The Mechanical Series, consisting of shoemaking, carpentering, sash and blind-makers' groups, were usually the same persons the year around. If, however, the shoemaker was tired of his group, and could be spared, he took his hoe and rake, and went into some group in the Farming Series for a change of occupation; the hours he spent there were put to his credit on the book of the group in which he labored in that series.
The Domestic Series had care of the houses and all domestic work, and was divided into Consistory, Dormitory and Kitchen Groups. There were also Washing, Ironing and Mending Groups, and perhaps some others. The beds, rooms, halls and lamps had to be attended to every day, water and towels provided, and the "Dormitory" and "Consistory Groups," situated as the Brook Farmers were, were obliged to go from house to house to attend to these duties.
There were independent groups on the farm, not connected with any series, as the Teachers' Group, and the Miscellaneous Group, who did a variety of miscellaneous work; and there was a Commercial Agent who bought and sold goods for the Association. There was also a group called "The Sacred Legion," who did exceptionally disagreeable labors, not from the love of them but from the sacred principle of duty. Only occasionally some repugnant task had to be undertaken, and be it to the honor of the leaders, not one of them, even the most fastidious or cultivated, shirked the responsibility of it.
The industrial system of Fourier has often been objected to as a mechanical arrangement, by which persons were fixed, automaton-like, and expected to work where they were placed, and has been opposed with the criticism that human beings are not automatic—that they have the restlessness of human nature and will constantly rebel at such conditions.
Another and a greater criticism has been that the levelling tendency, as is supposed, of the Fourieristic doctrines, is inimical to every-day experience, and that the natural differences of characters, ambitions and mental conditions were not recognized in the system, consequently there would be no place for all these varied human attributes to work and progress in.
These are very great errors, and are entirely attributable to the superficial knowledge of the man and his works. If ever there was a man in this universe who had faith in the Supreme Power, Fourier was that man. His theology covered theabsolute wisdomandabsolute goodnessof God. Starting from these two fixed standpoints, he believed that the Creator wisely planned the universe and laid out the destiny of the human race from its inception, as a wise and beneficent being, fixing its beginning and its end and all of the intermediate stages between them as parts of the plan. Creating man as a social being, he must, therefore, have created from the first the form of society under which he should, finally, as a race, pass the greatest portion of his sojourn here, and, being anabsolutely goodCreator, he must have created absolutely good social conditions as the destiny towards which all mankind is now tending, and which will finally be reached.
Having also created man with many varied talents, the society or the social order in which he intends him to live, must have room in it for the use and development of the variety he has created: a place for the strong, a place for the weak; a place for the proud, a place for the lowly; a place for the penurious, a place for the lavish; a place for the sober and a place for the gay. Moreover, if the Creator is wise, he has created just the number and variety of mental and physical personages to fill the otherwise empty places, and no others; for, if he has created a surplus of them, he is unwise, and they must be in discord with the rest. If the movements of the heavenly bodies are not left to chance, neither is the destiny nor the place of any human being in creation left to chance, either here or hereafter.
Far from any levelling tendency in Fourier's system, far from any communism, it contains, in itself, room for the completest aristocracy there ever was, the natural and the true aristocracy, ordained by the logical mind of the Creator, implanted in our natures, and which we intuitively admit and admire. But having given man freedom of will, not having made him to associate automatically, as he has, apparently, made the honey-bee, the beaver, the ant, and various social creatures, it is necessary for him to go through a period of ignorance, and, consequently, of some suffering, whilst he is learning by experience to find his powers and his position in creation, even as the little child does, who reaches out its hand for the moon, and stumbles over trifles lying in its way that were easily removed, could it, in its undeveloped condition, have sense enough to do it. But the two conditions are not possible, together. Both ignorance and knowledge of a subject cannot dwell in one person at the same time; therefore it is only slowly and painfully that we find, by degrees, our wonderful powers, the bountiful provision for happiness, and the grand destiny that so peacefully lies in the arms of the future, awaiting our embrace and caress.
Fourier discovered the arrangement in nature of the "Serial Order" or the law of the Groups and Series, which on paper seems formal, but is simply one of the mathematical rules of society, and which, under right conditions, does not intrude itself, any more than the rules of arithmetic do when we are buying a few apples, but are nevertheless ever present. The writer does not wish to impose a dissertation on his readers, but felt impelled to answer, in this place, these objections made by many worthy people.
The workshop, which was being built at the time of my arrival, was two stories in height, sixty by forty feet in size, with a pitched roof; well lighted with windows, and situated some three hundred yards behind the Hive, in a northwesterly direction. At its further end, in the cellar, was placed a horse-mill, afterwards exchanged for a steam-engine, that carried the machinery for all the departments of labor. Our engineer, Jean M. Pallisse, a worthy Swiss, a very intelligent man, had a calm face that fitted well with the quiet wreaths of smoke he sent up on the air, from his almost ever-present cigar. It was our delight to coax him to bring out his violin on dance nights, and give us a charming waltz or two. You would hardly associate his intelligent and pleasant face with the dull work of an engine room, but he was there day by day, faithful and regular as a clock, for he was in earnest. He had the sublime faith in him, and in later years held a responsible position in a wealthy importing house in New York City.
The shop was partitioned off, according to the needs of business, and in the time of our greatest numbers, when crowded with members and visitors, no other place being found to stow people in, beds were placed in its upper story.
The general impression of my first summer at Brook Farm is that it was one of great activity and great hopes. Everywhere the ambition was to enlarge—to increase the number of members, to increase the occupations, to increase the tillage by turning over the grass-grown meadows and "laying down" more land; to increase the nursery for young trees and plants, to increase the hay crop by clearing the brushwood and mowing the stubble close. Everywhere were busy people with ploughs and cultivators, hoes and rakes, and I was with them wherever there was work to be done.
The glory of the summer was the hay field. On the fair meadows we turned and gathered the hay. It was a large crop; although the hay was not all of the best, it was mostly of fair quality. And when the hoeing, weeding and haying were done, the farmers dug meadow-muck for compost.
Ready and willing as I was to try my hand at whatever came along, I went into the meadow and followed the plough with a bogging hoe, and one day tried digging muck but the chief of the group thought the labor was too heavy for me; I would have to wait until I grew stronger.
