III.—DAILY LIFE AND BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION.
The farm, or domain, as they prefer to call it, of the Oneida Community forms a part of the old Reservation of the Oneida Indians. It is a plain, the land naturally good and well watered; and it has been industriously improved by the communists. It lies four miles from Oneida on the New York Central Railroad, and the Midland Railroad passes through it.
The dwelling-house, a large brick building with some architectural pretensions, but no artistic merit, stands on the middle of a pleasant lawn, near the main road. It has some extensions in the rear, the chief of which is a large wing containing the kitchen and dining-room. The interior of the house is well arranged; the whole is warmed by steam; and there are baths and other conveniences. There is on the second floor a large hall, used for the evening gatherings of the community, and furnished with a stage for musical and dramatic performances, and with a number of round tables, about which they gather in their meetings. On the ground floor is a parlor for visitors; and a library-room, containing files of newspapers, and a miscellaneous library of about four thousand volumes.
There are two large family rooms, one on each story, around which a considerable number of sleeping-chambers are built; and the upper of these large rooms has two ranges of such dormitories, one above the other, the upper range being reached by a gallery. All the rooms are plainly furnished, there being neither any attempt at costly or elegant furnishing, nor a striving for Shaker plainness.
Above the dining-room is the printing-office, where the Circular is printed, and some job printing is done.
Opposite the dwelling, and across the road, are offices, a school-building, a lecture-room with a chemical laboratory, and a room for the use of the daguerreotypist of the community; farther on to the right is a large carpenter's shop, and to the left are barns, stables, the silk-dye house, and a small factory where the children of the community at odd hours make boxes for the spool silk produced here. There is also a large and conveniently arranged laundry.
Somewhat over a mile from the home place are the factories of the community—consisting of trap works, silk works, a forge, and machine shops. These are thoroughly fitted with labor-saving machinery, and are extensive enough to produce three hundred thousand traps, and the value of over two hundred thousand dollars' worth of silk-twist in a year. Near these workshops is a dwelling inhabited by thirty or forty of the communists, who are particularly employed in the shops.
The farm has been put in excellent order: there are extensive orchards of large and small fruits; and plantations of ornamental trees shelter the lawn about the dwelling. This lawn is in summer a favorite resort for picnic parties from a distance. As Sunday-school picnics are also brought hither, I judge that the hostility which once existed in the neighborhood to the Oneida Communists has disappeared. Indeed, at Oneida all with whom I had occasion to speak concerning the communists praised them for honesty, fair dealing, a peaceable disposition, and great business capacity.
Their system of administration is perfect and thorough. Their book-keeping—in which women are engaged as well as men, a young woman being the chief—is so systematized that they are able to know the profit or loss upon every branch of industry they pursue, as well as the cost of each part of their living.
They have twenty-one standing committees: on finance; amusements; patent-rights; location of tenant houses; arbitration; rents; baths, walks, roads, and lawns; fire; heating; sanitary; education; clothing; real estate and tenant houses; water-works and their supplies; painting; forest; water and steam power; photographs; hair-cutting; arcade; and Joppa—the last being an isolated spot on Oneida Lake, to which they go to bathe, fish, shoot, and otherwise ruralize.
Besides these, they divide the duties of administration among forty-eight departments: Circular; publication; silk manufacture; hardware; fruit-preserving; paper-box; printing; dyeing; carpentry; business office; shoe shop; library; photographs; educational; science and art; laundry; furniture; legal; subsistence; Wallingford printing; agriculture; horticulture; medical; incidentals; dentistry; real estate; musical; amusements; quarry; housekeeping; repairs; traveling; watches; clocks; tin shop; porterage; lights; livery; clothing; stationery; floral; water-works; children's; landscape; forests; heating; bedding; coal.
At first view these many committees and departments may appear cumbrous; but in practice they work well.
Every Sunday morning a meeting is held of what is called a "Business Board." This consists of the heads of all the departments, and of whoever, of the whole community, chooses to attend. At this meeting the business of the past week is discussed; and a secretary notes down briefly any action deemed advisable. At the Sunday-evening meeting the secretary's report is read to all, and thereupon discussed; and whatever receives general or unanimous approval is carried out.
Once a year, in the spring, there is a special meeting of the Business Board, at which the work of the year is laid out in some detail. At the beginning of the year an inventory is taken of all the possessions of the community.
Once a month the heads of the departments send in their accounts to the book-keepers, and these are then posted in the ledgers.
It is a principle with them to attempt nothing without the general consent of all the people; and if there is objection made, the matter proposed is put off for further discussion.
Shortly after New-Year, the Finance Committee sits and receives estimates. This means that each department sends in an estimate of the money it will require for the coming year. At the same time any one who has a project in his head may propose it, with an estimate of its cost. Thereupon the Finance Committee makes the necessary appropriations, revising the estimates in accordance with the general total which the society can afford to spend for the year. At or before this meeting the returns for the past year have been scrutinized.
All appointments on committees are made for a year; but there is a committee composed of men and women whose duty it is to appoint different persons to their work; and these may change the employments at any time. In practice, the foremen of the manufacturing establishments are not frequently changed. In appointing the labor of the members, their tastes as well as abilities are consulted, and the aim is to make each one contented.
The appointment of so many committees makes some one responsible for each department, and when any thing is needed, or any fault is to be found, the requisition can be directed to a particular person. Women, equally with men, serve on the committees.
They rise in the morning between five and half-past seven; this depending somewhat upon the business each is engaged in. The children sleep as long as they like. Breakfast is from eight to nine, and dinner from three to four; and they retire from half-past eight to half-past ten. The members do not now work very hard, as will appear from these hours; but they are steadily industrious; and as most of them superintend some department, and all of them work cheerfully, the necessary amount of labor is accomplished. Mere drudgery they nowadays put upon their hired people.
A square board, placed in a gallery near the library, tells at a glance where every body is. It contains the names of the men and women at the side, and the places where they can be found at the head; and a peg, which each one sticks in opposite his name, tells his whereabouts for the day.
There is no bell or other signal for proceeding to work; but each one is expected to attend faithfully to that which is given him or her to do; and here, as in other communities, no difficulty is found about idlers. Those who have disagreeable tasks are more frequently changed than others. Thus the women who superintend in the kitchen usually serve but a month, but sometimes two months at a time.
