Student Life.

BROOK FARM, MASS., Oct. 27, 1842.

My Dear Friend:—Pardon my delay in writing you in reply to yours of the 15th ult., but there have been matters of interest that have occupied my leisure, and so much so that only now do I find myself free to exchange good wishes with you and to answer the important questions you put to me as to what I think of, and how I like, the Brook Farm life.

To reply to these questions I might write a long dissertation explaining what I like and what I do not like, or I could answer them by a few brief words; but my inclination is to do neither, and to give you in place of both a little sketch of the proceedings here and make you the judge of what my feelings would be likely to be under the circumstances that I shall narrate.

I am still a student, and most of my time has been spent in studies of various sorts; the languages—ancient and modern—attracting me a great deal, but the German and the French the most. I do not "burn the midnight oil," and yet I think I am progressing well. Our teachers are all very approachable men and really seem in dead earnest. You might suppose from rumors that reach you that they would be very notional people, but they are not so, or, to say the least, if they are they keep their notions to themselves. Mr. Dana, Mr. Bradford and Mr. Dwight are particularly kind to me, and all the teachers go out of the way to explain points that come up in the lessons.

After hours, we have had many interesting conversations, class readings, dramatic readings, etc., and visitors come who entertain us in various ways. Miss Frances Ostenelli, for one, who has a wonderful soprano voice, and Miss S. Margaret Fuller from Concord—there is no end to her talk—and also Mr. Emerson from Concord, to whom a good many pay deference.

Whilst he was here there was a masquerading wood party. It was quite a bright idea. Miss Amelia Russell was one of the persons who planned it. Her father has been minister to Sweden and was one of the commissioners who signed the Treaty of Ghent. It was an open-air masquerade in the pine woods, and the affair was worked up splendidly. Masquerades have been, in New England, of a private nature and held indoors. To hold one out "in the garish light of day" was a new sensation, and attracted some of the friends of the Community. The day was lovely and in the woods the privacy was complete. Barring one or two friendly neighbors of farmer stock who looked on, it was truly a select party. One of the ladies personated Diana, and any one entering her wooded precincts was liable to be shot with one of her arrows. Further in the woods a gipsy, personated by Miss 'Ora Gannett, niece to Rev. Ezra Gannett, was ready to tell your fortune. Miss "Georgie" Bruce was an Indian squaw, and "George William" Curtis, a young man, carried off the palm as "Fanny Elssler" the dancer. There was a mixed variety of characters that made up the tout ensemble—a Tyrolean songster, sailors, Africans, lackeys, backwoodsmen and the like. The children enjoyed the day much. A large portion of the dresses were home-made. Dances and conversation by the elders filled the day and evening.

Sometimes we have the serious business. Some of the singular persons here affect vagaries and discuss pruderies or church matters, ethics and the like. Or we have some of the Concord people who give us parlor talks. Once in a while they arouse the gifted brothers, and then we have a genuine treat; Mr. Dwight and Mr. Bradford, Mr. Ripley, Mr. Capen, Burton and all hands get dragged in, and in the earnest discussion that follows one cannot but be edified and often very much instructed. Subjects relating to a more rational life and education for the poor and unlearned interest me and arouse my enthusiasm. There are some fine lady as well as gentlemen readers, who show their ability in poetry and prose, and, for the amusement of the young people, some devote their talents on occasions to tableaux, which are delightful and display fine historic scenes and characters.

I rise in the morning at six to half-past; breakfast at seven; chat with the people; get to my studies at eight; work an hour in the garden; recite; dine at noon; take an hour in the afternoon on the farm; drive team; cut hay in the barn; study or recite; walk; dress up for tea at six. In long days the sunsets and twilights are delightful and pass pleasantly with a set of us who chum together. I am so near Boston that I go to concerts and lectures with others, or to the theatres, or to the conventions, the antislavery ones being most exciting. In summer I join the hay-makers. In winter we coast, boys and girls, down the steep though not high hills, in the afternoons, or by moonlight, or by the light of the clear sky and the bright stars; or we drive one of the horses for a ride, or we skate on the frozen meadow or brook to the Charles River where its broad surface gives plenty of room.

One thing I like here—everything but in my lessons I have perfect freedom to come or go and to join in and be one with the good people or not. I am not hampered. I go to church or not, as I desire, and I can do anything that does not violate the rules of good breeding; but I am expected to be in my room at a seasonable hour at night—ten o'clock, sure.

Thus have I given you my programme. Can you think I would do better elsewhere? I might have more style, a better table, and more room to see my friends in, though the parlors here are good enough, but where could I have more genuine comfort? I expect to go home by New Year's, returning, if I can, by March, and am so in love with the life I may try to attach myself to it permanently. In the meantime I will see you, and hope to enjoy with you many hours of conversation after the oldtime way at our house. As ever,

Your student brother,

CHARLES.

Explanations and Answers to Objections.

BROOK FARM, MASS., Dec. 11, 1845.