Coming home one day I was told that one of our number had passed away. She had been sick at the Hive a long while before my arrival. I could scarcely be called acquainted with her, though I had been into her room and called with others. In health she had been a brave worker, and in sickness bore her severe suffering patiently. Messrs. Chiswell and Tirrell of the Carpenters' Group were called on for their help, whilst Mrs. Pratt and others prepared the body for its final sleep. Members of the Direction selected a lovely spot in a little pine grove beyond the Pilgrim House for a grave, and we gathered for a last service.
I expected to hear Mr. Ripley speak, but true to a sensitive instinct of propriety he did not, for though he was at the head of the Association, she had her own faith and creed which he deemed sacred. She was an Episcopalian, and after the service was read by one of our number a solemn procession was formed which followed her body, borne on our light wagon, to the grave, where, singing a hymn, we left her quietly in peace.
Soon after the gardener planted some young evergreens, and placed flowering shrubs and a little fence around the sacred spot. If one must die, must surrender life, oh, where can it be done better than under such circumstances? From first to last no stranger's hand had aught to do with this sister either in life or in death. No idle or curiously intrusive person came near, and all the surroundings, though simple, were in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. There was no pomp or rivalry of show, no gaudy deckings, that we in our hearts despise, but which an unhallowed custom forces upon us; but all was done decently, lovingly, peacefully and well. It was a simple name she bore—Mary Ann Williams.
There was an amusement group, the members of which did not receive pecuniary compensation. Its duty was to provide amusement for the people and the scholars, as often as could be afforded, without trespassing on school and daily duties.
Miss Amelia Russell, a little, plump woman, with a pleasant smile, dimpled cheeks, round, laughing eyes, cultivated and easy manners, was chief of this group for a long period. Her title was "the mistress of the revels." Under her direction there were various plays, games, dances and tableaux.
Besides the walks in the fields and woods there was an occasional "children's festival," in the grove of pines, in which a large portion of the elders joined. There were plenty of amusements, for although the amusement group took general charge of them, there was nothing to prevent any person or number of persons from amusing themselves to any extent, and in any way, not interfering with the business of the place.
Being among the minors, the pleasures of dancing and roaming over the diversified country, were most attractive to me; for the young people danced without expense—as we were, anywhere, any time, for five or ten minutes, an hour or an evening, and it never became a dissipation; it was too natural and common to be a dissipation. There were never late hours. There was no dancing for show, or to display handsome clothes, but simply for the love of it, its harmony and love of one another's society and companionship.
When the cares and lessons of the day were laid aside, and the evening meal was over, we sauntered up the hill to the Eyry, and passing near the Cottage, would perhaps find some one at the piano in the music room, and if we numbered four or five, would waltz or dance to one or the other's playing, the players and dancers taking turns until it was time to stop. It might be there was a class in history or in reading at eight, or maybe singing school would soon commence. If so, that terminated the matter. Perhaps there was to be music at the Eyry,—there was no formality, we went without ceremony to hear it.
There were times when there was a regular "dance at the Hive." The mistress of the revels was kind enough to assist young or old, whose "education had been neglected," and who had never been taught their "steps," by forming a dancing class and including all in it; and it would have done your heart good to see the old fogies try for the first time in their lives to put on grace. Grace it was, but often of the oddest kind. Imagine the tall, spare figure of "the General," turned of forty, full six feet in height and stooping in the shoulders, all legs and arms—who could sit in a chair and wind his legs around each other until the feet changed places, and sit comfortably so—as pupil of the plump, little woman, straight as an arrow, and only (at a guess) four feet six in height, and looking shorter for her plumpness, taking his "one, two, three," and "forward and back steps."
Imagine, also, all hands seated at the supper tables, with the rattle of knives, forks, mugs and plates, and the full buzz of conversation; waiters crowding up and down, supplying the fast vanishing food, and everything cheerful, when a rapping on one of the tables arrests the attention of all. One of the gentlemen, arising, announces, "There will be a dance in this hall this evening, at eight o'clock, to which all are invited." This is received with applause by the young people. Perhaps it is a surprise to them; for some of the pupils who have a little pocket money, have gained permission of the authorities, and have sent for the Dedham "feedler," as our Dane used to call him, to play the violin and call the dances.
As for music, our orchestra was not very large. I am almost ashamed to say that one violin, solitary and alone, or a piano brought down from the Cottage, was often the only solace and cheer. But then the room was not large, and certainly it was not high, so that nothing was lost in its expanse, and truly the young man played very well, and I remember there were some brass instruments used on an especial occasion.
You should have been standing outside, looking in at the window just the time that supper was over. Wouldn't you have seen some busy young folks, clearing the tables and washing the dining-room ware! And you would have seen the clean, white mugs and plates put up in huge piles in the dining-room closet. Wouldn't the benches and tables disappear quickly, and the floor be swept, and the lamps lighted, and everything put in "apple-pie order"! And then the young women workers would disappear, and in a few minutes reappear dressed in their best, like magic pictures of youth and beauty, adorned in simple garments, with a rose bud or a wreath of partridge vine (Mitchella) with its bright red berries, woven into their tresses, or with some simple adornments; and then for an hour or two of enjoyment!
The dance would commence. One by one, after the young persons were in the midst of the revelry, the older persons would come in, and the non-dancers would range around as spectators; and now and then you would distinguish our leader by the curly locks, the gleaming eyes and gold-bowed spectacles, his glowing face expressing satisfaction in our enjoyment.
At ten o'clock, the dance ceased; immediately the tables and dishes would reappear, as if by enchantment, and in a twinkling the dining room was arranged for the morning. We had had our pleasure, and were ready to pay for it by restoring things to immediate order. Besides, what young man could leave the young ladies to set the tables alone, after having danced with them all the evening? After this there were hours enough left for sound sleep, and there were no headaches in the morning. The result was, all the young people grew strong, graceful and healthy.
My peculiar temperament and strong love of nature made the walks and wanderings in the fields dear to me. I recall them with the greatest pleasure, and think that some others among the living must do the same. There were no stated, regular hours for walking. The teachers went when their classes for the day were over; the young folks when their tasks were completed, or at twilight, in the long summer days, and often the larger parties were on Sunday afternoons, for then there was greater freedom from care. Some went to West Roxbury to church in the morning, some, maybe, to the Eyry to read Swedenborg or other writers, and unless Mr. Channing or some other minister who desired to preach was present, there were no set services; and even if there were, a walk might be arranged for a later hour in the summer afternoons.