Children are left to the care of their mothers until they are weaned; then they are put into a general nursery, under the care of special nurses or care-takers, who are both men and women. There are two of these nurseries, one for the smaller children, the other for those above three or four years of age, and able somewhat to help themselves. These eat at the same time with the older people, and are seated at tables by themselves in the general dining-room. The children I saw were plump, and looked sound; but they seemed to me a little subdued and desolate, as though they missed the exclusive love and care of a father and mother. This, however, may have been only fancy; though I should grieve to see in the eyes of my own little ones an expression which I thought I saw in the Oneida children, difficult to describe—perhaps I might say a lack of buoyancy, or confidence and gladness. A man or woman may not find it disagreeable to be part of a great machine, but I suspect it is harder for a little child. However, I will not insist on this, for I may have been mistaken. I have seen, with similar misgivings, a lot of little chickens raised in an egg-hatching machine, and having a blanket for shelter instead of the wing of a mother: I thought they missed the cluck and the vigilant if sometimes severe care of the old hen. But after all they grew up to be hearty chickens, as zealous and greedy, and in the end as useful as their more particularly nurtured fellows.
In the dining-hall I noticed an ingenious contrivance to save trouble to those who wait on the table. The tables are round, and accommodate ten or twelve people each. There is a stationary rim, having space for the plates, cups, and saucers; and within this is a revolving disk, on which the food is placed, and by turning this about each can help himself.
They do not eat much meat, having it served not more than twice a week. Fruits and vegetables make up the greater part of their diet. They use tea, and coffee mixed with malt, which makes an excellent beverage. They use no tobacco, nor spirituous liquors.
The older people have separate sleeping-chambers; the younger usually room two together.
The men dress as people in the world do, but plainly, each one following his own fancy. The women wear a dress consisting of a bodice, loose trousers, and a short skirt falling to just above the knee. Their hair is cut just below the ears, and I noticed that the younger women usually gave it a curl. The dress is no doubt extremely convenient: it admits of walking in mud or snow, and allows freedom of exercise; and it is entirely modest. But it was to my unaccustomed eyes totally and fatally lacking in grace and beauty. The present dress of women, prescribed by fashion, and particularly the abominable false hair and the preposterously ugly hats, are sufficiently barbarous; but the Oneida dress, which is so scant that it forbids any graceful arrangement of drapery, seemed to me no improvement.
[Illustration: COSTUMES AT ONEIDA.]
As they have no sermons nor public prayers, so they have no peculiar mode of addressing each other. The men are called Mr., and the women Miss, except when they were married before they entered the society. It was somewhat startling to me to hear Miss —— speak about her baby. Even the founder is addressed or spoken of simply as Mr. Noyes.
At the end of every year each person gives into the Finance Board a detailed statement of what clothing he or she requires for the coming year, and upon the aggregate sum is based the estimate for the next year for clothing. At the beginning of 1874, the women proposed a different plan, which was thus described in the Circular:
"In our last woman's meeting, Mrs. C —— had a report to present for discussion and acceptance. A change of system was proposed. The plan that had been pursued for several years was to have a certain sum appropriated for clothing in the beginning of the year—so much for men, so much for women, and so much for children. Another sum was set apart for 'incidentals,' a word of very comprehensive scope. A woman of good judgment and great patience was appointed to the office of keeper and distributor of goods, and another of like qualifications was associated with a man of experience in doing the greater part of the buying. Each woman made out a list of the articles she needed, and selected them from the goods we had on hand, or sent or went for them to our neighboring merchants. This plan worked well in many respects, but it had some disadvantages. The women in charge had to be constantly adjusting and deciding little matters in order to make the wants coincide with the appropriated sum. Many unforeseen demands came in, and at the end of the year they inevitably exceeded their bounds. This year the Clothing Committee, in consultation with the financiers, proposed to adopt another plan. It was this: To appropriate a sum in the beginning of the year large enough to cover all reasonable demands, and then, after setting aside special funds for children's clothing, traveling wardrobes, infants' wardrobes and incidentals, to divide the remainder into as many equal portions as there were women in the family. Each woman then assumes for herself the responsibility of making the two ends meet at the close of the year. It was thought it would be a great advantage to each woman, and particularly to every young girl, to know what her clothing, from her hat to her shoes, costs. She would learn economy and foresight, and feel a new interest in the question of cost and payment. The plan, too, allows of great variations in the way of making presents and helping one another when there is a surplus, or, when there is no need, leaving it untouched in the treasury. After due explanations and discussions, the women voted unanimously to try the new plan."
It may interest some readers to know that the sum thus set aside for each woman's dress during the year, including shoes and hats, was thirty-three dollars. A member writes in explanation:
"Minus the superfluities and waste of fashion, we find thirty-three dollars a year plenty enough to keep us in good dresses, two or three for each season, summer, winter, fall, and spring (the fabrics are not velvets and satins, of course—they are flannels and merinos, the lighter kinds of worsted, various kinds of prints, and Japanese silk); to fill our drawers with the best of under-linen, to furnish us with hoods and sun-bonnets, beaver and broadcloth sacks, and a variety of shawls and shoulder-gear, lighter and pleasanter to wear, if not so ingrained with the degradation of toil as the costly Cashmere."
When a man needs a suit of clothes, he goes to the tailor and is measured, choosing at the same time the stuff and the style or cut.
There is a person called familiarly "Incidentals." To him is entrusted a fund for incidental and unforeseen expenses; and when a young woman wants a breast-pin—the only ornament worn—she applies to "Incidentals." When any one needs a watch, he makes his need known to the committee on watches.
For the children they have a sufficiently good school, in which the Bible takes a prominent part as a text-book. The young people are encouraged to continue their studies, and they have two or three classes in history, one in grammar, and several in French, Latin, geology, etc. These study and recite at odd times; and it is their policy not to permit the young men and women to labor too constantly. The Educational Committee superintends the evening classes.
They also cultivate vocal and instrumental music; and have several times sent one or two of their young women to New York to receive special musical instruction. Also for some years they have kept several of their young men in the Yale scientific school, and in other departments of that university. Thus they have educated two of their members to be physicians; two in the law; one in mechanical engineering; one in architecture; and others in other pursuits. Usually these have been young men from twenty-two to twenty-five years of age, who had prepared themselves practically beforehand.
