As one reviews the literature of this stormy period, two facts stand out prominently: first, that the turmoil of reform was reflected in prose and poetry; second, that the enduring literary works were seldom influenced by the problems that kept men's minds in continual agitation. A third fact, which reflection renders more significant, is that the great writers of the period traced their ancestry back to the founders of America, and that the remembrance of their ancestors, who had worked and fought together to establish this nation, held them steadfast in the national spirit.
Of the minor writings we may say, in general, that they dealt with the surface of things, and that they seem now of little consequence. The major writings, undisturbed by temporary affairs, dealt with the moral and spiritual ideals which America has followed from the beginning; and these writings gain steadily in interest as the years go by. So the literature of the period may be likened to a great river; its surface is broken by waves or lashed by tempests, but just beneath the turmoil the water moves quietly, steadily onward to the sea.
To illustrate the matter: the antislavery movement, which at one time monopolized public attention, had its poet in Whittier and its novelist in Mrs. Stowe; but the present reader is more interested in works of these writers which had nothing to do with slavery or political issues. Occasionally Lowell, as in his "Commemoration Ode," rises to national heights and sees the eternal ideal hidden in the passing event; but the bulk of his work inspired by the reform movement has lost its power with the present generation. Longfellow's verses on slavery are of so little moment that they are often omitted from collections of his works. Whittier's are vigorous and sincere, but they are partisan and cannot endure. He himself lived to regret some of them. In numerous collections of the southern poetry of the period one finds here and there an exquisite reflection of our common joy or sorrow, and these are permanent; but a large part of the verse is doomed, simply because it appeals to a sectional rather than to a general interest. Lanier, greatest of southern poets, is a splendid exception. Unlike Whittier, who in his early days fought valiantly with the pen, Lanier did all his fighting with the sword; his pen was sacred to poetry and to humanity. In consequence he never strikes a false or partisan note, and his poetry grows steadily more precious to the entire nation.
Closely associated with the political was a profound mental or spiritual agitation, which the historian notes with interest because of its influence on all subsequent American literature. It showed itself, first, in a religious awakening under the leadership of Channing and Bushnell. Next it appeared in philanthropic guise: in the antislavery campaign, in the temperance reform, in the universal peace movement led by Elihu Burritt, and in the many other plans for the regeneration of human society which are suggested by Emerson's "New England Reformers." Then was the heyday of the lyceum and the lecturer; every cause had its enthusiastic following, every town its lecture course; and in a thousand halls throughout the country audiences gathered eagerly to hear the latest poet, prophet, or preacher of new gospels.
As a result of all this agitation, many believed that the old order was about to change; and in anticipation of the millennium there appeared numerous communistic societies, that is, companies of persons who sought either to reform the world or to escape its evils by living and working together in a kind of brotherhood.
The most famous of these phalanxes or phalansteries, as they
were called, was Brook Farm, which was organized (1841) by
George Ripley, and which numbered Hawthorne,
Curtis and Dana among its hundred and fifty members.
