CHAPTER EIGHTH.
'O that the newspapers had called me slave, coward, fool, or what it pleased their sweet voices to name
me, and I had attained not death but life!'
Carlyle's 'Past And Present.'
It must not be supposed that the Meadow-Farmers gained their position without other struggle than the labor of arranging and cultivating their domain. Fortunately for them they had enemies, or rather opponents, who talked against them and wrote against them, and by these means compelled them to look carefully to their own principles. These attacks taught them their own strength, and gave steadiness and manliness to their efforts. The strong ship never sails so steadily as when she stems an opposing current.
A man can hardly introduce a new kind of plough upon his farm, without being called upon for his reasons; much less can a body of men start a new project of society, unquestioned and unnoticed. Although every freeman may plough and reap as he please, yet may I call him to account for the implied slander which he utters upon the usual and common plough of the country, by throwing it aside and adopting a new one. So when men promulge new doctrines of society, and establish new forms of business and domestic economy, may we not rightfully question them closely, for their attempt to unsettle the established order of things, which they virtually do by such a course? For by no means is it true, that men have the right—the moral right—to plunge recklessly against old institutions and habits, with no other reason than that such is their pleasure. Such crusades may be more safely allowed in monarchical countries, whose heavy and ponderous forms are little moved by them; but in a country where public sentiment is law and government much more than the statute-book, it is not only our right but our duty to watch narrowly every innovation, and to question, with a voice of authority, him who comes to remove the old landmarks planted by our fathers.
This curious and, as it is called, meddlesome spirit, which Americans show in the affairs of their neighbors, is in fact the instinct of self-preservation in our people. It is a better habit than an idle curiosity, however it may be denominated. It matters little who comes or goes, or what the habits and opinions, of people who live in countries where a military power is ever ready to support the established authority of the land. Not so with us. We require no passports in passing from village to village, from state to state; every man is free to move as he pleases; but there is constantly over every man a jealous scrutiny, and not so much over his personal movements, as over the most important part of him, his opinions and habits. Hence the thousand staring eyes which greet every stranger as he passes through our villages and towns. Is any one desirous of being conspicuous among his fellow men, he has only to quietly take up his abode in any of our country towns; preserve a mysterious silence respecting his business; say no more than is absolutely necessary for his wants, and in a week's time he will become the theme of every tea-table in the neighborhood; and should he incline to go to meeting on the Sabbath, he will find that he will more than equally divide attention with the preacher. As we live and move and have our being as a nation by the action of this public sentiment, is it not a necessary consequence that we are curious and meddlesome, and often annoying, toward those who come among us to see the strange anomaly, a self-governed people? And we ask such persons seriously, if, having considered the case, our prying, Yankee questioning is a proper subject of their ridicule?
For the same reason, too, all secret societies are deemed dangerous to the community, and our people will not endure them because they are foreign to the character of our government. And how are they foreign, it is asked? Each voter being a part of the government, he wants all the facts of the country before him in order to form his opinion, which he cannot have if secret societies exist. In a despotism the power being in one head, that head alone has need of the facts we refer to; the governed have no interest except to obey, no duty but to submit. To refer to an almost forgotten question, the rights of Free Masons, the opposition and abuse they received was far less against them as Masons, than as asking for protection and privilege, without being willing to yield any thing to that public sentiment which they were opposing by their very existence as a secret society.
Let us draw here one other inference from what has been said, and then to work: a free and untrammeled press is as essential to a free government as air is to life. If the art of printing had been known by the ancient republics they might still have existed. And, moreover, we may demand, as a right, to know any and all of the affairs of others which may, by possibility, act upon this public trust, of which each man is part keeper. And the advantage of this supervision is mutual, for it is well for every one to know that the whole country has an interest in what he does, in his acts, his habits, and especially in his opinions.
Rufus Gilbert courted this scrutiny, and took pains to open his views to all who visited him; but he became unpopular at first with the church in his neighborhood, because he did not come under its wing and ask its influence—an influence always to be obtained by paying for it. Both political parties called him a fool and fanatic, because he did not immediately set down his political opinions and promise his vote for or against men he had never seen or heard of before.