The tall, slim figure of the wife of our president, wearing a Leghorn shade hat, with one or two graceful lady pupils by her side, was often present and leading the procession; then perhaps the manly form of our head farmer, and his stout wife, and his boys and girl; our "poet," always beside some fair maiden, in cheerful conversation; a visitor and the visited; groups of young people together, with muslin dresses, blue tunics and straw hats intermingled; children; and maybe the stately form of William Henry Channing, with his regular profile, and his head carried high, looking upward and off, as into far, pleasant and dreamy distances, walking beside a tall, black haired woman, with a spiritual face of high type,—in all some thirty to forty in number, making a delightfully picturesque group.
Such parties would generally make the large and beautiful pine woods that were near us theultimatumof their walk. Others would take a longer walk, to the thicker woods of "Cow Island" (now covered with houses), or to the Charles River. Leaving the farm they dived into the young oak woods, by a small path in the rear of the Cottage, and entering the magnificent grove of pines after a short walk, found a grassy wood path that led a long distance through them. Soon the party would begin to straggle and divide, some to gather wild flowers and berries, and more to find materials for wreaths, or ferns and mosses for decorations.
The walks ended where walks do that have no definite plan—anywhere in the woods, sitting on the boulders or the pine leaves, or in some shady nook where a topic would be found for discussion, or a pleasant book would be read. When the supper horn sounded, you found the absent ones together again, with bright, rosy faces and good appetites; and only a few of the younger folks would be late, who had strayed farther or walked slower, to enjoy the companionship of those of the same age; to listen to their sweet voices, and to linger, as only young folks love to linger.
The summer came on with joy and beauty. I recall the long waves of nodding grass, that swayed in the June wind and were chasing each other, fugue-like on the broad meadows. How beautiful it was, tipped with its various hues of green, yellow, red and purple, bending and rising as each breath of wind passed over it! The crops looked well, and the table was supplied with varieties of garden produce.
If you approached the farm in the middle of the forenoon, you wondered where all the people were, but at the sound of the first horn, half an hour before dinner, "from bush and briar and greensward shade" they would begin to start out like Robin Hood's men, and when the second horn was sounding, the daily, the tri-daily procession was fairly on the move, approaching the Hive from all sides. It was a very pretty and novel sight.
The men had been in the field planting, hoeing or weeding—the farmer's triad of duties in the vegetable field—and as they worked side by side, the questions of the day were discussed with freedom and with partisanship, but with good nature. The one who had a bias for art brought forward his art hobbies; the dress reformer aired his and the vegetarian argued his cause. Personal questions often came to the front—as how Smith probably voted in the Association meeting in the case of the admission of some mooted person; he was so sly you could not find out! And they quizzed one another, and they laughed and rivalled one another in speed of work, which they did faithfully and interestedly. It was a good school of human nature, and sooner or later each one was sized up with a deal of exactness. With the sounding of the horn the hoes were left in the field or put on the shoulder for the march to the barn, where, in its little room, the toilet for meals was made.
When I think under what disadvantages these toilers worked for five years, I wonder at their patience and firmness. What would our city families say to all going out from their apartments, male and female, young and old, and walking from an eighth to a quarter of a mile—often making their own path through the deep snow of our severe New England winters—three times each day, for the simple meals we had there to eat? What would they say to living in crowded rooms, without private parlors, and the public one at the Hive not much better than an office in a back country hotel, and the other disadvantages heretofore named and many more, simply for the principle of the thing?
Of course there was enthusiasm, and that sweetens many dull dishes; but for those used to home comforts, to be sandwiched in with comparative strangers—squeezed down, as it were, into a press—oftentimes having the family separated into various and disunited parts of the mansion or into different houses, was decidedly uncomfortable to bear.
These disadvantages could not but make the Association quite early decide that the one thing above all others needed was a new building with suites of rooms, where families could have the comforts and privacy of homes, which with a large kitchen, bakery, dining rooms, parlors, etc., would make a "unitary dwelling"; approximating to an apartment house of more modern days in many of its details, and improving on it as regards unitary cooking, dining and social conveniences.
The autumn fled rapidly away, and things had to be hurried up and put into shape for the winter. The gardener had no greenhouse, and was growling for fear the early frost might take a fancy to his plants. So the Association built him a temporary one in the "sand bank" by the side of the farm road, and the plan was to bend their energies towards getting the new dwelling started as early as possible in the spring, and to build a permanent greenhouse near it.
I do not know what passed in the General Direction during the winter. They were undoubtedly busy in endeavoring to obtain money for constructing the new building, preparing plans for its interior arrangement, and personally lecturing in various places, to aid in awakening the public to the new ideas, hoping also that some benefit might accrue to their organization, as well as to the cause, from their efforts.
The winter was mild, and it passed rapidly. There were coasting parties of young and old, but it was not often that the snow was favorable. There were literary societies, and we admired "the General" when he recited the part of the lean and hungry Cassius. He didn't stammer then, and he received the additional title of "Shakespeare's hero." These things, with reading, dancing and singing classes, an occasional "social" at the Hive, with private gatherings and chats around the kitchen fire by "Hiveites" (i.e., those living at the Hive), found us with spring at hand before we could realize it.
Among other matters in progress in the spring was the garden. The gardener was urging upon the Association the usefulness and profitableness of the growth and sale of garden and greenhouse plants and flowers; the great benefit they would be in adding attractiveness to the place, and also the importance of starting plants so that they might be growing into sizable shrubs, to return an early profit for their outlay. These facts decided the Association to commence a flower garden, and they located it on a partially level piece of ground behind the Cottage, covering perhaps a half acre, with a chance of future extension by cutting the wood adjoining and cultivating the untilled ground.
There was much labor put on this piece of land, as it was first reduced to a level by removing the soil and subsoil, and levelling the gravelly bottom; then returning the subsoil and soil to the top. Walks were next laid out with great care, and flower beds made. A border was also dug for the expected new greenhouse, and filled with rich soil and compost, and the end of the summer saw it erected.
But the most important step taken in the spring was the establishment of a journal devoted to the interests of Association and Associative life.
It is easy to see how naturally, independent of the need of an organ for a new movement, the Brook Farmers took to the idea of publishing a journal. In the first place there were at hand men who were abundant in talent; who were used to writing, and well up in literature and fine arts, to whom the idea was grateful as water to young ducks, And, second, there were at least two or three printers and compositors residing on the farm, who were as able in their department as the first named were in theirs. There was in this connection, also, the possibility at some future time of obtaining printing for the Printers' Group, should that branch of labor be well established.