Emerson, Thoreau, Margaret Fuller, Channing, Greeley
and many other notable persons were interested in the
community, and sent frequent contributions to The Dial ,
which was the famous literary organ of the Brook
Farmers. The members worked intermittently on their
large farm in Roxbury (now a part of Boston) and their
object was, in their own words, "to live in all the
faculties of the soul." More specifically, they aimed
to live close to nature, to dignify manual labor, to
cultivate the spiritual side of life, and to help every
member to be free, fearless,
A fire which consumed the main buildings in 1846 practically ended the community, but not until it had made a deep impression on American life and thought. Thousands of visitors came every year to visit Brook Farm; unnumbered references to it are found in the annals of the period; and a considerable body of literature has since appeared in memory of the heroic experiment. Brook Farm and Codman's Brook Farm Memories . Hawthorne's Blithedale Romance was occasioned by his experience as a member of the community. He was not sympathetic, however, and his motive in joining was personal rather than philanthropic. His book should be read simply as a romance, and not as a portrayal of Brook Farm.") ?>
Besides Brook Farm, more than thirty other communities were established, some of which are still in existence. Utopia . In the eighteenth century there were several socialistic communities in Europe; and at least one, the Shakers, appeared in America before the Revolution. The sudden increase in the number here was due largely to the fact that the socialistic philosophy of Fourier was advocated by Greeley, Dana and many other Americans of influence. \"Fourierism\" was the name commonly used to designate the movement.") ?> In his essay on Thoreau (1865) Lowell ridicules the whole movement, and though his criticism is superficial, it contains a grain of truth. The aim of all these communities, to coöperate and to know the joy and freedom of labor, has inspired men for ages, and will continue to inspire them until the aim is achieved. But unfortunately the age was too much influenced by agitators, and these communities soon attracted a host of zealots who made havoc of the enterprise. They had plenty of enthusiasm, but they lacked humor, balance, practical sense, and their vagaries brought ridicule upon an experiment which had originated in a noble ideal. Like the reformers in other fields during this period, they insisted upon an immediate transformation of human society; and their effort to hurry the world on its slow, upward way reminds us of Dr. Johnson's famous parody:
Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat.
The unrest of the age, its passion for reform, its determination to win complete spiritual freedom, are all epitomized in the philosophic movement known as transcendentalism. There is a large literature on the subject, and we cannot here go deeply into it. We shall note only two facts: that transcendentalism exercised a strong, elevating influence on American life and letters; and that it was not a New England product, as is commonly alleged, but was simply the westward extension of a general European movement.
At the root of transcendentalism, as it appeared here in 1836, were three elements: the first, political or democratic; the second, literary or romantic; and the third, ideal or philosophic. The movement began, undoubtedly, at the time when the whole civilized world was shaken by the American and French Revolutions. For a full half century following these historic earthquakes European countries were in a state of political upheaval, and the object of every agitation was to secure greater liberty for the masses of common men. This democratic movement in politics was immediately followed by the romantic awakening in literature (which glorified and idealized plain humanity) and by a new philosophy of idealism which sought to free man's mind from error, as the French Revolution had freed his body from tyranny. Goethe reflects the unrest of the whole civilized world at the beginning of the nineteenth century in the character of Faust, who longs for the "Beyond," that is, to escape from the slavery of the material world and to merge his life in the unseen, eternal forces that rule the universe.
All these mighty, earlier movements entered into what
is known, inaccurately, as New England transcendentalism. The
last word has never been defined, but we shall
understand it readily if we recall the system of thought
which it supplanted. The philosophy of the eighteenth
century was, as a rule, skeptical and materialistic;
it was concerned with this world chiefly; it was
doubtful of God and even of the human soul; it alleged
that all knowledge and all
ideas depend solely upon matter and sense, upon what we
can see and touch. In this it followed out the theory
of the English philosopher Locke, who taught that the
mind is essentially a tabula rasa , a blank sheet, on
which knowledge is inscribed only by experience. The
idealists of the nineteenth century were radically
opposed to such a view of man and of the universe. They
taught that the human mind has a knowledge of its own,
independent of the senses or of the material world;
that certain
This new philosophy (which was new only in name) took
root at first in New England; and from there it spread
westward and southward till it
influenced a large part of the country,
partly by means of literature, partly through
the lyceum, which was then, like the present Woman's
Club, a center of culture in almost every large town.
The first transcendental club, or "Symposium," was
formed in Boston (1836) and numbered among its members
Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne, Channing, James Freeman
Clarke, Margaret Fuller, Jones Very the mystic poet,
Orestes Brownson the theologian, Bancroft the
historian, Theodore Parker the radical preacher, Cranch
the artist, Ripley the founder of Brook Farm, Convers
Francis the
Like the earlier idealism of the Puritan,
transcendentalism aimed first to make man upright, and
then to make him free in mind as well as in body.
