“Peddler, schoolmaster, philosopher” is what his latest biographer, Mr. Frank Sanborn, calls A. Bronson Alcott, who is the subject of two volumes by two collaborating hands. Mr. Sanborn’s associate in the preparation of this book is Dr. W. T. Harris, U. S. Commissioner of Education, who writes more of the philosophy than the personality of Mr. Alcott.
In the writings of his daughter, the late Louisa M. Alcott, we get as vivid an impression of Bronson Alcott as can be gained from any other source. Indeed, from her we discover the selfish nature of the man; for who shall say that it is not selfish to sacrifice one’s family to a theory? Miss Alcott loved her father, and doubtless believed in him; but when she writes of her mother’s patient suffering, we realize what that mother’s life and the life of her children must have been, with nothing more substantial to eat, drink and clothe themselves withal than their father’s vagaries. Carlyle was a cynic without doubt, but a cynic often has a happy faculty of description, and he described “the good Alcott “aptly,” with his long, lean face and figure, with his grey worn temples and mild radiant eyes; all bent on saving the world by a return to acorns and the golden age.” Alcott was born a theorist and a dreamer; and so are many men, but when they realize that the battle of life must be fought with stronger weapons they lay aside their theories and dreams and gird their loins for the fray. That Alcott was content to peddle tinware through the South for so long, that he thought to maintain his family as a day-laborer, shows a man as unpractical as Thoreau; but Thoreau did not have a wife and four children depending upon him for bread. As other people’s husbands and fathers, such men as Alcott are extremely picturesque, but one would rather not have them in one’s own family. In all her years of trial Mrs. Alcott never lost faith in her hus band or allowed him to know of the terrible disappointments she suffered by his repeated failures as a bread-winner.
Amos Bronson Alcott was born in the Connecticut town of Wolcott in 1799. He did not enjoy the advantages of a college education; he studied and read, however, in every spare hour and minute, even as a barefoot boy taking his books afield with him. The time he would naturally have passed at college he spent in traveling through the South as a peddler, and he did not find the business disagreeable. Writing to his parents he says:
“For my part, I can make peddling in Virginia as respectable as any other business. I take much pleasure in traveling, and in conversing with the Virginians—observing their different habits, manners, customs, etc.; and I am conscious that it is of great advantage to me in many points of view. Yes, dear parents, we make the business not only respectable but lucrative; and so long as mankind are unprejudiced against industry, perseverance, honesty and integrity, they will consider the person with those qualities on his side, let him pursue whatever calling he may. I say that persons strictly adhering to those principles will be respected by them, however humiliated and contemptible he may appear to the silken sons of pride and dissipation.”
Alcott’s intention was to teach, but he could find no opening, and as he was anxious to make money he stuck to peddling. With all his philosophy he was not unlike other young men of his age. He says in his diary:
“I purchase a costly suit of clothes, the best in Broadway, and wear the same, to the surprise of my townspeople and the chagrin of my father and my cousin William, to Spindle Hill, where I arrive in July. Read Thomson’s ‘Seasons’ and journalize in the spirit of this period of gayety and extravagance. Now begin to write my name ‘Alcott’ instead of ‘Alcox,’ as my father wrote his; the old spelling being ‘Alcock,’ and my grandfather wrote, and some of my uncles still.”
At last Alcott gave up peddling and went to school-teaching, moving from place to place as openings seemed to occur. His most famous school was the Temple School in Boston, in which Margaret Fuller and Elizabeth Peabody were at different times associated with him. Mr. Alcott’s school was conducted upon new and original plans, and doubtless would have succeeded if some of the Transcendental doctrines with which he inoculated his pupils had not been unfavorably received by the press. True, Mr. Emerson came out boldly as his champion; but it was of no use, and the school dwindled from thirty pupils to five, and failed. Then it was that, broken in spirit and bankrupt in pocket, Mr. Alcott took his little family under his wing and moved out to Concord, so as to be near his stanchest friend—Emerson—who wrote in his defence to the Boston Courier:
“Mr. Alcott has given proof, in the beautiful introduction to this work, as all who have read it know, of a strong mind and pure heart. A practical teacher, he has dedicated for years his rare gifts to the science of education. These conversations contain abundant evidence of extraordinary thought, either in the teacher, or the pupils, or in both. He aims to make children think, and, in every question of a moral nature, to send them back on themselves for an answer. He aims to show children something holy in their own consciousness; thereby to make them really reverent, and to make the New Testament a living book to them.”
To this Mr. Sanborn adds:
“Up to this time Bronson Alcott and his brother had paid their father $245 as the net earnings of their Virginia trade; but now the well-clad youth had come home in debt, having been ill, and also having used the money that should have paid for his Virginia goods in buying new clothes at New York. In the following September his father was compelled to endorse his son’s note ‘to F. T. Allyn, of Norfolk, for $270, due him for goods. The summer was spent in frivolous pursuits at Wolcott—displaying the fine wardrobe and paying court to the maidens of that rural neighborhood.”
Although an Abolitionist, Alcott admired the Southerners as individuals. Writing to his cousin William in 1820 he said:
“Hospitality is a distinguishing trait of the Virginia people, rich or poor; and their polished manners and agreeable conversation ingratiate the traveler at once in their favor. The planters are an educated class, gentlemen in the best sense of the word. I pass many an evening at their hospitable homes.”
It was in answer to the following letter from Emerson that Alcott decided to make Concord his home:
“I grieve to hear you have been sick and are still feeble. I was in town day before yesterday, but with such imperative errands as would not permit my visiting you. Is the school suspended? In that case what better can you do than come out here instantly to spend fortnight with me? My wife is a capital nurse and joyfully offers her service. We have no company, and Concord is Lethe’s fat wharf for lounging; and lounging is the first medicine for such as you. If you will come here and get well, we will agree on hours of sitting together and apart, and nobody shall be allowed to annoy you. In the hope that you will, I add nothing,”
Through the friendly offices of Mr. Emerson, Mr. Alcott was enabled to make a visit to England, where he hoped to meet with more appreciation than at home. He was, however, disappointed in this longing. Carlyle was civil to him, as he bore a letter from Emerson; but his visit was not very satisfactory. This is one of the sage’s letters to Alcott:
MY DEAR SIR: I am very sorry to have been out the other day when you called again. I suppose it is my last chance of seeing you in England. You leave me, too, as an incorrigible heretic and infidel; which verily I am not, yet must be content to seem for the present! Well, I will wish you a right pleasant reunion with your native friends, with those whom you know better than you do me. To hear that your scheme of life prospers to the utmost possible extent will, you may depend upon it, be always happy news to me. Though not precisely my church, I do reckon it a branch of the true Church, very worthy to spread and root itself according to its power in a world so overgrown with falsity and jungle as ours is. * * * I was absent in Suffolk when your invitation to the Conference reached me. I can add no more but that sad word, adieu! May all good Powers watch over you, guide you well, and ever better towards your true aim I remain always yours very sincerely,T. CARLYLE.”