To the Whig committee-man who called to ask his support for that party, he propounded first the question, 'Is your candidate a temperance man?'
'Really, Sir, we have little to do with such narrow questions; I can't answer you.'
'Is he for or against slavery?' next proposed Rufus.
'That, too, is beyond my instructions.'
'What then, may I ask,' said Rufus, 'are the grounds upon which you ask my vote for your candidate?'
'Grounds, Sir!—zounds!' said the emissary, looking about for a convenient stump, 'grounds, did you say? Sir, he is a Whig; he was born a Whig; he has lived a Whig, and will die a Whig. What more can you ask? He never opposes his party; he is a man we can rely upon; we know where to find him; he is a man to stick to the party, if the party go to the d—l; and that's what I call being a patriot.'
A little ruder in speech, but quite as honest in his views, was the friend of the opposing party, who called to solicit the name of Mr. Gilbert on his paper, whose inquiries respecting the opinions of the candidate upon what he conceived to be vital questions, namely, temperance and slavery, he answered thus:
'I'll tell you what, friend, you're a stranger to me and I'm a stranger to you, but I have heard that you are a friend to the poor; now if such be the case, you hate the Whigs, you hate the rich, the aristocrats that they be; this is as natural as for hens to cackle. Now we don't meddle with temperance, because some of our men can only be brought forward by the drink; we don't touch slavery, because, you see old Hickory may own slaves himself. These are, in polite way of talking, subjects for the straddle. The fence, Sir, the fence, is our only and our tee-total safety on these p'ints.'
'But,' said Rufus, 'because I am a friend to the poor, how does it follow that I must hate the rich? I must love all men, for every man is my brother. I shall not vote at all at the coming election, for I have not had time to inform myself as to the respective merits of the men that are up.'
'That's right, Sir, I must confess,' said the young man, with an entirely different tone and manner, for he was the son of an honest man, and had had early instruction in his youth; 'that's right; I respect you, Mr. Gilbert; it's just what father said; and I must tell you, I've seen better days than getting a dollar a day for crying 'Hurrah for old Hickory!' So, re-cocking his hat and falling again into the part he was paid for playing, off he rode.
'A pretty fellow this,' said the Whigs, 'to show no colors; I'll bet a cow he will sneak in and vote for Hickory. What right has he to come into our county and play dark till the game turns? We'll fix him!'
'Did you try to buy him?' said the Jackson men to their emissary.
'No; I didn't dare do it; I'll wager drinks all round he is not to be bought.'
'This is a noble fellow,' sighed the Whig candidate himself, when he heard what Rufus had said; 'I must seek him out; a man after my own heart. Would to God I were free to act myself! Oh! this slavery of party; this slavery of the soul! How much meaner and baser is it than any bonds of the body!'
'Saddle me a horse,' said the other candidate; 'I'll ride over and promise him he shall be post-master.'
'That's promised three times already,' said some one; 'promise him the judge of probate, for that's only promised twice.'
'Ah! that will do.' But Rufus was proof against promises and bribes.
Providence smiled upon the labors of the band, in a productive harvest, the first year of their location. The land proved even better than they expected. Uninterrupted health, the result of their simple and regular habits, enabled them to enjoy life as they had never done before. And what was it gave such a spring to their labors? They each had a personal interest in the crops. If profits accrued, they were to gain by them; if losses occurred, they were to lose by them. But better than this, they all lived in an elevated atmosphere. Subjects of deep interest employed their hours of rest and refreshment. They were living in the school of love and brotherly kindness. No rivalry excited their passions; no competition embittered their intercourse; every act of each one was felt to be the act of all; and they were as much interested in the success of each other as of themselves. It is astonishing how one earnest mind may spread its influence over masses of men, and give tone and harmony to the most discordant elements. Such was the influence of Rufus; and hardly less that of Philip. The young farmers caught the spirit of their discussions, and as they became informed in their minds, they began to take part in their animated debates. This made their hours of rest seasons of real improvement, and they became as much concerned for their intellectual harvest as for the crops on the soil. Their evenings were not spent listlessly in smoking and lolling about on benches, drinking cider and picking their teeth with straws, as many farmers spend them, but in the library, where one read aloud for the benefit of all, or in the general discussion of some topic of sufficient importance to cause them to forget their bodily fatigues. And thus are we kindly constituted by nature; study is rest from bodily labor, and bodily labor is rest from study. It has been proved by experience that one man may more easily do the intellectual and physical labor of two men, than the two can do it separately. The student without exercise becomes the invalid or the madman, and the laborer, without thought and intellectual culture, becomes a brute.
