares that "he had no creed, no distinct doctrines to support whatever ; " that he " aimed to startle, and made it a point to be as paradoxical and extravagant as he could, without doing violence to his own reason or conscience." This avowal was made, in 1857, after Mr. Brownson had become a Roman Catholic. The pages of the Review prove the writer to have been a pronounced Transcendentalist. A foreign journal called him " the Coryphceus of the sect," a designation which, at the time, was meekly accepted. Mr. Brownson was a remarkable man, remarkable for intellectual force, and equally for intellectual wilfulness. His mind was restless, audacious, swift ; his self asser- tion was immense ; his thoughts came in floods ; his literary style was admirable for freshness, terseness and vigor. Of rational stability of principle he had NE W ENGLAND. 1 2 9 nothing, but was completely at the mercy of every novelty in speculation. That others thought as he did, was enough to make him think otherwise ; that he thought as he had six months before was a signal that it was time for him to strike his tent and move on. An- experimenter in systems, a taster of speculations, he passed rapidly from one phase to another, so that his friends ascribed his steadfastness to Romanism, to the fatigue of intellectual travelling. Mr. Brownson was born in Stockbridge, Vt., Sept. 16, 1803.. His educa- tion was scanty ; his nurture was neglected ; his discipline, if such it can be called, was to the last degree unwise. The child had visions, fancied he had received communications from the Christ, and held spiritual intercourse with the Virgin Mary, Angels and Saints. Of a sensitive nature on the moral and spiritual side, interested from boyhood in religious speculations, he had, before he reached man's estate, asked and answered, in his own passionate way, all the deepest questions of destiny. At the age of 21 , he passed from Super- naturalism to Rationalism ; at 22 became a Universalist minister; at 28 adopted what he called ''The Religion of Humanity ;" the year following, joined the Unitarian ministry. At this time he studied French and German, and became fervidly addicted to philosophy. Benjamin Constant's theory of religion fascinated him by its brilliant generalizations, and its novel readings of Mythology, and was immediately adopted because it interested him and fell in with his mood of mind, In 1833, he accepted Cousin's philosophy as he had accepted 130 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Constant's, "attending to those things that I could appropriate to my purposes." In 1836 he organized the M Society for Christian Union and Progress " in Boston, and continued to be its minister till 1843. All this time he was dallying with Socialism, principally in the form of St. Simonianism ; thought of himself as possibly the precursor of the Messiah ; threw out strange heresies on the subject of property and the modern industrial system ; and was suspected, he declared afterwards unjustly suspected, of holding loose opinions on love and marriage. " New Views of Christianity, Society and the Church," appeared in 1836, a little book, written in answer to objections brought against Christianity as being a system of extravagant spiritualism. This idea Mr. Brownson combated, by pointing out the true character of the religion of Jesus as contrasted with the schemes that had borne his name, exposing the corrup- tions it had undergone, during the succeeding ages, from Protestantism as well as from Romanism, and indicating the method and the signs of a return to the primeval faith which reconciled God and man, spirit and matter, soul and body, heaven and earth, in the estab- lishment of just relations between man and man, the institution of a simply human state of society. 11 Charles Elwood, or The Infidel Converted," was published in 1840. Two or three passages from this theological discussion, thinly masked in the guise of a novel, will suffice to class the author with Transcenden- talists of the advanced school. NEW ENGLAND. 131 "They who deny to man all inherent capacity to know God, all immediate perception of spiritual truth, place man out of the condition of ever knowing any- thing of God." . ... " There must be a God within to recognize and vouch for the God who speaks to us from without." . . . . "I hold that the ideas or con- ceptions which man attempts to embody or realize in his forms of religious faith and worship, are intuitions of reason." " I understand by inspiration the spontaneous revelations of the reason ; and I call these revelations divine, because I hold the reason to be divine. Its voice is the voice of God, and what it reveals without any aid from human agency, is really and truly a divine revelation." .... " This reason is in all men. Hence the universal beliefs of mankind, the univers- ality of the belief in God and religion. Hence, too, the power of all men to judge of supernatural revelations." . . . " All are able to detect the supernatural, because all have the supernatural in themselves." The " Boston Quarterly," was maintained five years, — from 1838 to 1842 inclusive, — and consequently covered this period. It would therefore be safe to assume, what the volumes themselves attest, that whatever subject was dealt with, — and all conceivable subjects were dealt with, — were handled by the transcendental method. In the " Christian World," a short-lived weekly, published by a brother of Dr. W. E. Channing, Mr. Brownson began the publication of a series of articles on the " Mission of Jesus." Seven were admitted ; the eighth was declined as being "Romanist" in its outlook. In 1844, the writer avowed himself a Roman Catholic, and was confirmed in Boston, October 20th. The " Convert," which contains the spiritual biography of this extraor- 1 3 2 TRANSCENDENTALISM. dinary man, and from which the above facts in his mental history are partly taken, was published in 1857. The Romanist was at that time essentially a Transcendental- ism " Truth," he writes, "is the mind's object, and it seeks and accepts it intuitively, as the new-born child seeks the mother's breast from which it draws its nourishment. The office of proof or even demon- stration is negative rather than affirmative." Mr. Brownson was the most eminent convert to Romanism of this period, when conversions were frequent in Boston ; and his influence was considerable in turning uneasy minds to the old faith. He was a powerful writer and lecturer, an occasional visitor at Brook Farm, but his mental baselessness perhaps repelled nearly as many as his ingenuity beguiled. The literary achievements of Transcendentalism are best exhibited in the "Dial," a quarterly "Magazine for Literature, Philosophy and Religion," begun July, 1840, and ending April, 1844. The editors were Mar- garet Fuller and R. W. Emerson ; the contributors were the bright men and women who gave voice in literary form to the various utterances of the transcendental genius. Mr. Emerson's bravest lectures and noblest poems were first printed there. Margaret Fuller, besides numerous pieces of miscellaneous criticism, contributed the article on Goethe, alone enough to establish her fame as a discerner of spirits, and the paper on "The Great Lawsuit; Man versus Men — Woman versus Women," which was afterwards expanded into the book "Woman in the XlXth century." Bronson NEW ENGLAND. 133 Alcott sent in chapters the " Orphic Sayings," which were an amazement to the uninitiated and an amusement to the profane. Charles Emerson, younger brother of the essayist, whose premature death was bewailed by the admirers of intellect and the lovers of pure charac- ter, proved by his " Notes from the Journal of a Scholar," that genius was not confined to a single member of his family. George Ripley, James Freeman Clarke, Theodore Parker, Wm. H. Channing, Henry Thoreau, Eliot Cabot, John S. Dwight the musical critic, C. P. Cranch the artist-poet, Wm. E. Channing, were liberal of contributions, all in characteristic ways ; and unnamed men and women did their part to fill the numbers of this most remarkable magazine. The freshest thoughts on all subjects were brought to the editors' table ; social tendencies were noticed ; books were received ; the newest picture, the last concert, was passed upon ; judicious estimates were made of reforms and reformers abroad as well as at home ; the philosophical discussions were able and discriminating ; the theological papers were learned, broad and fresh. The four volumes are exceedingly rich in poetry, and poetry such as seldom finds a place in popular magazines. The first year's issue contained sixty-six pieces ; the second, thirty-five; the third, fifty; the fourth, thirty-three; among these were Emerson's earliest inspirations. The " Problem," ''Wood-notes," "The Sphinx," " Saadi," "Ode to Beauty," "To Rhea," first appeared in the "Dial." Harps that had long been silent, unable to make them- selves heard amid the din of the later generation, made 134 TRANSCENDENTALISM. their music here. For Transcendentalism was essentially poetical and put its thoughts naturally into song. The poems in the " Dial," even leaving out the famous ones that have been printed since with their authors' names, would make an interesting and attractive volume. How surprised would some of those writers be if they should now in their prosaic days read what then they wrote under* the spell of that fine frenzy ! • The following mystic poem, which might have come from an ancient Egyptian, dropped from one who has since become distinguished for something very different from mysticism. Has he seen it these many years ? Can he believe that he was ever in the mood to write it? It is called VIA SACRA. Slowly along the crowded street I go, Marking with reverent look each passer's face, Seeking and not in vain, in each to trace That primal soul whereof he is the show. For here still move, by many eyes unseen, The blessed gods that erst Olympus kept. Through every guise these lofty forms serene Declare the all-holding life hath never slept, But known each thrill that in man's heart hath been, And every tear that his sad eyes have wept. Alas for us ! the heavenly visitants, — We greet them still as most unwelcome guests Answering their smile with hateful looks askance, Their sacred speech with foolish, bitter jests ; But oh ! what is it to imperial Jove That this poor world refuses all his love ? NEW ENGLAND. 