It is their habit to change their young people from one employment to another, and thus make each master of several trades. The young women are not excluded from this variety; and they have now several girls learning the machinists' trade, in a building appropriated to this purpose; and their instructor told me they were especially valuable for the finer and more delicate kinds of lathe-work. A young man whom they sent to the Sheffield scientific school to study mechanical engineering had been for a year or two in the machine shop before he went to Yale; he is now at the head of the silk works. Their student in architecture had in the same way prepared himself in their carpenter's shop.
No one who visits a communistic society which has been for some time in existence can fail to be struck with the amount of ingenuity, inventive skill, and business talent developed among men from whom, in the outer world, one would not expect such qualities. This is true, too, of the Oneida Communists. They contrived all the machinery they use for making traps—one very ingenious piece making the links for the chains. They had no sooner begun to work in silk than they invented a little toy which measures the silk thread as it is wound on spools, and accurately gauges the number of yards; and another which tests the strength of silk; and these have come into such general use that they already make them for sale.
So, too, when they determined to begin the silk manufacture, they sent one of their young men and two women to work as hands in a well-managed factory. In six months these returned, having sufficiently mastered the business to undertake the employment and instruction of hired operatives. Of the machinery they use, they bought one set and made all the remainder upon its pattern, in their own foundry and shops. A young man who had studied chemistry was sent out to a dye-house, and in a few months made himself a competent dyer. In all this complicated enterprise they made so few mistakes that in six months after they began to produce silk-twist their factory had a secure reputation in the market.
It is their custom to employ their people, where they have responsible places, in couples. Thus there are two house stewards, two foremen in a factory, etc.; both having equal knowledge, and one always ready to take the other's place if he finds the work wearing upon him.
They seemed to me to have an almost fanatical horror of forms. Thus they change their avocations frequently; they remove from Oneida to Willow Place, or to Wallingford, on slight excuses; they change the order of their evening meetings and amusements with much care; and have changed even their meal hours. One said to me, "We used to eat three meals a day—now we eat but two; but we may be eating five six months from now."
Very few of their young people have left them; and some who have gone out have sought to return. They have expelled but one person since the community was organized. While they received members, they exacted no probationary period, but used great care before admission. Mr. Noyes said on this subject:
"There has been a very great amount of discrimination and vigilance exercised by the Oneida Community from first to last in regard to our fellowships, and yet it seems to me it is one of the greatest miracles that this community has succeeded as it has. Notwithstanding our discrimination and determination to wait on God in regard to those we receive, we scarcely have been saved."
New members sign a paper containing the creed, and also an agreement to claim no wages or other reward for their labor while in the community.
IV.—SUNDAY AT THE ONEIDA COMMUNITY, WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF "CRITICISM."
I was permitted to spend several days at the Oneida Community, among which was a Sunday.
The people are kind, polite to each other and to strangers, cheerful, and industrious. There is no confusion, and for so large a number very little noise. Where two hundred people live together in one house, order, system, and punctuality are necessary; and loud voices would soon become a nuisance.
I was shown the house, the kitchen and heating arrangements, the barns with their fine stock, the various manufacturing operations; and in the evening was taken to their daily gathering, at which instrumental music, singing, and conversation engage them for an hour, after which they disperse to the private parlors to amuse themselves with dominoes or dancing, or to the library to read or write letters. Cards are prohibited. The questions I asked were freely answered; and all the people in one way or another came under my eye.
Some of them have the hard features of toil-worn New England farmers; others look like the average business-men of our country towns or inland cities; others are students, and there are a number of college-bred men in the community. A fine collection of birds in a cabinet, skillfully stuffed and mounted, showed me that there is in the society a lively love of natural history. The collection is, I should think, almost complete for the birds of the region about Oneida.
The people seem contented, and pleased with their success, as well they may be, for it is remarkable. They use good language, and the standard of education among them is considerably above the average. No doubt the training they get in their evening discussions, and in the habit of writing for a paper whose English is pretty carefully watched, has benefited them. They struck me as matter-of-fact, with no nonsense or romance about them, by no means overworked, and with a certain, perhaps for their place in life high average of culture. I should say that the women are inferior to the men: examining the faces at an evening meeting, this was the impression I carried away.
If I should add that the predominant impression made upon me was that it was a common-place company, I might give offense; but, after all, what else but this could be the expression of people whose lives are removed from need, and narrowly bounded by their community; whose religious theory calls for no internal struggles, and, once within the community, very little self-denial; who are well-fed and sufficiently amused, and not overworked, and have no future to fear? The greater passions are not stirred in such a life. If these are once thoroughly awakened, the individual leaves the community.
On Sunday the first work is to sort and send away to the laundry the soiled clothing of the week. After this comes the regular weekly meeting of the Business Board; and thereafter meetings for criticism, conducted in rooms apart.
The institution of Criticism, a description of which I have reserved for this place, is a most important and ingenious device, which Noyes and his followers rightly regard as the corner-stone of their practical community life. It is in fact their main instrument of government; and it is useful as a means of eliminating uncongenial elements, and also to train those who remain into harmony with the general system and order.
I am told that it was first used by Mr. Noyes while he was a divinity student at Andover, where certain members of his class were accustomed to meet together to criticize each other. The person to suffer criticism sits in silence, while the rest of the company, each in turn, tell him his faults, with, I judge, an astonishing and often exasperating plainness of speech. Here is the account given by Mr. Noyes himself:
"The measures relied upon for good government in these community families are, first, daily evening meetings, which all are expected to attend. In these meetings, religious, social, and business matters are freely discussed, and opportunity given for exhortation and reproof. Secondly, the system of mutual criticism. This system takes the place of backbiting in ordinary society, and is regarded as one of the greatest means of improvement and fellowship. All of the members are accustomed to voluntarily invite the benefit of this ordinance from time to time. Sometimes persons are criticized by the entire family; at other times by a committee of six, eight, twelve, or more, selected by themselves from among those best acquainted with them, and best able to do justice to their character. In these criticisms the most perfect sincerity is expected; and in practical experience it is found best for the subject to receive his criticism without replying. There is little danger that the general verdict in respect to his character will be unjust. This ordinance is far from agreeable to those whose egotism and vanity are stronger than their love of truth. It is an ordeal which reveals insincerity and selfishness; but it also often takes the form of commendation, and reveals hidden virtues as well as secret faults. It is always acceptable to those who wish to see themselves as others see them.
