My Friends at Brook Farm | Page 7

gave in his
testimony with those who in The Dial and through other agencies were
propagating the new philosophy. His engagements with others were
such that he could not break away at the time to put these novel ideas to
the test of actual experiment but no doubt he thought it wise and well to
give his children an early initiation into the new life that was to
regenerate the world.
Dr. Ripley was, as said, the leader of the Transcendental coterie and he
had all the vitalizing enthusiasm that a leader must necessarily possess.
He was a solidly built man of medium height with brown hair and
beard and the kindest eyes in the world. He was a Unitarian clergyman,
a scholar learned in all the learning of the Egyptians and all the other
learned peoples of every age and clime, and a gentleman of the most
engagingly courteous address; his good manners rested on bed rock
foundations, too, and could not be corrupted by evil communications. I
saw him more than once in straits harsh enough to try the patience of a
saint, and noted with surprised admiration that his perfect poise was not
in the least disturbed.
It was Dr. Ripley who, having the courage of his convictions, bravely
suggested putting in practice the principles he and his Transcendental
friends advocated in theory. "We talk well," he said, in effect, "why not
try to do the thing which we say?" And he did. With a few of these
friends, like-minded, he went out to West Roxbury; six miles from

Boston, and bought a farm of 200 acres. Being unusually bright folk,
remarkably intelligent, highly educated and, as may be said, brilliantly
enlightened, they succeeded, almost beyond belief, in making a
woefully bad bargain. I do not know how much they paid for the land
but whatever the price it was too high. The property was picturesque to
look at but its best herbage was sheep-sorrel. Next the brook, which
gave the name, Brook Farm, there was a fair bit of meadow, with a
rounded hill called the Knoll rising sharply on the north. The land
rolled unevenly on, one-eighth of a mile or so, to higher ground and
then fell off again to a level plateau covered with pine woods, beyond
which were two or three fields of plow-land. The soil was thin, sandy
where it was not rocky, and rocky where it was not sandy. It was a poor
place, indeed, and had been poorly farmed until it was as lean as
Pharaoh's second herd of kine. It speaks well for these unsophisticated
philosophers that in four years they made this desert to rejoice and
blossom as the rose; cultivating the finest market gardens and
flower-gardens in Roxbury, planting orchards and vineyards, and
growing pasturage for a profitable dairy.
If the amateur farmers were dismayed on finding what a hard row they
had to hoe on this impoverished estate, they never complained, so far as
I have heard, but resolutely set about the work they had to do. They
came out to try a certain social experiment; an experiment in living a
higher kind of life than that of their day and generation, resting on the
faith that such a life can be lived here and now as well as heretofore in
the legendary "Golden Age" of the past, or as hereafter in the "good
time coming" of the future. The one purpose they entertained was to
dwell together in unity "near to the heart of nature," a phrase attributed
to Margaret Fuller. All other considerations, whether of hardship, or
bad beginnings or disappointments were but secondary if they could
succeed in demonstrating the practicability of their high ideals.
Perhaps it is not a matter of much interest to the present generation but
to us it has always seemed that these Brook Farmers deserve to be
favorably remembered. They were not martyrs, being, on the contrary,
an unusually joyous and happy company, but, all the same, they gave
the best of their lives to the service of humanity. They honestly and

earnestly believed they could demonstrate the practicability of their
theories, to the advantage of their fellow-beings, and they faithfully
tried to accomplish that purpose. If the Pilgrims of Plymouth deserve
honor for unselfish devotion to religious reform, why should not the
Brook Farm pioneers of social reform receive correspondingly suitable
recognition. It is true they did not immediately attain the ends they
sought but neither did the Pilgrims; and the end is not yet.
It should be said that not all the Transcendentalists joined Doctor
Ripley in his Utopian undertaking. Ralph Waldo Emerson for example
was not of our company. Indeed, he was not of any company. An
inspiring preacher he gained early fame as a pulpit