With the majority of our farmers money-getting is the prevailing motive. Are they temperate, it is out of regard to their health and pocket. If they are honest, it is often more a matter of business and credit than of virtue. Can it be denied that the farmer's standard is too low? Does he live for his soul, his mind; to make life a scene of noble progression in knowledge and virtue? Is he not generally more anxious to enlarge his farm than to expand his intellect? Does he not sneer at learning, and glory in his coarseness? Would that he might try the true life; keep up the balance of his powers; make his body the servant of his soul; and look toward knowledge and virtue as the destiny of his being!
Rufus Gilbert had arrived at that point of attainment. He really and sincerely valued money only as a means, an unusual refinement indeed; and this principle he had instilled into the hearts of all his disciples, so that they were elevated beings, and had high views of the object of life. No man who has been by circumstances 'born again' to this new being, ever can go back to the low aims and filthy pursuits of party ambition, or heap up money for money's sake. 'To him that hath shall be given;' such men are always improving, always advancing; they cannot help it. 'From him that hath not, shall be taken away even that which he hath;' such men are always retrograding, sinking, falling; they too cannot help it.
As the reader must by this time begin to feel some interest in the financial state of the Meadow-Farm, let us look in upon them at the end of the third year of their experiment. The writer will give the statement as it was given to him, and as nearly as may be in the same words.
'Our original purchase cost five thousand dollars, and consisted of five hundred acres of land, mostly in a wild state. The expense of the house, furniture, and stock, was about two thousand dollars more, for we began with the smallest amount practicable. We numbered at the outset fourteen souls, among whom were seven able-bodied young men, ready to endure hardships and work their way wherever I should lead them. Four of the remaining were women and three were children. The first year was spent in clearing enough land to secure us against want in the way of corn, and potatoes, and wheat; and contrary to my own fears, at the end of it we were able to pay the interest on our borrowed capital, beside having greatly improved our farm. The second year was still more fortunate. We had admitted five new hands, four of whom were able-bodied men and good farmers; so that we were strong in force. The other was a good tailoress whose services we began to need. Mechanics of all sorts flocked in upon us, many of whom we could not receive. At the close of the third year, now, our affairs stand thus:
'Our farm with the buildings we have erected, is estimated at, and taxed for, eight thousand dollars. We have paid the two thousand dollars borrowed capital, and do not owe a farthing. We have three hundred sheep, and fifty head of cattle and horses. We have a good library; are all well clothed and fed. Some are richer than others, in proportion to the time they have been with us. We now number twenty-five persons, including my own two children, one an infant. John Stewart considers he has earned six hundred dollars toward the thousand which is the condition of his possessing before he can claim the hand of Clara Welton. Not that I think it necessary a young man should possess a fortune before he marries. I think with Cobbett upon this point, that the sooner a young man marries the better for him, if he has good and industrious habits; but we thought it necessary to test the case with John, as he had the reputation of being an odd fellow, and we thought while he was earning the specified amount, we could do it to our satisfaction.
'But, Sir, the best wealth we have, in my opinion, is the amount of good habits of mind and body among us. Our young farmers are chemists and botanists. We have poets, musicians, and painters among us. We cultivate the sciences as well as the land. Our wealth is in our heads and hearts, as well as something in our pockets. As to myself, I have lost nothing, but on the contrary have received a better interest on my share of the investment than I could have received in any fair business. Thus you see what united labor can accomplish; in three years we have converted three thousand dollars into eight thousand. Our profits in happiness and improvement cannot be estimated in money.'