The scheme cannot be better introduced than by giving here the prospectus of theHarbinger, the beautiful name of the new weekly paper. You will find in its brave words some of the ideas that the leaders of this movement developed, but more particularly the broad faith they had in human nature and in great principles applied to social life, and the greater trust they had that the Providence under which we live had ordained man for a sublime destiny.
The following is the prospectus of
Devoted to the Social and Political progress. Published simultaneously at New York and Boston, by the Brook Farm Phalanx. "All things, at the present day, stand provided and prepared, and await the light."
Under this title it is proposed to publish a weekly newspaper, for the examination, and discussion of the great questions in social science, politics, literature and the arts, which command the attention of all believers in the progress and elevation of humanity.
In politics, theHarbingerwill be democratic in its principles and tendencies; cherishing the deepest interest in the advancement and happiness of the masses; warring against all exclusive privilege in legislation, political arrangements and social customs; and striving with the zeal of earnest conviction, to promote the triumph of the high democratic faith, which is the chief mission of the nineteenth century to realize in society.
Our devotion to the democratic principle will lead us to take the ground of fearless and absolute independence in regard to all political parties, whether professing attachment to that principle or hostility to it. We know that fidelity to an idea can never be reassured by adherence to a name; and hence we shall criticise all parties with equal severity, though we trust that the sternness of truth will always be blended with the temperance of impartial candor. With tolerance for all opinions, we have no patience with hypocrisy and pretense; least of all with that specious fraud which would make a glorious principle the apology for personal ends. It will therefore be a leading object of theHarbingerto strip the disguise from the prevailing parties, to show them in their true light, to give them due honor, to tender them our grateful reverence whenever we see them true to a noble principle; but at all times, and on every occasion, to expose false professions, to hold up hollow-heartedness and duplicity to just indignation, to warn the people against the demagogue, who would cajole them by honeyed flatteries, no less than against the devotee of mammon who would make them his slaves.
TheHarbingerwill be devoted to the cause of a radical, organic social reform, as essential to the highest development of man's nature, to the production of those elevated and beautiful forms of character of which he is capable, and to the diffusion of happiness, excellence and universal harmony upon the earth. The principles of universal unity as taught by Charles Fourier, in their application to society, we believe are at the foundation of all genuine social progress, and it will ever be our aim to discuss and defend these principles, without any sectarian bigotry, and in the catholic and comprehensive spirit of their great discoverer. While we bow to no man as an authoritative, infallible master, we revere the genius of Fourier too highly not to accept, with joyful welcome, the light which he has shed on the most intricate problems of human destiny. The social reform of whose advent the signs are everywhere visible, comprehends all others, and in laboring for its speedy accomplishment, we are conscious that we are devoting our best ability to the removal of oppression and injustice among men, to the complete emancipation of the enslaved, to the promotion of genuine temperance, and to the elevation of the toiling and down-trodden masses to the inborn rights of humanity.
In literature theHarbingerwill exercise a firm and impartial criticism, without respect of persons or parties. It will be made a vehicle for the freest thought, though not of random speculations; and with a generous appreciation of the various forms of truth and beauty, it will not fail to expose such instances of false sentiment, perverted taste and erroneous opinion, as may tend to vitiate the public mind or degrade the individual character. Nor will the literary department of theHarbingerbe limited to criticism alone. It will receive contributions from various pens, in different spheres of thought, and, free from dogmatic exclusiveness, will accept all that in any way indicates the unity of man with man, with nature, and with God. Consequently all true science, all poetry and arts, all sincere literature, all religion that is from the soul, all wise analyses of mind and character, will come within its province.
We appeal for aid in our enterprise to the earnest and hopeful spirits in all classes of society. We appeal to all who, suffering from a resistless discontent in the present order of things, with faith in man and trust in God are striving for the establishment of universal justice, harmony and love. We appeal to the thoughtful, the aspiring, the generous everywhere, who wish to see the reign of heavenly truth triumphant, by supplanting the infernal discords and falsehoods on which modern society is built—for their sympathy, friendship and practical cooperation in the undertaking which we announce to-day.
TheHarbingerwas launched, and it weathered the, storm for four years, until its editors sought other and wider fields for their genius. Besides the motto on the prospectus, they took the following from Rev. William Ellery Channing: "Of modern civilization, the natural fruits are, contempt for others' rights, fraud, oppression, a gambling spirit in trade, reckless adventure and commercial convulsions, all tending to impoverish the laborer and render every condition insecure. Relief is to come, and can only come from the new application of Christian principles, of universal justice and universal love, to social institutions, to commerce, to business, to active life."
It was printed in quarto form, sixteen pages to every number, with clear type and in excellent style. The index of the first volume bears a list of twenty-two names as contributors, and it contains many worthy ones. The New York names were as follows:—
Albert Brisbane. William Henry Channing. Christopher P. Cranch. GeorgeWilliam Curtis. George G. Foster. Parke Godwin. Horace Greeley. OsborneMacDaniel.
The New England names were:—
Otis Clapp, Boston, Mass. William W. Story, Boston, Mass. T. WentworthHigginson, Boston, Mass. James Russell Lowell, Cambridge, Mass. J. A.Saxton, Deerfield, Mass. Francis George Shaw, West Roxbury, Mass. JohnG. Whittier, Amesbury, Mass.
Other contributors were:—
E. P. Grant of Ohio. A. J. H. Duganne of Philadelphia.
The Brook Farm writers were:—
George Ripley. John S. Dwight. Charles A. Dana. Lewis K. Ryckman.
In the second volume are two more of the Channing family ascontributors, Dr. William F. and Walter, and also the name of JamesFreeman Clarke, of Boston, with an additional writer from BrookFarm—John Orvis.
Mr. Ripley and Mr. Dana wrote most of the editorial Associative articles. Mr. Dana was the principal reviewer, and noticed the new books. Mr. Dwight wrote an occasional article on Association, reviewed, and attended to the musical and poetical department. He also earnestly advocated the doctrines of social and industrial life suggested by Fourier. Translations in prose and poetry were common. Parke Godwin and W. H. Channing assisted in translations or selections from Fourier's writings. George William Curtis wrote the musical correspondence from New York, and among the poetical contributions in the first volume, is one from J. G. Whittier, "To My Friend on the Death of His Sister," and five poems by Cranch, Higginson, Story, Lowell and Duganne; also poetic translations from the German by Dwight and Dana, as well as original poems by them.