"These two agencies—daily evening meetings and criticism—are found quite adequate to the maintenance of good order and government in the communities. Those who join the communities understanding their principles, and afterward prove refractory and inharmonic, and also those who come into the communities in childhood, and afterward develop characters antagonistic to the general spirit, and refuse to yield to the governmental agencies mentioned, either voluntarily withdraw or are expelled. Only one case of expulsion is, however, recorded."
They depend upon criticism to cure whatever they regard as faults in the character of a member; for instance, idleness, disorderly habits, impoliteness, selfishness, a love of novel-reading, "selfish love," conceit, pride, stubbornness, a grumbling spirit—for every vice, petty or great, criticism is held to be a remedy. They have even a "criticism-cure," and hold that this is almost as effective as their "prayer-cure."
On Sunday afternoon, by the kindness of a young man who had offered himself for criticism, I was permitted to be present. Fifteen persons besides myself, about half women, and about half young people under thirty, were seated in a room, mostly on benches placed against the wall. Among them was Mr. Noyes himself, who sat in a large rocking-chair. The young man to be criticized, whom I will call Charles, sat inconspicuously in the midst of the company. When the doors were closed, he was asked by the leader (not Mr. Noyes) whether he desired to say any thing. Retaining his seat, he said that he had suffered for some time past from certain intellectual difficulties and doubts—a leaning especially toward positivism, and lack of faith; being drawn away from God; a tendency to think religion of small moment. But that he was combating the evil spirit within him, and hoped he had gained somewhat; and so on.
Hereupon a man being called on to speak, remarked that he thought Charles had been somewhat hardened by too great good-fortune; that his success in certain enterprises had somewhat spoiled him; if he had not succeeded so well, he would have been a better man; that he was somewhat wise in his own esteem; not given to consult with others, or to seek or take advice. One or two other men agreed generally with the previous remarks, had noticed these faults in Charles, and that they made him disagreeable; and gave examples to show his faults. Another concurred in the general testimony, but added that he thought Charles had lately made efforts to correct some of his faults, though there was still much room for improvement.
A young woman next remarked that Charles was haughty and supercilious, and thought himself better than others with whom he was brought into contact; that he was needlessly curt sometimes to those with whom he had to speak.
Another young woman added that Charles was a respecter of persons; that he showed his liking for certain individuals too plainly by calling them pet names before people; that he seemed to forget that such things were disagreeable and wrong.
Another woman said that Charles was often careless in his language; sometimes used slang words, and was apt to give a bad impression to strangers. Also that he did not always conduct himself at table, especially before visitors, with careful politeness and good manners.
A man concurred in this, and remarked that he had heard Charles condemn the beefsteak on a certain occasion as tough; and had made other unnecessary remarks about the food on the table while he was eating.
A woman remarked that she had on several occasions found Charles a respecter of persons.
Another said that Charles, though industrious and faithful in all temporalities, and a very able man, was not religious at all.
A man remarked that Charles was, as others had said, somewhat spoiled by his own success, but that it was a mistake for him to be so, for he was certain that Charles's success came mainly from the wisdom and care with which the society had surrounded him with good advisers, who had guided him; and that Charles ought therefore to be humble, instead of proud and haughty, as one who ought to look outside of himself for the real sources of his success.
Finally, two or three remarked that he had been in a certain transaction insincere toward another young man, saying one thing to his face and another to others; and in this one or two women concurred.
Amid all this very plain speaking, which I have considerably condensed, giving only the general charges, Charles sat speechless, looking before him; but as the accusations multiplied, his face grew paler, and drops of perspiration began to stand on his forehead. The remarks I have reported took up about half an hour; and now, each one in the circle having spoken, Mr. Noyes summed up.
He said that Charles had some serious faults; that he had watched him with some care; and that he thought the young man was earnestly trying to cure himself. He spoke in general praise of his ability, his good character, and of certain temptations he had resisted in the course of his life. He thought he saw signs that Charles was making a real and earnest attempt to conquer his faults; and as one evidence of this he remarked that Charles had lately come to him to consult him upon a difficult case in which he had had a severe struggle, but had in the end succeeded in doing right. "In the course of what we call stirpiculture," said Noyes, "Charles, as you know, is in the situation of one who is by and by to become a father. Under these circumstances, he has fallen under the too common temptation of selfish love, and a desire to wait upon and cultivate an exclusive intimacy with the woman who was to bear a child through him. This is an insidious temptation, very apt to attack people under such circumstances; but it must nevertheless be struggled against." Charles, he went on to say, had come to him for advice in this case, and he (Noyes) had at first refused to tell him any thing, but had asked him what he thought he ought to do; that after some conversation, Charles had determined, and he agreed with him, that he ought to isolate himself entirely from the woman, and let another man take his place at her side; and this Charles had accordingly done, with a most praiseworthy spirit of self-sacrifice. Charles had indeed still further taken up his cross, as he had noticed with pleasure, by going to sleep with the smaller children, to take charge of them during the night. Taking all this in view, he thought Charles was in a fair way to become a better man, and had manifested a sincere desire to improve, and to rid himself of all selfish faults.
Thereupon the meeting was dismissed.
All that I have recited was said by practiced tongues. The people knew very well how to express themselves. There was no vagueness, no uncertainty. Every point was made; every sentence was a hit—a stab I was going to say, but as the sufferer was a volunteer, I suppose this would be too strong a word. I could see, however, that while Charles might be benefited by the "criticism," those who spoke of him would perhaps also be the better for their speech; for if there had been bitterness in any of their hearts before, this was likely to be dissipated by the free utterance. Concerning the closing remarks of Noyes, which disclose so strange and horrible a view of morals and duty, I need say nothing.