Whenever it appeared in literature it had two subjects,
nature and man; the one being regarded as an open book
of the Lord; the other, not as a poor creature of the
senses, but as an immortal being and child of the Most
High. These two fundamental
So far transcendentalism was excellent, and America gave it hearty welcome. Unfortunately it had another and weaker side, and by this the whole movement is often judged. Two elements contributed to bring it into disrepute. The first, which was inherent in transcendentalism as a system of thought, related to the doctrine of innate ideas. Because a man may have knowledge which transcends experience, shallow minds jumped to the conclusion that experience was unnecessary. Because an individual may be in touch with the divine source of knowledge, enthusiasts felt free to disregard the saints and sages. Because the Present offers its inspiration with its duty, even Emerson felt free to ignore the Past, where "dwells that silent majority whose experience guides our action and whose wisdom shapes our thought in spite of ourselves." It was inevitable, therefore, that this doctrine, like every other which fails to give due weight to the treasured wisdom and experience of the race, should tend to extremes and vagaries.
The second disruptive element was the same spirit of agitation that troubled our politics. Just as state problems of the hour were used by extremists to keep the country in a turmoil, so the new philosophy was demoralized by zealots. Every unbalanced enthusiast took it up; visionaries snatched leadership away from the wise and prudent, and calling themselves "Apostles of Newness" went forth to preach the gospel of individualism, proclaiming that every man was his own and only source of wisdom and authority:
1 footnote 1 From Emerson, "The Informing Spirit," an introduction to the essay on History.
Emerson describes one of their conventions as made up of "madmen, mad women, men with beards, Dunkers, Muggletonians, Come-outers, Groaners, Agrarians, Abolitionists . . . and philosophers." The classification is vague, but the impression is distinct that no order will proceed from such chaos. By such men was transcendentalism judged, though in truth the new philosophy was not responsible for them. They were a product of the age; they belonged to the army of reformers that then had a mission, as Lowell said, "to attend to everybody else's business," and they seized upon transcendentalism as a new means of agitation.
The folly of such reformers, the impractical character
of their communistic societies, the eccentricities of
Alcott
(1799–1888) should
be read as a commentary on the transcendental movement.
He is now remembered chiefly through his daughter,
Louisa M. Alcott, whose Little Women and other
\"juveniles\" have been widely read, and are still
deservedly popular.") ?>
and other
We have noted the significant
fact that, while minor writers of this period were
absorbed in questions of the hour, the major writers
stood apart, like Moses on the hill of Rephidim,
upholding the ideals which America has followed since
the days of Pilgrim and Cavalier, and which seem to
grow younger and ever more lovely with the passing
centuries. Another fact worthy of attention is that our
literary field was immensely broadened after 1840 by
the exploration of oriental and European libraries. The
old mystic books of India, the imaginative splendor of
Persian poetry, the primal vigor of Scandinavian epics,
the romance and sentiment of German, French, Spanish
and Italian
Viewed as a national product, the major literature of the age shows four common characteristics: (1) The harmony with nature, which appeared in our first national poetry, is here deepened and spiritualized. It becomes mystic also, especially in the verse of Emerson and Whitman, showing the influence of oriental literature. (2) The national spirit and an intense loyalty to the nation's flag are everywhere in evidence, strengthened by the war; and though historians still separate our writers into eastern and southern and western "schools," the simple fact is that the only books worth considering are those which ignore such divisions and appeal to the whole American people. (3) A strong moral tendency, which manifested itself in our first Colonial writers, here reaches a climax. Almost every important book of this period, whether a novel of Hawthorne or an idyl of Longfellow, aimed not simply to give pleasure but to bring a message to men; and the interest of story or poem generally centered about a moral problem and its solution. With the exception of Whitman, the major poets of this period were, like the Victorian poets in England, essentially teachers of the nation, and the moral purity of their lives emphasized their doctrine. The moral aim and endeavor of practically all our American writers may be epitomized in two lines of Chaucer's Country Parson:
(4) In contrast with preceding periods and with the age
in which we live, the middle of the nineteenth century
belongs emphatically to the poets; and this is more
remarkable in view of the fact that the genius of
America had, up to that time, appeared practical and
prosaic. Longfellow, Emerson, Whittier, Lowell, Holmes,
Lanier,