The paper was not local. It aimed high as a purely literary and critical as well as progressive journal, and I must ever consider it a fault that it did not chronicle more of Brook Farm life. We look almost in vain through its pages for one word of its situation, finding none except in some allusions to it in the correspondence from abroad. Occasionally the school was advertised in a corner, but for the rest it might as well have been published elsewhere as at Brook Farm. The leaders, feeling that the life there was an experiment, and perhaps a doubtful one, were not disposed to gratify a curiosity which they probably considered morbid, by yielding to it. This was a mistake. It was a mistake, as much as it would be for us to leave out of our letters to our friends the petty incidents of daily life, and describe only grand principles and outside events. It is only to those loved most by us that we recite the trivial things, for we know that those trivialities link us closer than anything else, filling all the chinks in our friendship or love. It was a disappointment to those who desired to know often of the spirit of the workers, and of the little events that happened there, not to find more notices of them.
In many other respects theHarbingerwas a grand success. In all that pertained to music, criticism, poetry and progress no journal stood higher. I cannot tell of its pecuniary success for I do not find any memorandum of its finances. The first number commenced with a story translated from the French of George Sand (Madame Dudevant) entitled "Consuelo"—in some respects the sweetest story she ever wrote. It was translated by our neighbor, Mr. Francis G. Shaw, who would oftentimes mount his horse, and, with his little boy, a tiny fellow, on a pony by his side, gallop over to see us. How hard it is for me to realize that afterward the same little fellow, as Col. Robert G. Shaw, led his colored regiment through fire and smoke and the whizzing bullets up to the cannon's mouth of bloody Fort Wagner, and there laid down his life for his country.
Francis George Shaw was of a Boston family and a gentleman of means. He took great interest in our experiment and its hoped-for results. I have not words to praise his kindness, and his gentlemanly manner and bearing towards us all. He looked on life from a high standpoint. Wealth did not corrupt him. He was a Christian in large heartedness and philanthropy. He recognized his Maker's image in all men; the garment he saw through; the color he saw through; and he desired above all things the education, progress and culture of all the human family.
Appended is an additional list of all the advertised contributors of theHarbinger, during its publication at Brook Farm, not including those already mentioned:—
John Allen, Brook Farm. Jean M. Pallisse, Brook Farm. S. P. Andrews,New York, N. Y. William Ellery Channing, Concord, Mass. Joseph J.Cooke, Providence, R. I. Fred. Henry Hedge, Bangor, Me. Mark E.Lazarus, Wilmington, N. C. E. W. Parkman, Boston, Mass. J. H. Pulte,Cincinnati, Ohio. Samuel D. Robbins, Chelsea, Mass. Miss E. H. Starr,Deerfield, Mass. C. Neidhart, Philadelphia, Pa.
The presence of a weekly journal on the farm, with its varieties of current literature, poetry and music, could not but awaken in many of the colaborers most pleasurable emotions. Prose articles and poetry from it were discussed by daylight and by the fireside, by the roadside, in the shops, on the farm—in fact, everywhere. The "Admiral" was wild over Hood's "Bridge of Sighs." It was so quaint; the rhythm was so unique; it was so full of sentiment; it was so tender; it displayed so touchingly the sorrows of a young heart, and was so in harmony with the humanitarian sentiment of our lives, that he and others could but repeat it over and over, and the poet's rhymes kept ringing both in our physical and mental ears. The lines—
"One more unfortunate,Rashly importunateGone to her death.
* * * * *
Take her up tenderly,Fashioned so slenderlyYoung and so fair."
were repeated times without number. Cranch's, Story's and Duganne's poems were favorably criticised, the authors being friendly to the Association, and the verses of our own members touched tender spots.
When Mr. Emerson's poems were published, there was quite a desire to know what his sonnet to our friend William H. Channing was like. The disappointment was great when, instead of a grand, glowing sonnet to a great-souled man, it took up only an exceptional point of feeling in his mind on the Abolition question, on which they were not quite agreed. Quite a little discussion took place between two young persons as to the propriety of the lines,
"What boots thy zeal, O glowing friend,That would indignant rendThe Northland from the South?"
The one party contended that "boots" was entirely inadmissible in poetic phrase. "What boots? Cowhides or patent leathers?" said he, whilst the other contended that the whole scope of the meaning made the poetry. But still the first stuck to his point, that a grand sentiment needed grand words as well as grand ideas, and "boots" was a homely and inadmissible word with which to express a high sentiment.
Among the many volumes noticed, "Festus," by Philip James Bailey, was a constant source of admiration and criticism in some of our circles, and we had many varied ones. Listen to what Mr. Dwight said of it at the time in theHarbinger: "There are more original and magnificent images on a single page of Festus than would endow a dozen of the handsome volumes most in vogue. The conclusion you come to as you read on, is that his wealth of imagination is illimitable, and that you might as well cut a cloud out of the purple sunset atmosphere, as a figure from the boundless atmospheric beauty of this poem."
"Festus" still retains its charm for me.
TheHarbinger, as may be seen, was to be published by the Brook FarmPhalanx, notAssociation. The reason why the name was changed was because "Association" was not a definite one, conveying distinct impressions to the public mind, like "Community"; and the name "Phalanx," although to American ears, new in its connection, was expressive, and was also adopted by a number of social experiments just starting, and it was desirable to have them all associated in name as well as in general doctrine. The name "Community" was rejected because all the societies organized under that name held their property in common, which the "Association" distinctly did not.
There were other changes made at this time, more important in idea than in practice. The name "Areopagus" was applied to an enlarged general council, and our leader got in this connection, without warrant, the name of "the Archon."
"Come!" said jocose Drew to him one day, as he sat on the wagon-seat ready to start for the city, "we are waiting for you!"
"Ah!" was Mr. Ripley's reply, "I see you have thewag-on, and are now waiting for the Archon!"
The government was vested in a General Council consisting of four branches: First, a Council of Industry, composed of five members; second, a Council of Finance, of four members; third, a Council of Science, of three members, and fourth a President, who, with the chairmen of the other three councils, constituted a "Central Council." The Council of Industry was appointed by the chiefs of the several series devoted to manual industry; the Council of Finance, by the stockholders; the Council of Science, by chiefs of the series devoted to educational, literary and scientific matters, and the President by the concurrent vote of the three series.