Here are a few specimens of criticisms which have been printed in the Circular. The first concerns a young woman:
"What God has done for U. is wonderful; her natural gifts and attractions are uncommon; but she has added very little to them. She is spoiling them by indolence and vanity. The gifts we have by nature do not belong to us. We shall have to give account for them to God as his property. All that we can expect any reward for is what we add to that which he gives us." The next seems to point at troubles of a kind to which the community is, I suppose, more or less subject:
"I wish I could entirely change public opinion among us in regard to the matter of keeping secrets. The fact that a person is of such a character that others associated with him are afraid that he will finally expose their wrong-doing is the highest credit to him. I would earnestly exhort all lovers of every degree, young and old, and especially the young, to consider the absolute impossibility of permanently keeping secrets. It is not for us to say whether we will keep other folks' secrets or not. It is for God to say. We are in his hands, and he will make us tell the truth even though we say we won't. He has certainly made it his programme and eternal purpose that every secret thing shall come to light. What is done in darkness shall be published on the house-top. This is sure to come, because it is God's policy, and it is vain for us to seek to evade and thwart it. Two persons get together with shameful secrets, and promise and protest and pledge themselves never to turn on each other. What is the use? It is not for them to say what they will do. They will finally turn on one another. It is a mercy to them that they must. The best thing to be said of them is that they are likely to turn on one another and betray their secrets. They will, if there is any honesty or true purpose in them. This keeping secrets that are dishonest, profane, and infernal, and regarding them as sacred, is all wrong. It is the rule of friendship and honor in the world, but to let the daylight in on every thing is the rule for those who want to please God."
What follows relates to a man who was cast down because of criticism, and whose fault Noyes says is excessive sensitiveness:
"Excessive sensitiveness is a great fault. Every one should strive to get where he can judge himself, look at himself truthfully by the grace of God, and cultivate what may be called the superior consciousness, looking at his own fault as he would at another person's, and feeling no more pain in dissecting his own character than he would that of any one else. This superior consciousness takes us into fellowship with God and his judgment; and in that condition it is possible to rejoice in pulling to pieces our own works. Paul says: 'Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble, every man's work shall be made manifest—for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work, of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire.' There is a great amount of poor building upon that good foundation; a great number of structures that are wood, hay, and stubble, and which in the day of fire will be burned up. The main point to be gained by those who have thus built is to get into such sympathy with God that they can stand by when the day of fire comes, and help on the destruction—poke the wood, hay, and stubble into the flame, rejoicing that they have a good foundation, and are to be saved not only from the fire, but by the fire."
Finally, they use criticism as a remedy for diseases. I take this example from the Circular for June 4, 1853:
"S. P., having a bad cold and symptoms of a run of fever, tried the criticism-cure, and was immediately relieved. She was on the bed in a state of pain and restlessness, when a friend mentioned to her the above remedy as having been successfully applied in similar cases. Having some faith in it, she arose immediately and made her wishes known to the family physician, that is, to the family, who kindly administered the remedy without delay. The operation was not particularly agreeable—there is no method of cure that is; but it was short and speedily efficacious. One secret of its efficacy is, it stops the flow of thought toward the seat of difficulty, and so tends directly to reduce inflammation. At the same time it has a very bracing, invigorating effect. In the present case, it went right to the cause of the disease, which was discovered to be a spirit of fear, throwing open the pores and predisposing the subject to the attack. S. P. had been brought up in a bad habit in this respect, expecting with every exposure to take cold—and then expecting to have it go on to a serious cough, and so on—fear realizing itself. Criticism stopped this false action, and not only made her well in the first instance, but by breaking up this fear it has given her comparative security against future attacks. It requires some fortitude and self-denial in the patient, when he thinks he needs sympathy and nursing, to take criticism instead; but it is well known that to rouse the will to strong exertion is more than half a cure. The criticism remedy professes to be universal, and is recommended for trial to all the afflicted."
The Circular for December, 1863, reports:
"It is a common custom here for every one who may be attacked with any disorder to apply this remedy by sending for a committee of six or eight persons, in whose faith and spiritual judgment he has confidence, to come and criticize him. The result, when administered sincerely, is almost universally to throw the patient into a sweat, or to bring on a reaction of his life against disease, breaking it up, and restoring him soon to usual health. We have seen this result produced without any other agency except the use of ice, in perhaps twenty cases of sore throat within a few weeks. We have seen it take effect at an advanced stage of chronic disease, and raise a person up apparently from death's door. It seems a somewhat heroic method of treatment when a person is suffering in body to apply a castigation to the character through the spiritual or moral part; but this is precisely the thing needed to cleanse and purify the system from disease. We have tried it, and found it to be invaluable. To all who have faith in Christ as a physician we can commend this prescription as a medium for conveying his healing life. If you are sick, seek for some one to tell you your faults, to find out your weakest spot in character or conduct; let them put their finger on the very sore that you would best like to keep hid. Depend upon it, there is the avenue through which disease gets access to you. And if the sincerity which points this out and opens it to the light hurts, and is mortifying for the time being, it is only a sign that the remedy is applied at the right place and is taking effect."
In a recent number of the Circular (1874) a "criticism of a sick man" is reported in full. It is too long to give here; but I quote a few of the remarks, to show the style of attack in such cases. The report opens with this statement:
"[L. has been quite prostrate for months with some kind of spinal affection, complicated with chills and fever. In presenting himself for criticism, he was invited, as the subject generally is, to open his own case. He said he was under a spirit of depression and discouragement, particularly about his health. He thought he should be better off if he did not know so much about his disease. Dr. Pope had pronounced it incurable.]"
W. said:
"I think that L. is troubled with false imaginations, and that he has inherited this tendency. His father was subject to the hypo—always a prey to imaginations. I question whether the root of L.'s whole difficulty does not lie in his imagination. I don't doubt but that he feels what he thinks he does, but imagination has terrible power to make us feel. Christ can cast down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God."
J. said:
"He talks a great deal about his symptoms. If he would talk on the side of faith, I think he would be a well man right off. He is as well as any body when he is well, and there is no reason why he should not be well all the time. He is a very valuable member of the community, and I don't like to see him lie on his back so much.
"M.—I have thought that his knowledge of physiology, as he uses it, is really a hindrance to him: he knows too much about his case.
"C.—I thought I had the heart disease when I was about nineteen years of age. My heart would beat so when I went up stairs that I had to sit down at the top. I remember that I said to my aunt one day I was sure that I had got that disease, because my heart had such times of beating. 'O la!' she answered,' I guess you would not live long if it did not beat.'
"N. [probably Mr. Noyes]—I have good reason to believe that a great many diseases which doctors pronounce incurable are so so far as their powers are concerned, and yet can be cured by exorcism. Doctors do not believe in possession by the devil, and of course have no means of curing diseases of that nature. They accordingly pronounce some diseases incurable. Yet these diseases are not incurable by persons who understand the nature of them, and that they are spiritual obsessions. I do not care what the doctors say about L.'s back. It is very likely incurable so far as they know, and yet it may be very easily curable to any body who knows about the doctrine of the possession of the devil. There is a range of science beyond the routine of the doctors which we must take into the account in all this dealing with disease. Just look at the case of Harriet Hall, and see what incurable diseases she had. Two doctors certified that she ought to be dead twenty years ago, and here she is alive and waiting on her father. Those doctors are dead, and she is trotting around.