135 A remarkable feature of the " Dial" were the chapters of " Ethnical Scriptures," seven in all, containing texts from the Veeshnu Sarma, the laws of Menu, Confucius, the Desatir, the Chinese "Four Books," Hermes Tris- megistus, the Chaldaean Oracles. Thirty-five years ago, these Scriptures, now so accessible, and in portions so familiar, were known to the few, and were esteemed by none but scholars, whose enthusiasm for ancient literature got the better of their religious faith. To read such things then, showed an enlightened and courageous mind ; to print them in a magazine under the sacred title of lt Scriptures " argued a most extra- ordinary breadth of view. In offering these chapters to its readers, without apology and on their intrinsic merits, Transcendentalism exhibited its power to overpass the limits of all special religions, and do perfect justice to all expressions of the religious sentiment. The creed of Transcendentalism has been sufficiently indicated. It had a creed, and a definite one. In his lecture on "The Transcendentalist," read in 1841, Mr. Emerson seems disposed to consider Transcendentalism merely as a phase of idealism. "Shall we say then that Transcendentalism is the Saturnalia or excess of Faith ; the presentment of a faith proper to man in his integrity, excessive only when his imperfect obedience hinders the satisfaction of his wit. Nature is Transcendental, exists primarily, neces- sarily, ever works and advances; yet takes no thought for the morrow. Man owns the dignity of the life which throbs around him in chemistry, and tree, and animal, and in the involuntary functions of his own body ; yet 1 3 6 TRANSCENDENTALISM. he is balked when he tries to fling himself into this enchanted circle, where all is done without degradation. Yet genius and virtue predict in man the same absence of private ends, and of condescension to circumstances, united with every trait and talent of beauty and power." * * _* "This way of thinking, falling on Roman times, made stoic philosophers ; falling on des- potic times made patriot Catos and Brutuses ; failing on superstitious times, made prophets and apostles ; on popish times, made protestants and ascetic monks ; preachers of Faith against preachers of Works ; on prelatical times, made Puritans and Quakers ; and falling on Unitarian and commercial times, makes the peculiar shades of Idealism which we know." It is audacious to criticize Mr. Emerson on a point like this ; but candor compels the remark that the above description does less than justice to the definiteness of the transcendental movement. It was something more than a reaction against formalism and tradition, though it took that form. It was more than a reaction against Puritan Orthodoxy, though in part it was that. It was in a very small degree due to study of the ancient pantheists, of Plato and the Alexandrians, of Plutarch, Seneca and Epictetus, though one or two of the leaders had drunk deeply from these sources. Transcendentalism was a distinct philosophical system. Practically it was an assertion of the inalienable worth of man; theoreti- cally it was an assertion of the immanence of divinity in instinct, the transference of supernatural attributes to the natural constitution of mankind. Such a faith would necessarily be protean in its aspects. Philosopher, Critic, Moralist, Poet, would give it voice NEW ENGLAND. 137 according to cast of genius. It would present in turn all the phases of idealism, and to the outside spectator seem a mass of wild opinions ; but running through all was the belief in the Living God in the Soul, faith in immediate inspiration, in boundless possibility, and in unimaginable good. The editors and reviewers of its day could make nothing of it. The most entertaining part of the present writer's task has been the reading of articles on Transcendentalism in the contemporaneous magazines. The reviewers were unable to resist the temptation to make themselves ridiculous. The quarterlies and monthlies are before me, looking as if they resented the exposure of their dusty and musty condition, and would conceal if they could the baldness of their wit. It would be cruel to exhume those antique judgments, so honest, yet so imbecile and so mistaken. The doubts and misgivings, the bitternesses and the horrors, the sinkings of heart and the revolvings of soul may be estimated by any who will consult the numbers of the Christian Examiner, the Biblical Repository, the Princeton Review, the New Englander, the Whig Review, Knickerbocker, (Knickerbocker is especially facetious), but we advise none to do it who would retain their respect fon.honor- able names. The writers, let us hope, did the best they knew, and it would be unkind to expose the theologi- cal prejudice, the polemical acrimony, the narrowness and flippancy they would have been ashamed of had they been aware of it. A good example of the courteous kind of injustice 13% TRANSCENDENTALISM. may be found in the Christian Examiner for January, 1837, in a review of "Nature" from the pen of a Cambridge Professor, who writes in a kindly spirit and with an honest intention to be fair to a movement with which he had no intellectual sympathy : " The aim of the Transcendentalists is high. They profess to look not only beyond facts, but, without the aid of facts, to principles. What is this but Plato's doctrine of innate, eternal and immutable ideas on the consideration of which all science is founded ? Truly, the human mind advances but too often in a circle. The New School has abandoned Bacon, only to go back and wander in the groves of the Academy, and to bewilder themselves with the dreams which first arose in the fervid imagination of the Greeks. Without questioning the desirableness of this end, of considering general truths without any previous examination of particulars, we may well doubt the power of modern philosophers to attain it. Again, they are busy in the enquiry (to adopt their own phraseology) after the Real and Abso- lute, as distinguished from the Apparent. Not to repeat the same doubt as to their success, we may at least request them to beware lest they strip the truth of it? relation to Humanity, and thus deprive it of its usefulness." We quote this passage not merely to show how inevita- bly the best intentioned critics of Transcendentalism fell into sarcasm, nor to illustrate the species of error into which the " Sensational " philosophy betrayed even can- did minds ; but to call attention to another point, namely, the general misconception of the practical aims and purposes of the new school. It was a common preju- NEW ENGLAND. 139 dice that Transcendentalists were visionaries and enthu- siasts, who in pursuit of principles neglected duties, and while seeking for The Real and The Absolute forgot the actual and the relative. Macaulay puts the .case strongly in his article on Lord Bacon : " To sum up the whole ; we should say that the aim of the Platonic philosophy was to exalt man into a God. The aim of the Baconian philosophy was to provide man with what he requires while he continues to be man. The aim of the Platonic philosophy was to raise us far above vulgar wants! The aim of the Baconian philosophy was to supply our wants. The former aim was noble ; but the latter was attainable. Plato drew a good bow ; but, like Acestes in Virgil, he aimed at the stars ; and though there was no want of strength and skill, the shot was thrown away. Bacon fixed his eye on a mark which was placed on the earth, and within bow shot, and hit it in the white. The philosophy of Plato began in words and ended in words — noble words indeed ; words such as were to be expected from the finest of human intellects exercising boundless control over the finest of human languages. The philosophy of Bacon began in observations and ended in arts. The smallest actual good is better than the most magnificent promises of impossibilities. The truth is, that in those very matters for the sake of which they neglected all the vulgar interests of mankind, the ancient philosophers did nothing or worse than nothing — they promised what was impract- icable ; they despised what was practicable ; they filled the world with long words and long beards ; and they left it as wicked and as ignorant as they found it." Substitute Idealism for Platonism, and Transcend- entalists for ancient philosophers, and this expresses the judgment of " sensible men" of the last generation, on 140 TRANSCENDENTALISM. Transcendentalism. It was not perceived that the two schools of philosophy aimed at producing the same results, but by different methods ; that the " Sensation- alist" worked up from beneath by material processes, while the "Idealist" worked downward from above by intellectual ones ; that the former tried to push men up by mechanical appliances, and the latter endeavored to draw them up by spiritual attraction ; that while the disciples of Bacon operated on man as if he was a complex animal, a creature of nature and of circum- stances, who was borne along with the material progress of the planet, but had no independent power of flight, the disciples of Kant and Fichte assumed that man was a creative, recreative force, a being who had only to be conscious of the capacities within him to shape circum- stances according to the pattern shown him on the Mount. The charge of shooting at stars is puerile. The only use they would make of stars was to "hitch wagons " to them. The Transcendentalists of New England were the most strenous workers of their day, and at the problems which the day flung down before them. The most strenuous, and the most successful workers too. They achieved more practical benefit for society, in proportion to their numbers and the duration of their existence, than any body of Baconians of whom we ever heard. Men and women are healthier in their bodies, happier in their domestic and social relations, more contented in their estate, more ambitious to enlarge their opportunities, more eager to acquire knowledge, more kind and humane in their sympathies, NEW ENGLAND. 