The Areopagus, whose duty was advisory, consisted of the General Council; the chiefs of the several groups and series; stockholders holding stock to the amount of one thousand dollars or more; all members of the Phalanx over the age of forty-five who had resided on the place for two years or longer; and of such other persons as might be elected by this Council on account of their superior wisdom, merit or devotion to the interests of the Association; no person voting who was not a member of the Phalanx.
There was a curious and interesting addition to the constitution in the "Council of Arbiters," which was to consist of seven persons, "the majority of whom shall be women." To this council individuals and departments were to bring all complaints, charges and grievances not provided for in other ways. They were to take cognizance of all matters relating to morals and manners, and to report to the General Council all cases wherein their decision was not complied with. The reader can judge by this that there were men and women who understood "woman's sphere," and were ready to assist her to it quietly and naturally, long years ago in this little band.
A considerable number of arrangements were made to secure what was considered justice in the relation of capital to the Phalanx, its members and its stockholders. The capital stock was divided into three classes, namely: loan stock, or that which received a fixed percentage for use; partnership stock, depending on the general product of the Phalanx for its dividend; and labor stock, that represented the dividend to labor.
The arrangements for the dividends on stock of the several kinds were quite complicated, and, under the light of after events, seem farcical; but the constitution makers believed they were arranging matters not only for the Brook Farm experiment, but for all who might adopt the social life of the Phalanxes, present and future. Looking at it in this light, the constitution might deserve more thought than can be given to it now.
There was a preliminary article, written and signed by George Ripley,President, from which the following extracts are made:—
"At the last session of the Legislature of Massachusetts, our Association was incorporated under the name which it now assumes, with the right to hold real estate to the amount of one hundred thousand dollars. This confers upon us all the usual powers and privileges of chartered companies. We have introduced several branches of profitable industry, and established a market for their products; and finally, in the constitution which follows, we have applied the principles of social justice to the distribution of profits in such a manner that the best results are to be expected.
"Nothing is now necessary to the greatest possible measure of success but capital to furnish sufficient means to enable us to develop every department to advantage. This capital we can now apply profitably and without danger of loss. We are well aware that there must be risk in investing money in an infant association as well as in any other untried business, but with the labors of nearly four years, we have arrived at a point where this risk hardly exists. Not that we have surmounted all the difficulties of the enterprise; these are still sufficiently abundant. But we have, by no means with ease, laid the foundation, and now stand ready to do our part in rearing a superstructure, which approaches more nearly to the ideal of human society than any that has as yet existed—a society which shall establish justice between all interests and all men; which shall guarantee education, the right to labor, and the rights of property to all, and which by actual demonstration of a state of things every way better and more advantageous, will put an end to the great evils which at present burden even the most fortunate classes.
"What we have already been able to accomplish ought to give weight to our words. We speak not from abstract conviction, but from experience; not as mere enthusiasts, but as men of practical common sense, holding in our hands the means of escape from the present condition of society, and from that still more frightful state to which in all civilized countries it is hurrying.
"Accordingly, we calmly and earnestly invite the aid of those who perceive how little security existing institutions offer against the growth of commercial feudalism on the one hand, and pauperism on the other—of those whose sympathies are with the unfortunate and uneducated masses; of those who long for the establishment of more true and genial conditions of life, as well as of those who are made restless and fiery-souled by the universal necessities of reform.
"But by the increasing number, whose most ardent desire is to see the experiment of Association fairly tried, we are confident that the appeal we now make will not be received without the most generous response in their power. As far as their means and their utmost exertions can go, they will not suffer so favorable an opportunity for the realization of their hopes to pass unimproved."
I cannot say that I think all parties in the Association were pleased with the changes in the constitution. They were not simple enough to be easily applied and quickly comprehended, and were too weighty and cumbersome for the little society.
Early in the second spring (1844) of my sojourn at the farm it was decided to build a large unitary building on the high ground, almost directly in front of the Eyry, though at some distance from it, on the eastern verge of the slope facing the meadow, and nearly in line with the distant town road. It was late when the preparations were concluded and the work was commenced. There was not money enough in the treasury to pay for it, but it was thought that means would come. The result of the season's work was that the foundation walls were laid, the first floor was boarded, and thus it was left for the winter.
It was to be an oblong, wooden building, with an entrance on a level with the earth terrace. The lower floor was divided into some five or six apartments, with parlors, a reading room, reception rooms, large dining hall, with an adjoining kitchen and bakery. From the main hall or entry, which was on the left of the centre of the building, arose a flight of stairs which led out on to a corridor or piazza which extended across the whole front of the building. This corridor was duplicated by one above it, and the roof jutted out to a line with the lower story and covered them both. Pillars supported the roof, and were attached to and supported the corridors. On the lower corridor or piazza were the entrances to the suites. There were seven doorways that entered seven houses, as distinct as any other seven houses, except in being connected by the corridors and being under one roof, each house containing two suites. Thus could privacy be maintained and sociability increased.
The building would add wonderfully to the advantages of the Association, and being near the centre of the domain, would diminish the travel which consumed a great deal of time. It would give room for increased numbers; would furnish a suitable assembly room, and more especially would it give to the larger families a chance to place their members together in the natural family order. It would also allow the other buildings to be used exclusively for family purposes, and if success increased the resources of the Association, the main building would be enlarged by adding wings to it.
The proportion of unmarried persons in the Association was large, and young men predominated. They had, in a general sense, a good home in the Association, but there was lacking the family circle to draw around at night, and a good deal of motherly care and sympathy. They were reliable young men, and many of the families would not have objected to having them joined to their evening circles, had they not been crowded themselves; to having a sympathizing care over them, and to looking after many of those trifling things that make the difference between comfort and discomfort.
It was a theory that all should have a home—that the Association, as a general home, should not take the place of the private family; and it was also considered a duty by many to join to their family circles one or more of these single persons. It was proposed in the apportionment of the rooms in the new building, to place a family in each house and proportionately distribute the young men, when desirable to do so, among them. This would give all a more equal chance, and not doom the young and productive members to reside in attics, or in groups in any place convenient for the Association, in its crowded state, to put them.
Extracts from the Financial Report to the Association.