"E.—I have been associated a good deal with L. in business and now in this sickness. I have studied his case some. His attitude toward disease is very much like his attitude in business. When he has been well and able to do his best, he has been in the past an autocrat in our businesses. If he said a thing would not go, or would go, his dictum was always accepted. He has a good deal of pride in having what he predicts turn out to be true. I have sometimes thought that he was willing to have things break down in order to demonstrate his infallibility as an oracle. He shows the same trait in regard to disease. If he has a symptom, and makes up his mind that he is going to have a certain disease, he notifies his friends of it, and seems bound to have his prophecy come true any way.
"N.—He would rather have a good chill, I suppose, than have his prediction prove false.
"E.—I think he really knows but very little about his case. He lost his health, and took up the study of medicine to find out what ailed him. It may seem paradoxical, but I think that he is suffering for want of work; his brain is suffering for want of some healthy action. If he would use his brain about something for only half an hour a day, he would find himself improving right along.
"A.—I remember L. had the reputation of being an ingenious boy; but he used to seem old even then—he had the rheumatism or some such complaint. In thinking about him, it seems to me that the instinct of his life is to find a soft place in the world: he is hunting up cushions and soft things to surround himself with. His bent is rather scientific than religious. A man that is an oracle surrounds himself with something soft in having people defer to him. I must say I think he is too oracular about disease, considering the amount of study he has given to the science of medicine. He went into the study of medicine in a sort of self-coddling way, to find out what the matter was with himself. I have realized that it is not good for a man in this world to hunt for a soft spot."
And so on. Mr. Noyes closed the session with this remark:
"N.—Christ's words, 'Because I live ye shall live also,' may be thrust in the face of all incurable diseases. There is no answer to that. No incurable disease can stand against it."
I do not know whether L. recovered or not.
On Sunday evening, about half-past six o'clock, there was a gathering in the large hall to hear some pieces of music from the orchestra. After half an hour's intermission, the people again assembled, this time for a longer session. A considerable number of round tables were scattered about the large hall; on these were lamps; and around them sat most of the women, old and young, with sewing or knitting, with which they busied themselves during the meeting. Others sat on benches and chairs, irregularly ranged about.
After the singing of a hymn, a man rose and read the report of the business meeting held that morning, the appointment of some committees, and so on; and this was then put to vote and accepted, having elicited no discussion, and very little interest apparently. Next a man, who sat near Mr. Noyes in the middle of the room, read some extracts from newspapers, which had been marked and sent in to him by different members for that purpose. Some of these were mere drolleries, and raised laughter. Others concerned practical matters.
To this reading, which was brief, followed a discussion of the power of healing disease by prayer. It was asserted to be "necessary to regard Christ as powerful to-day over diseases of the body as well as of the spirit." When several had spoken very briefly upon this subject, and the conversation was evidently closed, a considerable number of the people concurred in what had been said by short ejaculations, as "I confess the power of Christ in my heart;" "I confess the power of healing;" "I confess to a tender conscience;" "I confess Christ;" "I confess a love for all good people," and so on.
Next a hymn was sung relating to community life, which I copy here as a curiosity:
"Let us sing, brothers, sing,
In the Eden of heart-love—
Where the fruits of life spring,
And no death e'er can part love;
Where the pure currents flow
From all gushing hearts together,
And the wedding of the Lamb
Is the feast of joy forever.
Let us sing, brothers, sing.
"We have built us a dome
On our beautiful plantation,
And we all have one home,
And one family relation;
We have battled with the wiles
Of the dark world of Mammon,
And returned with its spoils
To the home of our dear ones.
Let us sing, brothers, sing.
"When the rude winds of wrath
Idly rave round our dwelling,
And the slanderer's breath
Like a simoon was swelling,
Then so merrily we sung,
As the storm blustered o'er us,
Till the very heavens rung
With our hearts' joyful chorus.
Let us go, brothers, go.
"So love's sunshine begun:
Now the spirit-flowers are blooming,
And the feeling that we're one
All our hearts is perfuming;
Toward one home we have all
Set our faces together,
Where true love doth dwell
In peace and joy forever.
Let us sing, brothers, sing."
This was presently followed by another song peculiar to the Oneida people. A man sang, looking at a woman near him:
"I love you, O my sister,
But the love of God is better;
Yes, the love of God is better—
O the love of God is best."
To this she replied:
"I love you, O my brother,
But the love of God is better;
Yes, the love of God is better—
O the love of God is best."
Then came the chorus, in which a number of voices joined:
"Yes, the love of God is better,
O the love of God is better;
Hallelujah, Hallelujah—
Yes, the love of God is best."
Soon after the meeting broke up; but there was more singing, later, in the private parlors, which I did not attend. Thus ended Sunday at the Oneida Community; and with this picture of their daily life I may conclude my account of these people.
THE AURORA AND BETHEL COMMUNES.
Twenty-nine miles south of Portland, on the Oregon and California Railroad, lies the village of Aurora, more commonly known along the road as "Dutchtown." As you approach it on the train, you will notice on an eminence to the left a large wooden church; in the deep ravine which is spanned by a railroad-bridge, a saw-mill; and, scattered irregularly over the neighboring country, a number of houses, most of them differing from usual village dwellings in the United States, mainly because of their uncommon size, and the entire absence of ornament. They are three stories high, sometimes nearly a hundred feet deep, and look like factories.
Opposite the railroad station, upon elevated ground, stands one of these houses, which is called the hotel, and is an excellent, clean country inn, famous all over Oregon for good living. When I mentioned to an acquaintance in Portland my purpose to spend some days at Aurora, he replied, "Oh, yes—Dutchtown; you'll feed better there than any where else in the state;" and on further inquiry I found that I might expect to see there also the best orchards in Oregon, the most ingenious expedients for drying fruits, and an excellent system of agriculture. Beyond these practical points, and the further statement that "these Dutch are a queer people," information about them is not general among Oregonians. The inn, or "hotel," however, at Aurora, is used as a summer resort by residents of Portland; the Aurora band is employed at festivities in Portland; the pleasure-grounds of the community are opened to Sunday-school and other picnics from the city in summer and fall; and at the State Agricultural Fair, held at Salem, the Aurora Community controls and manages the restaurant, and owns the buildings in which food is prepared and sold. In these ways it comes into direct communication with the outside world.