141 more reasonable in their expectations, than they would have been if Margaret Fuller and Ralph Waldo Emerson and Theodore Parker and George Ripley and Bronson Alcott, and the rest of their fellow believers and fellow workers had. not lived. It is the fashion of our gener- ation to hold that progress is, and must of necessity be, exceedingly gradual ; and that no safe advance is ever made except at snail's pace. But ever and anon the mind of man refutes the notion by starting under the influence of a thought, and leaping over long reaches of space at a bound. Transcendentalism gave one of these demonstrations, sufficient to refute the vulgar prejudice. Its brief history may have illustrated the truth' of Wordsworth's lines, " That 'tis a thing impossible to frame Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires ; And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the Soul is competent to gain." The heights were gained nevertheless, and kept long enough for a view of the land of promise ; and ever since, though the ascent is a dim recollection, and the great forms have come to look like images in dreams, and the mighty voices are but ghostly echoes, men and women have been happy in laboring for the heaven their fathers believed they saw. VII. PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. Mr. EMERSON — we find ourselves continually appeal- ing to him as the finest interpreter of the transcendental movement — made a confession which its enemies were quick to seize on and turn to their purpose. " It is a sign of our times, conspicuous to the coarsest observer, that many intelligent and religious persons withdraw themselves from the common labors and com- petitions of the market and the caucus, and betake them- selves to a certain solitary and critical way of living, from which no solid fruit has yet appeared to justify their separation. They hold themselves aloof; they feel the disproportion between themselves and the work offered them, and they prefer to ramble in the country and per- ish of ennui, to the degradation of such charities and such ambitions as the city can propose to them. They are striking work and crying out for somewhat worthy to do. They are lonely ; the spirit of their*%riting and conversation is lonely ; they repel influences ; they shun general society ; they incline to shut themselves in their chamber in the house ; to live in the country rather than in the town ; and to find their tasks and amusements in solitude. They are not good citizens ; not good mem- bers of society ; unwillingly they bear their part of the public and private burdens ; they do not willingly share in the public charities, in the public religious rites, in the enterprises of education, of missions, foreign or domestic, in the abolition of the slave trade, or in the PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 143 temperance society. They do not even like to vote. The philanthropists inquire whether Transcendentalism does not mean sloth ; they had as lief hear that their friend is dead as that he is a Transcendentalist ; for then is he paralyzed, and can do nothing for humanity." This extreme statement must not be taken as eitht * complete or comprehensive. They who read it in the lecture on '* The Transcendentalist " must be careful to notice Mr. Emerson's qualifications, that .' this retire- ment does not proceed from any whim on the part of the separators;" that " this part is chosen both from tern- > perament and from principle ; with some unwillingness ! too, and as a choice of the less of two evils ;" " that they are joyous, susceptible, affectionate ;" that "they wish | a just and even fellowship or none ;" that " what they do is done because they are overpowered by the human- ities that speak on all sides ;" that " what you call your fundamental institutions, your great and holy causes, seem to them great abuses, and, when nearly seen, paltry matters." But even this apology does not quite exonerate his friends. Transcendentalism certainly did produce its share ot idle, dreamy, useless people — as " Sensationalism " pro- duced its share of coarse, greedy, low-lived and bestial ones. But its legitimate fruit was earnestness, aspiration and enthusiastic energy. We must begin with the philosophy of Man. The Transcendentalist claims for all men as a natural endow- ment what "Evangelical" Christianity ascribes to the few as a special gift of the Spirit. This faith comes to 1 44 TAANS CENDEXTALISM. expression continually. The numbers of the "Dial" are alight with it. "Man is a rudiment and embryon of God : Eternity shall develop in him the Divine Image." " The Soul works from centre to periphery, veiling her labors from the ken of the senses." " The sensible world is spirit in magnitude outspread before the senses for their analysis, but whose synthesis is the soul herself, whose prothesis is God." "The time may come, in the endless career of the soul, when the facts of incarnation, birth, death, descent into matter, and ascension from it, shall comprise no part of her history ; when she herself shall survey this human life with emotions akin to those of the naturalist on examining the relics of extinct races of beings." "Of the perception now fast becoming a conscious fact, — that there is one mind, and that also the powers and privileges which lie in any, lie in all ; that I, as a man, may claim and appropriate whatever of true or fair or good or strong has anywhere been exhibited ; that Moses and Confucius, Montaigne and Leibnitz are not so much individuals as they are parts of man and parts of me, and my intelligence proves them my own, — litera- ture is far the best expression." Thus Mr. Alcott and Mr. Emerson. Thomas T. Stone, — a modest, retiring, deep and interior man, a child of the spiritual philosophy, which he faithfully lived in and up to, and preached with singular fulness and richness of power— makes his statement thus, in an article entitled " Man in the Ages," contributed to the third number of the "Dial": " Man is man, despite of all the lies which would con- vince him he is not, despite of all the thoughts which PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 145 would strive to unman him. There is a spirit in man. an inspiration from the Almighty. What is, is. The eter- nal is eternal ; the temporary must pass it by, leaving it to stand evermore. There is now, there has been always, power among men to subdue the ages, to dethrone them, to make them mere outgoings and servitors of man. It is needed only that we assert our prerogative, — that man do with hearty faith affirm : ' I am ; in me being is. Ages, ye come and go ; appear and disappear ; pro- ducts, not life ; vapors from the surface of the soul, not living fountain. Ye are of me, for me, not I of you or for you. Not with you my affinity, but with the Eter- nal. I am ; I live ; spirit I have not ; spirit am I.' " Samuel D. Robbins, another earnest prophet of the spiritual man, utters the creed again in the way peculiar to himself, y^ "There is an infinity in the human soul which few have yet believed, and after which few have aspired. There is a lofty power of moral principle in the depths of our nature which is nearly allied to Omnipotence ; compared with which the whole force of outward nature is more feeble than an infant's grasp. There is a spirit- ual insight to which the pure soul reaches, more clear and prophetic, more wide and vast than all telescopic vision can typify. There is a faith in God, and a clear perception of His will and designs, and providence, and glory, which gives to its possessor a confidence and patience and sweet composure, under every varied and troubling aspect of events, such as no man can realize who has not felt its influences in his own heart. There is a communion with God, in which the soul feels the presence of the unseen One, in the profound depths of its being, with a vivid distinctness and a holy reverence such as no word can describe. There is a state of union with God, I do not say often reached, yet it has been 7 146 TRANSCENDENTALISM. attained in this world, in which all the past and present and future seem reconciled, and eternity is won and enjoyed : and God and man, earth and heaven, with all their mysteries are apprehended in truth as they lie in the mind of the Infinite." The poet chimes in with the prophet. We marked for quotation several passages from the "Dial," but a few detached stanzas must suffice. C. P. Cranch opens his lines to the ocean