"The Direction of Finance respectfully submit their annual report for the year ending Oct. 31, 1844:—
The income of the Association during the year from all sources whatever has been . . . . . . .$11,854.41 and its expenditures for all purposes, including interest, losses by bad debts, and damage of buildings, tools and furniture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10,409.14
leaving a balance of . . . . . . . . . . . . 1,445.27from which deducting the amount ofdoubtful debts contracted this year . . . . 284.43————we have . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $1,160.84
which is to be divided according to the Constitution.
"By the last yearly report of this Direction it appears that the Association has been a loser up to November 1, 1843, to the amount of $2,748.83. In this amount was included sundry debts against associates amounting to $924.38 which should not have been included. There were also some small discrepancies which were afterwards discovered, so that on settling the books, the entire deficit appeared to be $1,837.00.
"To this amount should be added the proportion of the damage done to the tools, furniture and general fixtures and depreciation in the live stock, by the use of the two years which the Association has been in operation previous to that time. The whole damage of this property by the use of these years has been ascertained by inventory to be $365.54, according to the estimates and statements prepared by Messrs. Ryckman and Hastings, which are herewith submitted.
"Of this sum, $365.54, we have charged one third, $121.85, to the account of the current year, and two thirds, $243.69, to the account of the two preceding years. To the same amount should also be added sundry debts which have since proved to be bad, amounting in all to $678.08, and also an error in favor of I. Morton amounting to $17.74, which has since been discovered in his account, so that the total deficit of the preceding years will appear to be as follows:—
Deficit on settling the books….. $1,837.00Damage on furniture and fixtures….. 243.69Bad debts, including debts ofassociates considered doubtful……. 678.08I. Morton………………………. 17.74
Total………………………… $2,776.51
"From this amount is to be deducted the value of the farm produce consisting of hay, roots, manures, etc., on hand November 1, 1843, which was not taken into the amount of last year, but which has been ascertained to be $762.50, as well as the value, $49.13, of the family stores which were on hand at the same time, but were also omitted from the amount.
"Deducting these two amounts ($762.50+$49.13= $811.63) from the deficit as above stated we have:
Deficit………. $2,776.51 Farm produce and family stores……. 811.63
Real deficit for 1842 and 1843…. $1,964.88
"It was the opinion of a majority at least of this Board that this sum must be chargeable upon the future industry of the Association, and that no dividend could be declared until it had been made up. Accordingly the quarterly statement for the quarter ending August 1, 1844, was based upon this opinion, and a deficit of $526.78 declared to exist at that time. It is but justice to say that that statement was made up in the absence of one of the members of the Direction, Mr. Ryckman, who on seeing it objected entirely to the principle which it embodied. Subsequent consideration has convinced the Direction that the statement was in that respect erroneous, and that the transactions of previous years ought not to affect the operations of this, in the way proposed in the statement. It should be borne in mind that the deficit before spoken of is not a debt in itself, but is the difference between the amount of our debts and our joint stock, and the nominal value of our assets. The Association is not bound to pay the sum or to make it good in any way. It pays interest upon it, but can never be called on to pay the principal. The sum total of the actual liabilities of the Association, that is, of debts and obligations which it is bound at some time or other to pay, is much exceeded by the cost value of its property. Its joint stock, which it is not bound to pay, much exceeds the deficit we are speaking of, so that clearly the deficit is not to be paid, but only the interest upon it, that is, five per cent per annum forever. So that it is evident that the principal is by no means chargeable upon the industry of the present or of future years, but only the interest. And even if the said deficit were a debt to be paid it would still, as we conceive, be perfectly just and legitimate to issue stock for its amount to those members by whose labors it was made up. Because in that case we should merely, in consideration of such labor, bind the Association to the yearly payment of the interest aforesaid according to the terms of our joint stock compact.
"This is, as we are persuaded, the only way whereby labor can receive justice. If a hundred dollars in money is invested in our stock, we issue certificates for that amount, and why must we not do the same with an investment of a hundred dollars' worth of labor? The claim in the latter case seems to us even more imperative than in the former. The dividend of each year ought, as we are convinced, to be made with reference solely to the difference between its gains on the one hand, and its expenditures and losses on the other.
"The earlier losses of the establishment must be regarded as the price of much valuable experience, and as inevitable in starting such an institution. Almost every business fails to pay its expenses at the commencement—it always costs something to set the wheels in operation; this is not, however, to be regarded as absolute loss. This is the view which is to be taken of the condition of the Association at the beginning of the present year.
"The true value of any property is precisely the sum on which, in the use for which it was designed or which it may be put to, it pays the requisite interest. The price of railroad stock, for example, is not regulated, either by its original cost or by the present intrinsic worth of the property it represents, but by the dividend it pays and by the condition and durability of the railroad. For any other use than as a railroad the property of the road is of course comparatively worthless, but that consideration has no effect upon its value.
"The case is entirely the same with the property of this Association. As long as it is able, in the use and under the management of the Association, to pay the stipulated interest—five per cent per annum—upon the stock shares by which it is represented, so long those stock shares will be worth par, whatever may be the nominal cost of the property, or its value for any other purposes than those of the Association.
"In accordance with these views and for other considerations which we shall hereafter allude to, this Direction is altogether of opinion that the results of this year's industry ought to be divided irrespective of the results of former years, and certificates of stock issued to those persons who are entitled to such dividends.
"To some persons it may perhaps seem remarkable that a dividend should be declared when the Association is so much in want of ready money as at present, but a little reflection will show anyone that it is a perfectly legitimate proceeding. A very large part of our industry has been engaged in the production of permanent property such as the shop, the Phalanstery and the improvements upon the farm. These are of even more value to the Association than so much money, and a dividend may as justly be based upon them as upon cash in the treasury.
"As soon as the Phalanstery shall be completed it will become necessary to establish different rates of room rent. It is a matter of doubt whether such an arrangement is not already desirable. In our present crowded condition, indeed, the general inconveniences are distributed with tolerable equality, but still it is impossible to avoid some exceptions, and it might contribute to the harmony of the Association if a just graduation of rates for different apartments should now be established. As far as possible no member should be the recipient of peculiar favors, but when all are charged at an equal rate for unequal accommodations, this is unavoidable. For the same reason a difference should be made between the price of board at the Graham tables, and those which are furnished with a different kind of food. It is only by this means that justice can be done and differences prevented.