I found the hotel a plainly furnished but scrupulously neat and clean house, at which I was received with very little ceremony. Nor did any one volunteer to guide me about or give me information concerning the society: curiosity does not seem to be a vice of the place. A note of introduction to that member of the society who acts as its purchasing agent, with which fortunately I was provided, secured me his attention after I had found him. He was just then at work as a carpenter, putting up a small house for a newly married couple.
The Aurora Commune is an offshoot of a society formed upon the same principles in Bethel, Shelby County, Missouri. Dr. Keil, the President of Aurora, was the founder of Bethel, and still rules both communities. He removed from Missouri to Oregon because he imagined that there would be a larger field for his efforts in a new state; and also, I imagine, because of an innate restlessness of disposition.
Dr. Keil is a Prussian, born in 1811; and was a man-milliner in Germany. He became a mystic, and he seems to have dealt also in magnetism, and used this as a curative agent for diseases. After living for some time in New York, he came to Pittsburgh, where he gave himself out as a physician, and showed, it is said, some knowledge of botany. He professed also to be the owner of a mysterious volume, written with human blood, and containing receipts for medicines which enabled him, as he professed, to cure various diseases. Presently he became a Methodist, and thereupon burned this book with certain awe-inspiring formalities. He seems to have been a fanatic in religious matters, for he soon left the Methodists to form a sect of his own; and it is related that he gathered a number of Germans about him, to whom he gave himself out as a being to be worshiped, and later as one of the two witnesses in the Book of Revelation; and in this capacity he gave public notice that on a certain day, after a fast of forty days, he would be slain in the presence of his followers.
While he was thus engaged in forming a following for himself among the ignorant and simple-minded Germans, the rogue who called himself Count Leon came over and joined Rapp's colony at Economy; and when Leon, after quarreling with Rapp and removing to Phillipsburg, ran away from there to Louisiana, Keil managed to secure some of Leon's people as his adherents, and thereupon began to plan a communistic settlement, somewhat upon the plan of Rapp's, but with the celibate principle left out. In the year 1844, his followers, among whom were by good luck some of the seceders from Economy, began a settlement in accordance with these plans in Missouri. They were all either Germans or "Pennsylvania Dutch," and people of limited means. It is probable that Keil had nothing, for he appears for some years previously to have followed no regular business or profession. They removed to Bethel, a point forty-eight miles from Hannibal, in Missouri, and thirty-six miles from Quincy; and began in very humble style. Not all the colonists came out at once. He took with him at first two families and a number of young people. These broke ground in the new settlement, and others followed as they sold their property at home.
Shelby County, Missouri, was then a new country. The colonists took up four sections, or two thousand five hundred and sixty acres of land, to which they added from time to time until they possessed four thousand acres. Upon a part of this estate they gradually established a distillery, grist-mill, sawmill, carding machinery, a woolen-mill, and all the mechanical trades needed by the farmers in their neighborhood, and thus they made a town. As soon as they were able they set up a general store, and a post-office was of course established by the government. Among their first buildings was a church; for Dr. Keil was their spiritual as well as temporal head.
At Bethel they prospered; and there four hundred of these Communists still live. I shall give an account of them later.
Keil's ideas grew with the increasing wealth of the people; and his unrestful spirit longed for a new and broader field of labor. He imagined that on the Pacific coast he might found a larger communistic society upon a broader domain; and he did not find it difficult to persuade his people that the attempt ought to be made.
In 1855, accordingly, Dr. Keil set out with ten or twelve families, eighty persons in all, across the plains, carrying along household utensils and some cattle. A few families started later, and crossed the Isthmus; and all gathered at Shoalwater Bay, north of the mouth of the Columbia River, and in Washington Territory. There a few families belonging to Aurora still live, managing farms of the community; but in June, 1856, the main body of the society removed to Aurora, and began there, with tedious and severe labor, a clearing among the firs.
The upper part of the Willamette Valley is a broad, open plain, easy to till, and inviting to the farmer. Dr. Keil and his companions avoided this plain: they chose to settle in a region pretty densely grown over with timber. I asked him why he did so. He replied that, meaning to establish a sawmill, they wished to use the trees cut down in clearing the land to make into lumber for houses and fences. There was at that time no railroad, and lumber in the open prairie was expensive. "The end proved that we were right," said he; "for, though we had hard work at first, and got ahead slowly, we were soon able to buy out the prairie farmers, who had got into debt and were shiftless, while we prudent Germans were building our place." He added a characteristic story of their early days—that when they first settled at Aurora, having no fruit of their own, he used to buy summer apples for his people from the nearest farmers for a dollar a bushel. These were eaten in the families; but he taught them to save the apple-parings, and make them into vinegar, which he then sold to the wives of his American farming neighbors at a dollar and a half per gallon.
In order to make intelligible the means as well as the ways of their success, I must here explain what are the social principles to which they agree, and in accordance with which they have worked since 1844. They are remarkable chiefly for their simplicity. Dr. Keil teaches, and they hold that—
1st. All government should be parental, to imitate, as they say, the parental government of God.
2d. That therefore societies should be formed upon the model of the family, having all interests and all property absolutely in common; all the members laboring faithfully for the general welfare and support, and drawing the means of living from the general treasury.
3d. That, however, neither religion nor the harmony of nature teaches community in any thing further than property and labor. Hence the family life is strictly maintained; and the Aurora Communists marry and are given in marriage, and raise and train children precisely as do their neighbors the Pike farmers. They reject absolutely all sexual irregularities, and inculcate marriage and support the family relation as religious duties, as the outside world does. Each family has its own house, or separate apartments in one of the large buildings.
4th. Dr. Keil, who is not only their president, but also their preacher, holds the fundamental truth of Christianity to be, "Love one another," and interprets this in so broad and literal a sense as requires a community of goods and effects. His sermons are exhortations and illustrations of this principle, and warnings against "selfishness" and praise of self-sacrifice. Service is held in a very commodious and well-built church twice a month, and after the Lutheran style: opening with singing, prayer, and reading of the Scriptures; after which the president preaches from a chosen text.
To me he spoke with some vehemence against sects and creeds as anti-Christian. Sunday is usually a day of recreation and quiet amusement, with music and visiting among the people.