thus : Tell me, brothers, what are we ? Spirits bathing in the sea of Deity. Half a.ioat, and naif on land, Wishing much to leave the strand, Standing, gazing with devotion, Yet afraid to trust the ocean, Such are we. And thus he closes lines to the Aurora Borealis : But a better type thou art Of the strivings of the heart, Reaching upwards from the earth To the Soul that gave it birth. When the noiseless beck of night Summons out the inner light That hath hid its purer ray Through the lapses of the day, — Then like thee, thou Northern Morn, Instincts which we deemed unborn PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 147 Gushing from their hidden source Mount upon their heavenward course, And the spirit seeks to be Filled with God's eternity. That a philosophy like this will impel to aspiration need not be said; aspiration is the soul of it. The Transcendentalist was constantly on the wing. " On all hands men's existence is converted into a preparation for existence. We do not properly live, in these days ; but everywhere with patent inventions and complex arrangements are getting ready to live. The end is lost in the means, life is smothered in appliances. We cannot get to ourselves, there are so many external comforts to wade through. Consciousness stops half way. Reflection is dissipated in the circumstances of our environment. Goodness is exhausted in aids to goodness, and all the vigor and health of the soul is expended in quack contrivances to build it up." * * * -n What the age requires is not books, but example, high, * heroic example ; not words but deeds ; not societies but men — men who shall have -their root in themselves, and attract and convert the world by the beauty of their fruits. All truth must be living, before it can be ade- quately known or taught. Men are anterior to systems. Great doctrines are not the origin, but the product of great lives. The Cynic practice must precede the Stoic philosophy, and out of Diogenes's tub came forth in the end the wisdom of Epictetus, the eloquence of Seneca, and the piety of Antonine." * * * "The religious man lives for one great object; to perfect himself, to unite himself by purity with God, to fit himself for heaven by cherishing within him a heavenly disposition. He has discovered that he has a soul ; that his soul is himself; that he changes not with the changing things of life, but receives its discipline 148 TRANSCENDENTALISM. from them ; that man does not live by bread alone, but that the most real of all things, inasmuch as they are the most enduring, are the things which are not seen ; that faith and love and virtue are the sources of his life, and that one realises nothing, except he lay fast hold on them. He extracts a moral lesson, a lesson of endur- ance or of perseverance for himself, or a new evidence of God and of his own immortal destiny, from every day's hard task." That last strain came from the man who for many years has been known as the foremost musical critic of New England, if not of America, *John S. Dwight. Another writes : "The soul lies buried in a ruined city, struggling to be free and calling for aid. The worldly trafficker in life's caravan hears its cries, and says, it is a prisoned maniac. But one true man stops and with painful toil lifts aside the crumbling fragments ; till at last he finds beneath the choking mass a mangled form of exceeding beauty. Dazzling is the light to eyes long blind ; weak are the limbs long prisoned ; faint is the breath long pent. But oh! that mantling flush, that liquid eye, that elastic spring of renovated strength. The deliverer is folded to the breast of an angel." The duty of self-culture is made primary and is eloquently preached. The piece from which this extract is taken, entitled " The Art of Life " is anonymous, but supposed to be from Emerson's pen : "The work of life, so far as the individual is concerned, and that to which the scholar is particularly called, is * PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 149 Self -Culture, the perfect unfolding of our individual nature. To this end above all others, the art of which I speak directs our attention and points our endeavor. There is no man, it is presumed, to whom this object is wholly indifferent, who would not willingly possess this too, along with other prizes, provided the attain- ment of it were compatible with personal ease and worldly good. But the business of self-culture admits of no compromise. Either it must be made a distinct aim or wholly abandoned." But it is time wasted to speak on this point. It has been objected to Transcendentalism that it made self- culture too important, carrying it to the point of selfish- ness, sacrificing in its behalf, sympathy, brotherly love, sentiments of patriotism, personal fidelity and honor, and rejoicing in the production of a " mountainous Me " fed at the expense of life's sweetest humanities ; and Goethe is straightway cited as the Transcendental apostle of the gospel of heartless indifference. But allowing the charge against Goethe to rest unrefuted, it must be made against him as a man, not as a Tran- scendentalist ; and even were it true of him as a Tran- scendentalism it was not true of Kant or Fichte, of Schleiermacher or Herder ; of Jean Paul or Novalis ; of Coleridge, Carlyle or Wordsworth ; and who ever intimated that it was true of Emerson, who has been one of the most industrious teachers of his generation, and one of the most earnest worshippers of the genius of his native land ; — of Margaret Fuller, whose life was a quickening flood of intellectual influence ; — of Bronson Alcott, who, every winter for years, has carried his 15° TRANSCENDENTALISM. seed corn to the far West, seeking only a receptive furrow for his treasured being ; — of Theodore Parker, who sacrificed precious days of study, his soul's passion for knowledge, his honorable ambition to achieve a scholar's fame, in order that his country, in her time of trial, might not want what he was able to give ; — of Wm. Henry Channing, to whom the thought of human- ity is an inspiration, and "sacrifice an all sufficing joy ; " — of George Ripley, who offered himself, all that he had and was, that the experiment of an honest friendly society might be fairly tried ? By " self-culture " these and the. rest of their brotherhood meant the culture of that nobler self which includes heart, and conscience, sym- pathy and spirituality, not as incidental ingredients, but as essential qualities. Self-hood they never identified with selfishness ; nor did they ever confound or associ- ate its attainment with the acquisition of place, power, wealth, or eminent repute; the person was more to them than the individual ; they sought no reward except for service ; and the consciousness of serving faithfully was their best reward. To Transcendentalism belongs the credit of inaugur- ating the theory and practice of dietetics which is preached so assiduously now by enlightened physiol- ogists. The people who regarded man as a soul, first taught the wisdom that is now inculcated by people who regard man as a body. The doctrine that human beings live on air and light ; that food should be simple and nutritious ; that coarse meats should be discarded and fiery liquors abolished ; that wines should be substituted PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 151 for "spirits," light wines for heavy, and pure water for wines ; — has in all ages been taught by mystics and idealists. The ancient master of it was Pythagoras. Their idea was, that as the body was, for the time being, the dwelling-place of the soul, its lodging and home, its prison or its palace, its organ, its instrument, its box of tools, the medium of its activity, it must be kept in perfect condition for these high offices. They honored the flesh in the nobility of their care of it. No sour ascetics they, but generous feeders on essences and elixirs ; no mortifiers of matter, but purifiers and refiners of it ; regarding it as too exquisitely mingled and tempered a substance to be tortured and imbruted. The materialist prescribes temperance, continence, so- briety, in order that life may be long, and comfortable, and free from disease. The idealist prescribes them, in order that life may be intellectual, serene, pacific, beneficent. The chief mystic of the transcendental band has been the chief prophet of this innocent word. " The New Ideas," wrote Mr. Alcott, " bear direct on all the economies of life. They will revise old methods, and institute new cultures. I look with special hope to their effect on the regimen of the land. Our present modes of agriculture exhaust the soil, and must, while life is made thus sensual and secular; the narrow covetousness which prevails in trade, in labor, in exchanges, ends in depraving the land ; it breeds disease, decline, in the flesh, — debauches and consumes the heart." "The , Soul's Banquet is an art divine. To mould this statue 152 TRANSCENDENTALISM. of flesh from chaste materials, kneading it into comeliness and strength, this is Promethean ; and this we practise, well or ill, in all our thoughts, acts, desires. I would abstain from the fruits of oppression and blood, and am seeking means of entire independence. This, were I not holden by penury unjustly, would be possible. One miracle we have wrought nevertheless, and shall soon work all of them ; — our wine is water, — flesh, bread ; — drugs, fruits ; — and we defy, meekly, the satyrs all, and Esculapius." " It was the doctrine of the Samian Sage, that what- soever food obstructs divination, is prejudicial to purity and chastity of mind and body, to temperance, health, sweetness of