FRIEND HARRIS:—As you are a stranger to the associative ideas, and have but little knowledge of our life here, no doubt many questions arise in your mind that you wish answered, and might be answered by me if I knew what they were; but knowing what questions usually appear most prominent to the average mind, I will try my hand at a few of them as they present themselves to me. Number one is, What were my first impressions of the idea of associative life; that is, did the idea strike me pleasantly or not? I frankly reply to this that the idea was decidedly unpleasant. It so connected itself in my mind with some sort of an "institution," as a great hospital or infirmary or "Dotheboys" school, where Smikes or incipient Smikes went daily to a restricted routine, and thrice daily, with the rest of imprisoned souls, to the special amount of grub and rations provided by some personal or impersonal Squeers, that I could not but at once reply to the person speaking of it that I should not like any such institution.

The next question is, How did my mind change on this subject? I answer, by reflection and continued conversation with those who were intimate with the ideas. Mark this: There is nothing so absurd as the first presentation of great facts to the mind; the greater the fact, the greater its apparent absurdity, and the greater will be our hate or want of welcome to it if it runs contrary to our preconceived ideas.

Every visible thing is presented to the retina of the eye, the looking-glass of the brain, upside down, and it is by study that begins at birth, and is finished ere remembrance commences, that the child of God and man is able to detect the true relation of material things to himself. We have not yet learned the importance or significance of this arrangement, but why may not we find in future investigations that the mental vision is governed by the same law, and that thoughts strike the brain or mental sensorium in the same inverted way? So universally do law and life differ from their semblances, that it appears to me to be one of our supreme duties to learn to reverse primitive ideas.

A question also comes to you in this wise: How could one make up his mind to associate with all sorts of people that they might meet in one of these "Communities"? A man in the ordinary chances of life has to meet all sorts of persons, does he not? Ignorant dependents are in your house, sleeping under your roof. Your tradesmen may be rude, unkind and unlettered. Passing from your door you jostle, it may be, the murderer and highwayman on the street; you enter a car, and the driver's breath is perhaps reeking from his last night's debauch; you sit, possibly, between the pickpocket on one side and the patient yet uncured from some epidemic on the other. You pass to your business through a street full of roughs, and in your own store are men wishing you to die that they may take your place, seeking every opportunity to overreach you; and then wonder if I smile when you ask me how I could "mix up."

In reply to me, you may say that the relation is different; that you do not take these persons to your table and associate with them as one is obliged to in one of your "Associations." It is true that you may not sit at meat with these especial persons; but how many live at hotels where the next neighbor at table, to whom, if you are a gentleman, you show politeness, is entirely unknown to you, and may be a swindler, cheat or knave. But you associate with him only as much as it is necessary for you to do; and that is just as much as you are obliged to do in an Association, and no more. It does not follow because I sit at meat here at Brook Farm with a hundred, I have intimate social relations with all of them. On the contrary, there are those to whom I seldom speak unless to give them a passing salutation, and some who are civilly disposed, who do no more, or as much, to me.

In a society of which you might be a member, with a full privilege to assist in its organization, you will be better able to choose those of congenial qualities for associates than you ever can in your present position, so that your life, after a while, may be select in its chosen companions, and a great deal more so in its general social features than now.

Since I came here I find my ideas all changed in relation to this subject. Instead of the yoke that I felt would be on me, I find freedom—freedom to speak, to act, and a truly self-imposed government. The yoke I expected to find is very easy and the burden is light. I enjoy my life and home. We have not much of worldly goods, but we are united and we look high up—some say to cloud-land; but I assure you that on the average there is nowhere a clearer-headed set of persons on social questions than here, and association is now to me the most beautiful thing on earth. The life and ideas are all one with harmony. Surely is it not better for me to begin life this way than with doubt and distrust of my fellows? Doubt begets doubt; faith begets faith; action begets action. If we can get enough persons to follow us, we can prove whether our ideas are true or not. Surely the dull, monotonous life of "religious communities" like the Moravians, Shakers, Rappites and others find followers; why not this bright, happy, cheering, frank life of ours?

We are expecting a visit from Horace Greeley soon; I have never seen him, but we have heaps of strangers coming every day, some quite distinguished and some plain folks, but the average are wide-awake people.

Truly your friend,

JOHN C. FOSTER.

Letter on Social Equality.

BROOK FARM, MASS., Sept. 9, 1845.

MY DEAR SISTER: Do not think that the great minds here teach social equality, as many seem to think they do. To hear outsiders talk one would imagine that the leaders want that all should be of the same pattern; that the tall geniuses should be cut down to an average, and the dwarfs set up on stilts to make them of the same height as the others. How far from it!