Now although much was said and written against this new-fangled scheme of Meadow-Farm, when the public saw how successful and happy were the members, what peace and harmony reigned among them, and more than all, how much money they were making, the tide began to turn the other way. Parents gave the best evidence of what they thought of it, by striving to get their children received into Philip Welton's school. The few boys placed at first under his charge had made such improvement, not only in their studies but in their dispositions, living in an atmosphere of love and kindness, that the school began to be very popular, and many pupils were refused for want of room. Let us look in of a summer morning, at the library, and see the charms the place had for the youth. It was a large and spacious room, kept studiously clean. Books were arranged around upon the walls; historical pictures were seen here and there. The bust of Washington, which, though never so badly executed, always tells us of firmness and virtue, patriotism and heroism, stood conspicuously fronting the entrance; that of Franklin, the true man and republican, the wise man and the practical man, stood near it. Flowers were placed here and there upon the tables. There was no master's desk, no pedagogical throne, the sceptre a ferula. All formality was banished from the place, and they found their seats as suited their taste and convenience. They came and went as in the order of a well-conducted reading-room, without restraint, and looked like those who came to seek knowledge, rather than like the pupils of most schools, whose anxious faces seem to say, 'When will it be my turn to be crammed?' 'How long will it be before it will be time to leave this prison?'
Or listen to the words of the teacher as he meets his pupils in the morning, and cordially takes each one by the hand, and thus removes all feeling of distance and reserve between himself and his scholars. 'My dear children, our law is love; see, it is written yonder,' pointing to an inscription on the wall, 'God is love;' 'let us to-day strive to obey this law in our thoughts and actions. It is our first duty to be good, and then, if we can, to be learned and honorable, and graceful and happy. You have collected here to learn history, and language, and useful sciences; but all these will avail you nothing, unless you first learn to govern your passions, and obey your conscience, and try to be like Christ, in preferring to bear and suffer every thing rather than commit sin. This is the enemy of happiness; the only evil in the world; for a good man cannot be unhappy. Let us, before we do any thing else, ask our Father to assist us in forming this character.'
The pupils all kneel devoutly; they all pray mentally. It is no hurried form of prayer, run through without preparation, and which robs the young of respect for devotional exercises. They are all impressed by the service, and the great idea that they will be assisted in whatever they purely undertake, gives encouragement and hope to their hearts. The words, the manner, the confidence of their teacher, lift the pupils into an elevated frame of mind, and they are ashamed, or rather forget, to do wrong, so wholly are they occupied with that which is good.
In our ambition for a high intellectual training for our youth, is there not danger that we may forget that moral and spiritual discipline, without which learning and education are a curse? Better is it that the child remain untaught in human learning, and be left to the influences and teachings of nature, than to be so engaged in the works and inventions and plans of man, that he rarely thinks of or regards the great purpose for which he was born, and received a living soul.
We are so bigoted and sectarian, that religious instruction is excluded from our common schools, for fear some sect should get the advantage of the others. We know it is allowed to teach the great principles of morality and religion, the existence of a God, and a future state of rewards and punishments; but these a child gets any where in a Christian land; he drinks them in with his mother's milk. But what folly it is to suppose that the teacher can help giving the bias of his own mind to the children, in teaching even the general principles of religion! He is aware himself that he cannot, and so he abstains from the subject altogether, or alludes to it in such a manner that it would be better let alone. At the present time no wonder there is no reverence in the young. The name and laws of God are not taught as the first and most important lessons in our common schools.
When Walter Scott was asked how he educated his sons, he said, 'he taught them to ride and to speak the truth;' showing the high value he placed upon moral and physical training, and not even noticing their intellectual pursuits. For he undoubtedly meant to convey the idea that so good principles are established in the hearts of the young, and their physical health properly cared for, there is but little fear that they will be deficient in those elevated studies whose tendency is so kindred with virtue, and whose essence is the great immutable truths of creation. Seek first the kingdom of heaven, and every thing shall be added unto you; even knowledge and power.