disposition, suavity of manners, grace of form and dignity of carriage, should be shunned. Especially should those who would apprehend the deepest wisdom, and preserve through life the relish for elegant studies and pursuits, abstain from flesh, cherish- ing the justice which animals claim at men's hands, nor slaughtering them for food or profit." " A purer civil- ization than ours can yet claim to be, is to inspire the genius of mankind with the skill to deal dutifully with soils and souls, exalt agriculture and manculture into a religion of art ; the freer interchange of commodities which the current world-wide intercourse promotes, spreads a more various, wholesome, classic table, whereby the race shall be refined of traits reminding too plainly of barbarism and the beast." Said Timotheus of Plato, "they who dine with the philosopher have nothing to complain of the next morning." That the doctrine has PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 153 its warm, glowing side, appears in a characteristic poem in the little volume called " Tablets." The anchorite's plea was not always as good as his practice. Arguing the point once with a sagacious man of the world, he urged as a reason for abstinence from animal food that one thereby distanced the animal. For the eating of beef encouraged the bovine quality, and the pork diet repeats the trick of Circe, and changes men into swine. But, rejoined the friend, if j abstinence from animal food leaves the animal out, does not partaking of vegetable food put the vegetable in ? I presume the potato diet will change man into a I potato. And what if the potatoes be small ! The philos-^-^ opher's reply is not recorded. But in his case the beast did disappear, and the leek has never become prominent. In his case health, strength, agility, sprightliness, cheer- fulness, have been wholly compatible with disuse of animal food. Few men have preserved the best uses of body and mind so long unimpaired. Few have lost so few days ; have misused so few ; are able to give a good account of so many. The vegetarian of seventy- six shames many a cannibal of forty. The Transcendentalist was by nature a reformer. He could not be satisfied with men as they were. His doc- trine of the capacities of men, even in its most moderate statement, kindled to enthusiasm his hope of change. However his disgust may have kept him aloof for a time, his sympathy soon brought him back, and his faith sent him to the front of the battle. In beginning his lecture on " Man The Reformer," Mr. Emerson does 5* 154 TRANSCENDENTALISM. not dissemble his hope that each person whom he addresses has " felt his own call to cast aside all evil customs, timidities and limitations, and to be in his place a free and helpful man, a reformer, a benefactor, not content to slip through the world like a footman or a spy, escaping by his nimbleness and apologies as many knocks as he can, but a brave and upright man, who must find or cut a straight path to everything excellent in the earth, and not only go honorably himself, but make it easier for all who follow him, to go in honor and with benefit." " The power, " he declares," which is at once spring and regulator in all efforts of reform, is the conviction that there is an infinite worthiness in man, which will appear at the call of worth, and that all par- ticular reforms are the removing of some impediment. Is it not the highest duty that man should be honored in us ? "In the history of the world " the same great teacher remarks, " the doctrine of Reform had never such scope as at the present hour. Lutherans, Herrn- hiitters, Jesuits, Monks, Quakers, Knox, Wesley, Swedenborg, Bentham, in their accusations of society, all respected something, — church or state, literature or history, domestic usages, the market town, the dinner table, coined money. But now all these and all things else hear the the trumpet and must rush to judgment,— Christianity, the laws, commerce, schools, the farm, the laboratory: and not a kingdom, town, statute, rite, calling, man, or woman but is threatened by the new spirit." " Let me feel that I am to be a lover. I am to see to it that the world is the better for me, and to find PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 155 my reward in the act. Love would put a new face on this weary old world in which we dwell as pagans and enemies too long, and it would warm the heart to see how fast the vain diplomacy of statesmen, the impotence of armies, and navies, and lines of defence, would be superseded by this unarmed child." The method of reform followed from the principle. It was the method of individual awakening and regenera- tion, and was to be conducted " through the simplest ministries of family, neighborhood, fraternity, quite wide of associations and institutions." The true reformer," it was proclaimed, " initiates his labor in the precincts of private life, and makes it, not a set of measures, not an utterance, not a pledge merely, but a life ; and not an im- pulse of a day, but commensurate with human existence : a tendency towards perfection of being. " The Transcen- dentalist might easily become an enthusiast from excess of faith ; but a fanatic, with a tinge of melancholy in his disposition, a drop of malignity in his blood, he could not be. He was less a reformer of human circumstance than a regenerator of the human spirit, and he was never a destroyer except as destruction accompanied the pro- cess of regeneration. This fine positive purpose appeared in all he under- took. With movements that did not start from this prim- ary assumption of individual dignity, and come back to that as their goal, he had nothing to do. Was he an anti-slavery man— and he was certain to be one at heart — the Transcendentalists were glowing friends of that reform, — he was so because his philosophy compelled him to see 1 5 6 TRANSCENDENTALISM. in the slave the same humanity that appeared in the master ; in the African the same possibilities that were confessed in the Frank, the Anglo-Saxon, and the Celt. Did he take up the cause of education, it was as a believ- er in the latent capacity of every child, boy or girl ; as an earnest wisher that such capacity might be stimulated by the best methods, and directed to the best ends. What he effected, or tried to effect in this way will be understood by the reader of the record of Mr. Alcott's school ; that bold and original attempt at educating, leading or drawing out young minds, which showed such remarkable promise, and would have achieved such remarkable results had more faithful trial of its method been possible. Was he a reformer of society, it was as a vitalizer, not as a machinist. In no respect does the Transcendentalisms idea of social reform stand out more conspicuously than in this. With an incessant and passionate aspiration after a pure social state, — deeply convinced of the mistakes, profoundly sensible of the miseries of the actual condition, he would not be committed to experiments that did not assume his first principle— the supreme dignity of the individual man. The systems of French socialism he distrusted from the first ; for they proceeded on the ground that man is not a self determined being, but a creature of circum- stance. Mr. Albert Brisbane's attempt to domesticate Fourierism among us was cordially considered, but not cordially welcomed. He seemed to have no spiritual depth of foundation ; his proposition to imprison man in a Phalanx, was rejected ; his omission of moral freedom PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 1 57 in the scheme was resented; no sincerity, no keenness of criticism, no exposure of existing evils or indignation of protest against then, disarmed the jealousy of endeavors to reconstruct society, as if human beings were piles of brick or lumps of mortar. In 1 841 a community was planned in Massachusetts, by Liberal Christians of the Universalist sect. Though never put in operation it did not escape the criticism of the " Dial." The good points were recognized and com- mended ; the moral features were praised as showing a deep insight into the Christian idea, and the articles of confederation were pronounced admirable in judgment and form, with a single exception, which however was fatal. Admittance of members was conditioned on pledges of non-resistance, abolition, temperance, abstinence from voting, and such like. Though these conditions were easy enough in themselves, and were expressed in the most con- ciliatory spirit, they were justly regarded as giving to the community the character of a church or party, much less than world embracing. "A true community, " it was de- clared, " can be founded on nothing short of faith in the universal man, as he comes out of the hands of the Creator, with no law over his liberty but the eternal ideas that lie at the foundation of his being." " The final cause of human society is the unfolding of the individual man, into every form of perfection, without let or hindrance, according to the inward nature of each." When the Brook Farm experiment was under way at West Roxbury, its initiators were warned against three dangers : the first, Organization, which begins by being 1 5 8 TRANSCENDENTALISM. an instrument and ends by being a master ; the second, Endowment : , which promises to be a swift helper, and is, ere long, a stifling encumbrance; the third, the spirit of Coterie, which would in no long time, shrink their rock of ages to a platform, diminish their brotherhood to a clique, and reduce their aims to experiences. Brook Farm, whereof it is not probable that a history- will ever be written, for the reason that there were in it slender materials