Added to this indignity, outsiders appear to think that rations are served as in the army, and that it is an absolute necessity in order to fulfil some absurd law, that every man, woman and child should sit down together at the same exact time, and eat the aforesaid rations together; and also, there being some good and able men here, that they court connection with weak people of any complexion so as to make a fair average: and they feel that such conditions, to say the least, are unnatural; and so would I, if there was truth in the position, but there is not a particle. It oftentimes seems to me that people take a sort of pleasure in misrepresenting facts, or seem to have a satisfaction in thinking that they know about as much as the average person, and that it would be a sin to know a little more. They are pardoned for their ignorance because nearly, if not all, the social organizations that have departed from the common customs of society and have formed "communities" have striven for equality of property rights and society rights, and often for sameness in dress and religious ceremonies. This is the nut that all persons who look superficially at us and at the community system, find hard to crack. They feel that if a person has an ambition to be more than another, to desire more, to desire to wear a different garment and pray differently or worship differently, they should have the inherent right to do so.

And this is the feeling that these common-sense people, these intelligent people of Brook Farm who organized this society, have and believe in, and they have tried to arrange all their laws and customs to conform to these evident truths. And also, they never would have adopted any of the formulas or ideas of Fourier, had they not believed his Industrial Phalanxes allowed all the variety of social conditions that make a true society or social order. No attempts ever undertaken had the sanction of Fourier, because they had not the proper number of persons to make a start with. "By no means," said Fourier, "attempt to organize a phalanx with less than four hundred persons; that is the very least number you can have and have a sufficient number of characters to produce anything like harmony." His idea was, that from fifteen to eighteen hundred persons would be the true number.

The Brook Farmers have never preached social equality, but social rights. Social equality is a thing that comes from individual ability, and is never positively fixed, but relative, because there are talents superior and inferior mingled in each human being, and the king may wonder how the cook put the apples in the dumplings. With the larger number of individuals stated, a greater chance is given to find "mates" and "chums," and the less likelihood there would be in the imperfectly organized societies of rude contact—for who could doubt that all such societies, even the very best, would be imperfect for generations to come?

I take it that this is the gist of the reason why the so-called social equality is so repulsive to theorists who have not comprehended the great difference between social equality and social rights. Once and for all, I do not believe, we do not believe, in social equality; but we do believe that societies can be established in such a manner as to secure in a large degree the rights of all, and be perfectly practicable, and that in time they will develop into true harmony.

As ever your sincere

BROTHER CHARLIE.

Religious Views.

BROOK FARM, MASS., June 9, 1845.

MY DEAR FRIEND:—In reply to your question as to what the religious views of the Brook Farmers are, I might, if I wished to be curt, say that they are such as you see by their lives. I am aware, however, that such a reply will not exactly suit you, and that you really mean what are their creeds, as, are they all Baptists, Trinitarians, Unitarians, or what not? And I answer you that I find here those who were brought up in every kind of belief; some who are from the Roman Catholic Church; some from the Jewish; some Trinitarians; some Unitarians; some from the Swedenborgian Church; some who are Liberals; some who are called "Come-Outers," and Mr. P., who professes to be, and is more like an infidel than any other man I ever saw.

They call some of the residents here "Transcendentalists." You may judge from the name that they must be either very good or very bad people, but they represent people of education who are a little "high stilted" in their religious views, and do not take in all the wonderful Mosaic traditions. At least, this is as near as I can explain it to you. It is the fashion to call every one who has any independent notions a Transcendentalist, but I do not know who invented the name or first applied it.

The people here do not dispute on religious creeds; they are too busy. They work together, dine and sup together year in and year out in intimate social relation, and do not either have angry disputes, or quarrels about creeds or anything else. On the contrary, I am much surprised at the earnest inquiry that is often made into the beliefs of others, or rather into the groundwork or foundation from which the churches sprung which have different tenets from their own.

But the majority are Unitarian in their belief. Mr. Ripley, Mr. Dwight, Mr. Dana and Mr. Cabot, with a majority of the ladies, lean that way. Dr. Lazarus and his handsome sister are of or from the Jewish faith, whilst Mr. Hastings leans towards Romanism and Jean Pallisse is Catholic; and by the way, I never until I came here had any sympathy with the symbols of that church, but the intelligent persons by whom I have been surrounded have explained the great beauty of them to me—persons who are not and never can be Romanists any more than myself. Dr. Lazarus has posted me on the Jewish symbols, and Fanny M. and her mother have brought forward the great beauty of the Swedenborgian doctrines.

All Mr. Ripleys's writings on social subjects breathe a religious air. It is true they are not creedal, but his idea is that every act of life should be from a true and earnest spirit, and that this is the substance of all creeds; and strange to say to you, who believe that Associations like ours have a levelling effect, those who have their faiths fixed, say, "I think more of the symbols of my church than ever, since I came here."

"I am a Jew, but a liberal, understanding Jew," says one.

"I am a Catholic, but I am a liberalized Catholic," says another.

"I am a Swedenborgian, but my belief liberates me from the crudities of
Swedenborg," say others.

"I look from the centre outward as never before. We all see how the forms of our churches were intended for good, and we all see how many of them have been prostituted. When I go from here I shall respect your forms and ceremonies because you have taught me the meanings of them."

Is this definite enough for a hasty answer? The lesson I have most taken to heart is that by examining with respect the many different faiths, we gain a higher idea of a Being who has an exhaustless variety in his attributes.

As ever yours,

C. J. THOMAS.