The first thought that will arrest the attention of some in reading this report is the smallness of the figures. It does not appear to-day that the corporation was much of a financial affair, for there are thousands of persons in our land now who could easily sustain such an institution and pocket its yearly losses; but we must bear in mind that the intervening years have changed the value of money, and its relation to property. A fair price for a mechanic's labor then was a dollar for a day of ten to twelve hours; the same persons would now receive three to four times as much for less hours. We should remember also that the colossal fortunes of to-day were not in existence then. The means at the command of the Association were very small, and the wonder is that with so little money capital the enterprise should have attracted the wide notice it did.
In this report was an allusion to the Graham table. In the dining room there was always, at the time of which I write, one table of vegetarians—those who used no flesh meats, and generally no tea or coffee. They passed under the name of "Grahamities," from the founder of the vegetarian system in America, Dr. Sylvester Graham, whose name is still connected with bread made of unbolted wheat because it was by him considered the very perfection of human food. These persons were of both sexes, different ages and occupations. They worked on the farms, in the schools, the houses and the shops. They had the diet of the place, minus the meat and sometimes the tea and coffee. Little attention was paid at first to this departure from common habits, but by degrees the numbers increased until they began to be a power. Their constancy, their earnest belief, soon swept away all ridicule, and the proof that they could do their share of daily work was not wanting. Among the number were many very devoted and cheerful persons.
Dispensing with meat, with the restricted diet, led some to say: "Our table does not cost as much as the others, for we eat no meat, saving the expense of it to the Association, and we drink no tea or coffee, saving that cost also. Let us have the money we have economized, spent for us in things that we want, in additional fruit and vegetables, or in some articles of diet that we need to replace the food we do not use." The answer to it was that the Association furnished certain things, and if the members did not eat them it was their loss, as it could not be expected that the Association could cater to individual tastes. But after a while the injustice was made apparent, and it led to the notice we have just read in the report.
I have been requested to give my personal testimony as to the effect of a vegetarian diet as seen at Brook Farm. I willingly do so. For two or three years the farmers, mechanics and others worked side by side, and no one could conscientiously say that in ability to work in any field of labor, physical or mental, the vegetarians were out-matched by their companions. Their health was fully maintained and their mental cheerfulness was surpassed by none.
From this report it can easily be learned that no important financial progress had been made at Brook Farm, and that any accumulation of wealth was yet in the future. The Brook Farmers were working in hope. It was still an experiment, and as an experiment it will be necessary for me to point out by-and-by the defects which will answer the often asked question, "Why did Brook Farm fail?" But it is well to bear in mind the starting point. Most men of business go into trade with a capital, some reserved fund, but the Brook Farmers had none, and as they progressed, the want of it was more and more felt. "It is the first step that costs," as the French proverb says, and the Brook Farmers had a great many first steps to take, steps that no others had taken, and inevitable costs and losses must occur. But we pass on into the second spring of my Brook Farm life.
And here another character came into our circle, and joined in work on the farm. He was very enthusiastic. His wife had lately died, and he brought her body to Brook Farm as to Holy Land and buried it in the little grove by the side of our first and only grave, so that there were now two mounds that the gardener ornamented with sods, shrubbery and flowers.
I do not think this new friend had a fine face. His features were not large, and, if we except the full forehead, not very attractive. His mouth was small, and his dark brown hair asserted its rights in spite of brush and comb, and would not lie gracefully down over his brow, and it added to the look of determination there was in the little man's countenance, shown by the lines in his face and the rigid and spare muscles, a "hold on" expression which so well coincided with his character.
New England at this time put its fingers in its ears and stifled the beatings of its heart that kept time with justice, in order that the peace of our country should not be disturbed by men who thought slavery a curse, and proclaimed it so. Rev. John Allen was then in a pulpit, and dared to speak his mind to his people, at which they rebelled and would not hearken. "Speak I must; speak I will," said he, "or we part! Let me but preach a sermon once a quarter on the subject of slavery!" But the church said, "No." "Let me then but preach once in six months," and the church said, "No." Finally he said he would continue with them if they would allow him to preach one sermon a year on the subject—I doubt not that thatonewould have carried flint and steel enough to set fire to all the tinder in the congregation—but the church would not listen, and they parted.
He had one little child, an infant a year or two old, who, deprived of his mother, was brought to the farm and had a great deal of attention and pity bestowed upon it. This little boy brought a misfortune which threatened the lives of the members, the business and life of the Association. He was the pet of his father, who took him to Boston on his lecture tours and brought him back, for Mr. Allen was engaged to lecture for the cause. The child had never been vaccinated, and being ill at the Hive, it was discovered that he had symptoms of small-pox, which disease he had taken somewhere in the city. Imagine the commotion among the persons who had handled and fondled the young darling, and in the Association in general! But the bravery of men and women who had dared to leave their homes and share the fortune and fate of this young Community was everywhere displayed.
The child was isolated and cared for, but in due time backaches and headaches foretold the coming of the dreaded disease, and preparations were made for anticipated results. The Cottage was vacated, and the sick were conveyed thither. The disease took a variety of forms. There were those who had nothing but the symptoms, or a pustule or two; some had a few dozen on them, scattered from head to foot; they were almost absolutely well; they refused to be made invalids of; they kept at work on the farm or were only disabled for a day or two when the disease was at its height. The lighter cases increased in number, and finally the Direction saw it was useless to try to isolate all, and that the disease must have its run, and they must trust to fate for final results. The worst cases were in the improvised hospital, under the care of kindly nurses. "Hired," say you? No; not a bit of it! but dear, kind women and men volunteered to attend to this sacred duty, and after weeks of imprisonment, came out with the glory of having protected every life, and the Associated family lost not a member. There were more than thirty cases. The simple diet, the pure air and the healthy mental stimulus of cheerful lives, with the knowledge that they were something more than in name a united body, must have had its effect, for the whole trouble passed away like a summer shower, and left no permanent impression on the society. There were three or four extreme cases, but only one or two persons who bore scars that were defacements, and there was no panic in our midst. The members took the whole matter with wonderful coolness.
Like a shower it wiped out the army of visitors! When any persons came, an attendant warned them of our condition ere they reached the Hive door, and they precipitately retreated. Occasionally only, a carriage or a few persons travelled the accustomed ways. Not until the epidemic had passed did the interminable throng resume its accustomed walk, or strange faces appear at the "visitors' table," and our many constant and cheerful friends greet us again as of yore. The labor of the Association was much disarranged, and there was loss in many ways, but it was truly to be congratulated that it escaped from such an unusual danger as comfortably as it did. From the first days of the Community until its close, there was only one death on the farm, and that of the person described in a former chapter.