for history, — though there were abundant materials for thought, — was projected on the purest transcendental basis. It was neither European nor English, neither French nor German in its origin. No doubt, among the supporters and friends of it were some who had made themselves acquainted with the writings of St. Simon and Chevalier, ot Froudhon and Fourier; but it does not appear that any of these authors shaped or prescribed the plan, or influenced the spirit of the enterprise. The Constitution which is printed herewith explains sufficiently the project, and expresses the spirit in which it was undertaken. The jealous regard for the rights of the individual is not the least characteristic feature of this remarkable document. The By-Laws, which want of space excludes from these pages, simply confirm the provisions that were made to guard the person against unnecessary infringement of independ- ence. PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 159 CONSTITUTION. In order more effectually to promote the great pur- poses of human culture ; to establish the external relations \ of life on a basis of wisdom and purity; to apply the,/ principles of justice and love to our social orgnization in- accordance with the laws of Divine Providence ; to sub- stitute a system of brotherly cooperation for one of selfish ^ competition ; to secure to our children and those who may be entrusted to our care, the benefits of the highest phys- ical, intellectual and moral education, which in the pro- gress of knowledge the resources at our command will permit; to institute an attractive, efficient, and productive v system of industry ; to prevent the exercise of worldly anxiety, by the competent supply of our necessary wants ; tL drnin'sh the derire ofexcepsive accumulation, by making the acquisition of individual property subservient to upright and disinterested uses ; to guarantee to each other forever the means of physical support, and of spiri- tual progress ; and thus to impart a greater freedom, simplicity, truthfulness, refinement, and moral dignity, to our mode of life; — we the undersigned do unite in a voluntary Association, and adopt and ordain the fol- lowing articles of agreement, to wit : ARTICLE I. NAME AND MEMBERSHIP. Sec. I. The name of this Association shall be " THE Brook-Farm Association for Industry and Edu- cation. " All persons who shall hold one or more shares in its stock, or whose labor and skill shall be con- sidered an equivalent for capital, may be admitted by the vote of two-thirds of the Association, as members thereof. 160 TRANSCENDENTALISM. SEC. 2. No member of the Association shall ever be subjected to any religious test ; nor shall any authority be assumed over individual freedom of opinion by the As- sociation, nor by one member over another ; nor shall any one be held accountable to the Association, except for such overt acts, or omissions of duty, as violate the principles of justice, purity, and love, on which it is found- ed ; and in such cases the relation of any member may be suspended or discontinued, at the pleasure of the Asso- ciation. ARTICLE II. CAPITAL STOCK. Sec. I. The members of this Association shall own and manage such real and personal estate in joint stock proprietorship, divided into shares of one hundred dol- lars each, as may from time to time be agreed on. SEC. 2. No shareholder shall be liable to any assess- ment whatever on the shares held by him ; nor shall he be held responsible individually in his private property on account of the Association ; nor shall the Trustees, or any officer or agent of the Association, have any authori- ty to do any thing which shall impose personal responsi- bility on any shareholder, by making any contracts or incurring any debts for which the shareholders shall be individually or personally responsible. SEC. 3. The Association guarantees to each share- holder the interest of five per cent, annually on the amount of stock held by him in the Association, and this interest may be paid in certificates of stock and credited on the books of the Association ; provided that each shareholder may draw on the funds of the Association for the amount of interest due at the third annual settle- ment from the time of investment. SEC. 4. The shareholders on their part, for them- selves, their heirs and assigns, do renounce all claim on any profits accruing to the Association for the use of PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 161 their capital invested in the stock of the Association, except five per cent, interest on the amount of stock held by them, payable in the manner described in the preceding section. ARTICLE III. GUARANTIES. Sec. I. The Association shall provide such employ- ment for all its members as shall be adapted to their capacities, habits, and tastes ; and each member shall select and perform such operations of labor, whether corporal or mental, as shall be deemed best suited to his own endowments and the benefit of the Association. SEC. 2. The Association guarantees to all its mem- bers, their children and family dependents, house-rent, fuel, food, and clothing, and the other necessaries of life, without charge, not exceeding a certain fixed amount to be decided annually by the Association ; no charge shall ever be made for support during inability to labor from sickness or old age, or for medical or nursing attendance, except in case of shareholders, who shall be charged therefor, and also for the food and clothing of children, to an amount not exceeding the interest due to them on settlement ; but no charge shall be made to any members for education or the use of library and public rooms. Sec. 3. Members may withdraw from labor, under the direction of the Association, and in that case, they shall not be entitled to the benefit of the above guaranties. Sec. 4. Children over ten years of age shall be pro- vided with employment in suitable branches of industry ; they shall be credited for such portions of each annual dividend, as shall be decided by the Association, and on the completion of their education in the Association at the age of twenty, shall be entitled to a certificate of stock to the amount of credits in their favor, and may be admitted as members of the Association. 1 62 TRANSCENDENTALISM. ARTICLE IV. DISTRIBUTION OF PROFITS. Sec. i The net profits of the Association, after the payment of all expenses, shall be divided into a number of shares corresponding to the number of days' labor ; and every member shall be entitled to one share of every day's labor performed by him. SEC. 2. A full settlement shall be made with every member once a year, and certificates of stock given for all balances due ; but in case of need, to be decided by himself, every member may be permitted to draw on the funds in the Treasury to an amount not exceeding the credits in his favor for labor performed. ARTICLE V. GOVERNMENT. Sec. I. The government of the Association shall be vested in a board of Directors, divided into four depart- ments, as follows ; 1st, General Direction ; 2d, Direction of Education ; 3d, Direction of Industry ; 4th, Direc- tion of Finance; consisting of three persons each, provided that the same person may be elected member of each Direction. Sec. 2. The General Direction and Direction of Education shall be chosen annually, by the vote of a majority of the members of the Association. The Direction of Finance shall be chosen annually, by the vote of a majority of the share-holders and members of the Association. The direction of Industry shall consist of the chiefs of the three primary series. Sec. 3. The chairman of the General Direction shall be the President of the Association, and together with PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 163 the Direction of Finance, shall constitute a board of Trustees, by whom the property of the Association shall be held and managed. Sec. 4 The General Direction shall oversee and man- age the affairs of the Association, so that every depart- ment shall be carried on in an orderly and efficient manner. SEC. 5. The departments of Education and Finance shall be Under the control each of its own Direction, which shall select, and in concurrence with the General Direction, shall appoint such teachers, officers, and agents, as shall be necessary to the complete and systematic or- ganization of the department. No Directors or other of- ficers shall be deemed to possess any rank superior to the other members of the Association, nor shall they re- ceive any extra remuneration for their official services. Sec. 6. The department of industry shall be arranged in groups and series, as far as practicable, and shall con- sist of three primary series ; to wit, Agricultural, Me- chanical, and Domestic Industry. The chief of each series shall be elected every two months by the members thereof, subject to the approval of the general Direction. The chief of each group shall be chosen weekly by its members. ARTICLE VI. MISCELLANEOUS. SEC. 1. The Association may from time to time adopt such by-laws, not inconsistent with the spirit and purpose of these articles, as shall be found expedient or necessary. Sec. 2. In order to secure to the Association the benefits of the highest discoveries in social science, and to preserve its fidelity to the principles of progress and reform, on which it is founded, any amendment may be proposed to this Constitution at a meeting called for 1 64 TRANS CENDENTALISM. the purpose ; and if approved by two-thirds of the mem- bers at a subsequent meeting, at least one month after the date of the first, shall be adopted. From this it appears that the association was simply an attempt to return to first principles, to plant the seeds of a new social order, founded on respect for the dignity, and sympathy with the aspirations of man. It was open to all sects; it admitted, welcomed, nay, demanded all kinds and degrees of intellectual culture. The most profound regard for individual opinion, feeling and inclination, was professed and exhibited. Confidence that surrender to the spontaneous principle, with no more restriction than might be necessary to secure its development, was wisest, lay at the bottom of the scheme. It was felt at this time, 1842, that, in order to live a religious and moral life in sincerity, it was necessary to leave the world of institutions, and to reconstruct the social order from new beginnings. A farm was bought in close vicinity to Boston ; agriculture was made the basis of the life, as bringing man into direct and simple relations with nature, and restoring labor to honest conditions. To a certain extent, it will be seen, the principle of community in property was recognized, community of interest and cooperation requiring it ; but to satisfy the claims and insure the rights of the individual, members were not required to impoverish themselves, or to resign the fruit of their earnings. Provisions were either raised on the farm or purchased PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 165 was the rule that all should labor — choosing their occu- pations, and the number of hours, and receiving wages according to the hours. No labor was hired that could be supplied within the community ; and all labor was rewarded alike, on the principle that physical labor is more irksome than mental, more absorbing and exacting, less improving and delightful. Moreover, to recognize practically the nobility of labor in and of itself, none were appointed to special kinds of work. All took their turn at the several branches of employment. None were drudges or menials. The intellectual gave a portion of their time to tasks such as servants and handmaidens usually discharge. The unintellectual were allowed a portion of their time for mental cultivation. The benefits of social intercourse were thrown open to all. The aim was to secure as many hours as practicable from the necessary toil of providing for the wants of the body, that there might be more leisure to provide for the deeper wants of the soul. The acquisition of wealth was no object. No more thought was given to this than the exigencies of existence demanded. To live, expand, enjoy as rational beings, was the never-forgotten aim. The community trafficked by way of exchange and barter with the outside world ; sold its surplus produce ; sold its culture to as many as came or sent children to be taught. It was hoped that from the accumulated results of all this labor, the appliances for intellectual and spiritual health might be obtained ; that books might be bought, works of art, scientific collections and apparatus, means of decoration and refinement, all of which should 1 6 6 TRANSCENDENTALISM. be open on the same terms to every member of the asso- ciation. The principle of cooperation was substituted for the principle of competition ; self development for selfishness. The faith was avowed in every arrangement that the soul of humanity was in each man and woman. The reputation for genius, accomplishment and wit, which the founders of the Brook Farm enterprise enjoyed in society, attracted towards it the attention of the public, and awakened expectation of something much more than ordinary in the way of literary advantages. The settle- ment became a resort for cultivated men and women who had experience as teachers and wished to employ their talent to the best effect ; and for others who were tired of the conventionalities, and sighed for honest relations with their fellow-beings. Some took advantage of the easy hospitality of the association, and came there to live mainly at its expense — their unskilled and incidental labor being no compensation for their entertainment. The most successful department was the school. Pupils came thither in considerable numbers and from consider- able distances. Distinguished visitors gave charm and reputation to the place. The members were never numerous ; the number varied considerably from year to year. Seventy was a fair average ; of these, fewer than half were young persons sent thither to be educated. Several adults came for intellectual assistance. Of married people there were, in 1844, but four pairs. A great deal was taught and learned at Brook Farm. Classics, mathematics, general literature, aesthetics, occupied the busy hours. The most PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 167 productive work was done in these ideal fields, and the best result of it was a harvest in the ideal world, a new sense of life's elasticity and joy, the delight of freedom/ the innocent satisfaction of spontaneous relations. The details above given convey no adequate idea* of the Brook Farm fraternity. In one sense it was much less than they imply ; in another sense it was much more. It was less, because its plan was not materially successful ; the intention was defeated by circumstances ; the hope turned out to be a dream. Yet, from another aspect, the experiment fully justified itself. Its moral tone was high; its moral influence sweet and sunny. Had Brook Farm been a community in the accepted sense, had it insisted on absolute community of goods, the resignation of opinions, of personal aims interests or sympathies; had the principle of renunciation, sacrifice of the individual to the common weal, been accepted and maintained, its existence might have been continued and its pecuniary basis made sure. But asceticism was no feature of the original scheme. On the contrary, the projectors of it were believers in the capacities of the soul, in the safety, wisdom and imperative necessity of developing those capacities, and in the benign effect of liberty. Had the spirit of rivalry and antagonism been called in, the sectarian or party spirit, however generously interpreted, the result would probably have been differ- ent. But the law of sympathy being accepted as the law of life, exclusion was out of the question ; inquisition into beliefs was inadmissible ; motives even could not be closely scanned; so while some were enthusiastic friends 1 68 TRANSCENDENTALISM. of the principle of association, and some were ardent devotees to liberty, others thought chiefly of their private education and development ; and others still were attracted by a desire of improving their social con- dition, or attaining comfort on easy terms. The idea, however noble, true, and lovely, was unable to grapple with elements so discordant. Yet the fact that these discordant elements did not, even in the brief period of the fraternity's existence, utterly rend and abolish the idea; that to the last, no principle was compromised, no rule broken, no aspiration bedraggled, is a confession of the purity and vitality of the creative thought. That a mere aggregation of persons, without written compact, formal understanding, or unity of purpose, men, women and children, should have lived together, four or five years, without scandal or reproach from dissension or evil whisper, should have separated without rancor or bitterness, and should have left none but the pleasantest savor behind them — is a tribute to the Transcendental Faith. In 1844, the Directors of the Association, George Rip- ley, Minot Pratt, and Charles Anderson Dana, publish- ed a statement, declaring: that every step had strength- ened the faith with which they set out ; that their belief in a divine order of human society had in their minds become an absolute certainty ; that, in their judg- ment, considering the state of humanity and of social science, the world was much nearer the attainment of such a condition than was generally supposed. They here said emphatically that Fourier's doctrine of universal PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 169 unity commanded their unqualified assent, and that their whole observation had satisfied them of the practical ar- rangements which he deduced therefrom, of the corres- pondence of the law of groups and series with the law of human nature. At this time the farm contained two hun- dred and eight acres, and could be enlarged to any extent necessary. The Association held property worth nearly or quite thirty thousand dollars, of which about twenty- two thousand was invested, either in the stock of the company or in permanent loans to it at six per cent, which could remain as long as the Association might wish. The organization was pronounced to be in a satis- factory working condition ; the Department of Education, on which much thought had been bestowed, was flourish- ing. With a view to an ultimate expansion into a perfect Phalanx, it was proposed to organize the three primary departments of labor, namely, Agriculture, Domestic In- dustry, and the Mechanical Arts. Public meetings had awakened an interest in the community. Appeals for money had been generously answered*.' The numbers had been increased by the accession of many skilful and enthusiastic laborers in various departments. About ten thousand dollars had been added by subscription to the capital. A work-shop sixty feet by twenty-eight had been erected ; a Phalanstery, or unitary dwelling on a large scale, was in process of erection, to meet the early needs of the preparatory period, until success should authorize the building of a Phalanstery "w r ith the magnificence and permanence proper to such a structure." The prospect was, or looked, encouraging. 8 1 70 TRANSCENDENTALISM. The experiment had been tested by the hard discipline of more than two years ; the severest difficulties had ap- parently been conquered ; the arrangements had attained systematic form, as far as the limited numbers permitted ; the idea was respectfully entertained ; socialism was spreading ; it embraced persons of every station in life ; and in its extent, and influence on questions of importance, it seemed, to enthusiastic believers, to be fast assuming in the United States a national character. This was in October 1844. At this time the Brook Farm Association- ists connected themselves with the New York Socialists who accepted the teachings of Fourier ; and the efforts described were put forth in aid of the new and more systematic plans that had been adopted. But this coal- ition, which promised so much, proved disastrous in its result. The Association was unable to sustain industrial competition with established trades. The expenses were more than the receipts. In the spring of 1847 the Phalan- stery was burned down ; the summer was occupied in closing up the affairs ; and in the autumn the Association was broken up. The members betook themselves to the world again, and engaged in the ordinary pursuits of life. The farm was bought by the town of West Rox- bury, and afterwards passed into private hands. During the civil war the government used it for military pur- poses. The main building has since been occupied as a hospital. The leaders of the Association removed to New York, and for about a year, till February 1849, contin- ued their labors of propagandism by means of the " Har- binger/' till that expired : then their dream faded away. PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 171 The full history of that movement can be written only by one who belonged to it, and shared its secret : and it would doubtless have been written before this, had the materials for a history been more solid. Aspirations have no history. It is pleasant to hear the survivors of the pastoral experiment talk over their experiences, merrily recall the passages in work or play, revive the im- pressions of country rambles, conversations, discussions, social festivities, recount the comical mishaps, summon the shadows of friends dead, but unforgotten, and de- scribe the hours spent in study or recreation, unspoiled by carefulness. But it. is in private alone that these confi- dences are imparted. To the public very little has been, or will be, or can be told. Mr. Hawthorne was one of the first to take up the scheme. He was there a little while at the beginning in 1 841, and his note-books contain passages that are of interest. But Hawthorne's temperament was not con- genial with such an atmosphere, nor was his faith clear or steadfast enough to rest contented on its idea. His, however, were observing eyes ; and his notes, being so- liloquies, confessions made to himself, convey his honest impressions : Brook Farm, April 13th, 1841. "I have not taken yet my first lesson in agriculture, except that I went to see our cows foddered, yesterday afternoon. We have eight of our own ; and the number is now increased by a Transcendental heifer belonging to Miss Margaret Fuller. She is very fractious, I believe, and apt to kick over the milk pail ... I intend to convert myself 172 TRANSCENDENTALISM. into a milk-maid this evening, but I pray Heaven that Mr. Ripley may be moved to assign me the kindliest cow in the herd, otherwise I shall perform my duties with fear and trembling. I like my brethren in affliction very well, and could you see us sitting round our table at meal times, before the great kitchen fire, you would call it a cheerful sight." " April 14. I did not milk the cows last night, because Mr. R. was afraid to trust them to my hands, or me to their horns, I know not which. But this morning I have done wonders. Before breakfast I went out to the barn and began to chop hay for the cattle, and with such " righteous vehemence," as Mr. R. says, did I labor, that in the space of ten minutes I broke the machine. Then I brought wood and replenished the fires ; and finally ( went down to breakfast, and ate up a huge mound of buckwheat cakes. After breakfast Mr. R. put a four- pronged instrument into my hands., which he gave me to understand was called a pitchfork ; and he and Mr. Farley being armed with similar weapons, we all three commenced a gallant attack on a heap of manure. This office being concluded, and I having purified myself, I sit down to finish this letter. Miss Fuller's cow hooks other cows, and has made herself ruler of the herd, and behaves in a very tyrannical manner." " April 16th. I have milked a cow ! ! ! The herd has rebelled against the usurpation of Miss Fuller's heifer ; and whenever they are turned out of the barn, she is compelled to take refuge under our protection. So much did she impede my labors by keeping close to me, that I found it necessary to give her two or three gentle pats with a shovel. She is not an amiable cow ; but she has a very intelligent face, and seems to be of a reflect- ive cast of character. I have not yet been twenty yards from our house and barn ; but I begin to perceive that this is a beautiful place. The scenery is of a mild and placid character, with nothing bold in its aspect ; but I think its beauties PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 1 73 will grow upon us, and make us love it the more the longer we live here. There is a brook so near the house that we shall be able to hear its ripple in the summer evenings, — but for agricultural purposes it has been made to flow in a straight and rectangular fashion which does it infinite damage as a picturesque object. Mr. R. has bought four black pigs." " April 22nd. What an abominable hand do I scribble ; but I have been chopping wood and turning a grind- stone all the forenoon ; and such occupations are apt to disturb the equilibrium of the muscles and sinews. It is an endless surprise to me how much work there is to be done in the world ; but thank God I am able to do my share of it, and my ability increases daily. What a great, broad-shouldered, elephantine personage I shall become by and by ! I read no newspapers, and hardly remember who is President, and feel as if I had no more concern with what other people trouble themselves about, than if I dwelt in another planet." "May 1st. All the morning I have been at work, under the clear blue sky, on a hill side. Sometimes it almost seemed as if I were at work in the sky itself, though the material in which I wrought was the ore from our gold-mine. There is nothing so disagreeable or unseemly in this sort of toil as you could think. It defiles the hands indeed, but not the soul. The farm is growing very beautiful now, — not- that we yet see anything of the peas and potatoes which we have planted, but the grass blushes green on the slopes and hollows. I do not believe that I should be so patient here if I were not engaged in a righteous and heaven-blessed way of life. We had some tableaux last evening. They went off very well." "May nth. This morning I arose at milking time, in good trim for work ; and we have been employed partly in an Augean labor of clearing out a wood- shed, 174 TRANSCENDENTALISM. and partly in carting loads of oak. This afternoon I hope to have something to do in the field, for these jobs about the house are not at all suited to my taste." "•June 1st. I think this present life of mine gives me an antipathy to pen and ink, even more than my Custom-house experience did. In the midst of toil, or after a hard day's work, my soul obstinately refuses to be poured out on paper. It is my opinion that a man's soul may be buried and perish under a dung heap, just as well as under a pile of money." "August 15th. Even my Custom-house experience was not such a thraldom and weariness as this. O, labor is the curse of the world, and nobody can meddle with V it, without becoming proportionably brutified ! Is it a praiseworthy matter that I have spent five golden months in providing food for cows and horses ? It is not so." " Salem, Sept. 3d. Really I should judge it to be twenty years since I left Brook Farm ; and I take this to be one proof that my life there was an unnatural and un- suitable, and therefore an unreal one. It already looks like a dream behind me. The real Me was never an as- sociate of the community ; there had been a spectral Ap- pearance there, sounding the horn at daybreak, and milking the cows, and hoeing the potatoes, and raking hay, toiling in the sun, and doing me the honor to assume my name. But this spectre was not myself." Mr. Hawthorne was elected to high offices, to those of Trustee of the Brook Farm estate, and Chairman of the Committee of Finance ; but he told Mr. Ripley that he could not spend another winter there. If we could inspect all the note-books of the community, supposing all to be as frank as Hawthorne, our picture of Brook Farm life would be fascinating. But his was, perhaps, the only note-book kept in the busy brotherhood, and his rather sombre view must be accepted as the impression of one peculiar PRACTICAL TENDENCIES. 175 mind. In the "Blithedale Romance," Hawthorne dis- claimed any purpose to describe persons or events at Brook Farm, and expressed a hope that some one might yet do justice to a movement so full of earnest aspiration. But he, himself, declined the task. "The old and affectionately remembered home at Brook Farm — cer- tainly the most romantic episode of his own life — essen- tially a day dream, and yet a fact — thus offering an avail- able foothold between fiction and reality," merely sup- plied the scenery for the romance. More than twenty y