5th. The children of the community are sent to school, there being at Aurora a common or free school, in which an old man, a member of the society, who bears a remarkable resemblance to the late Horace Greeley, is teacher. The school is supported as other free schools of the state are; but it is open all the year round, which is not the case generally with country schools. They aim to teach only the rudimentary studies— reading, writing, and arithmetic.
6th. The system of government is as simple as possible. Dr. Keil, the founder, is president of the community, and autocrat. He has for his advisers four of the older members, who are selected by himself. In the management of affairs he consults these, whose opinions, I imagine, usually agree with his. When any vitally important change or experiment is contemplated, the matter is discussed by the whole community, and nothing is done then without a general assent.
7th. Every man is expected to labor for the general good, but there are no established hours of work, nor is any one compelled to labor at any special pursuit.
8th. Plain living and rigid economy are inculcated as duties from each to the whole; and to labor regularly, and to waste nothing, are important parts of the "whole duty of man."
9th. Each workshop has its foreman, who comes, it would seem, by natural selection. That is to say, here, as elsewhere, the fittest man comes to the front. But it is a principle of their polity that men shall not be confined to one kind of labor. If brickmakers are needed, and shoemakers are not busy, the shoe shop is closed, and the shoemakers go out and make brick. During the spring and summer months a large proportion of the people are engaged in the cultivation of crops. After harvest these are drawn into the town, and find winter employment in the saw-mill and the different shops. It is to accommodate these temporary sojourners that the large houses are built. Here they have apartments allotted to them, and the young people board with the different families, the young girls being employed chiefly in household duties.
These are the extremely simple principles and practical rules which guide the Aurora Community. Their further application I will show in detail hereafter. I wish first to show the dollar-and-cent results.
Coming to Aurora in 1856, they have held together, with some outside gains, and some additions from the Bethel Society, until there are now nearly four hundred people in the settlement, who own about eighteen thousand acres of land, scattered over several counties. They have established a sawmill, a tan-yard, and cabinet-maker's, blacksmith's, wagon-maker's, tailor's, shoemaker's, carpenter's, and tin shops. Also a grist-mill, carding machinery, some looms for weaving wool; drying houses for fruit; and there is a supply store for the community, a drug store kept by the doctor of the society, and a general country store, at which the neighboring farmers, not Communists, deal for cash.
They have besides the most extensive orchards in the state, in which are apples, pears of all kinds, plums, prunes, which do admirably here, and all the commoner large and small fruits. There is also a large vegetable garden, for the use of those who have none at their houses. The orchards are in fine order, and were laden with fruit when I saw them in June, 1873. Near the orchard is a large, neatly kept house, in which the people gather during the fruit-harvest to prepare it for market, and to pare that which is to be dried. Beyond the orchard is a public ground of a dozen acres, for Sunday assemblies; and here, too, are houses for eating and dancing, with a kitchen and bake-ovens commodious enough to cook a meal for the whole settlement, or for a large picnic party.
Thus far they have brought their affairs in seventeen years, without any peculiar religious belief, any interference with the marriage or family relation, without a peculiar dress, or any other habit to mark them as Separatists, or "Come-outers," to use a New England phrase. It must be admitted also that they have achieved thus much without long or exhausting or enforced labor.
Their living is extremely plain. The houses and apartments are without carpets; the women wear calico on Sunday as well as during the week, and the sun-bonnet is their head-covering. The men wear ready-made clothing of no particular style. Cleanliness is, so far as I saw, a conspicuous virtue of the society. Dr. Keil, the president, was the only person with whom I came in contact who was not very neat. He is a snuff-taker; and he walked over the orchard with me in an untidy pair of carpet slippers.
They appear to be people of few ceremonies. On a Sunday I attended a wedding; the marriage took place in the school-house, and was witnessed by a small congregation of young people, friends of the bride and groom. The young girls came to the wedding in clean calico dresses and sun-bonnets; and I noticed that even the bride wore only a very plain woolen dress, with a bit of bright ribbon around her neck. The ceremony was performed by the schoolmaster, who is also a justice of the peace; when it was over, the company quietly and somewhat shyly walked up to congratulate the newly married, some of the young women kissing the bride. Then there was an immediate adjournment to the house of the bride's father, a mile off in the country. I was hospitably invited to go to the feast; and found a small log cabin, with kitchen and bedroom below, and a loft above, standing near a deep ravine, and with a neat garden and small orchard back of it.
In front a bower had been formed of the boughs of evergreens, beneath which were two or three tables, which were presently spread with a plain but wholesome and bountiful feast, to which the strangers present and the older people were first invited to sit down, the younger ones waiting on the table, and with laughter and joking taking their places afterward. Meantime the village band played; after dinner we all walked into the garden, and in a pretty little summer-house discussed orchards, bees, and other country living, and by and by returned to the village. The young people were to have some dancing, and altogether it was a very pretty, rather quiet country wedding. It struck me that the young women were undersized, and did not look robust or strong; there were no rosy cheeks, and there was a very subdued air upon all the congregation. The poor little bride looked pale and scared; but the bridegroom, a stout young fellow, looked proud and happy, as was proper. Dr. Keil was not present, but drove out in a very plain country wagon as the weddingers entered the schoolroom.
The community occasionally employs outside laborers; and when a man or woman applies to join the society, he or she is at first employed at wages, and at some trade. "We will employ and pay you as long as we need your labor," the council says in such a case; "if after a while you are thoroughly satisfied that this is the best life, and if we approve of you, we will take you in." It is not necessary that the new-comer should bring money with him; but if he has means, he is required to put them into the common treasury, for he must believe that "all selfish accumulation is wrong, contrary to God's law and to natural laws."
Occasionally, I was told, they have had as members idle or drunken men. Such are admonished of their wrong courses; and if they are incorrigible, they always, I was assured, leave the place. "An idler or dissolute person has not the sympathies of our people; he has no connection with the industries of the society; as he does not work, he can hardly be so brazen as to ask for supplies. The practical result is that presently he disappears from among us."
"Do you have no disagreements from envy or jealousy among you," I asked Dr. Keil; who replied, "Very seldom now; the people have been too long and too thoroughly trained; they are too well satisfied of the wisdom of our plan of life; they are practiced in self-sacrifice, and know that selfishness is evil and the source of unhappiness. In the early days we used sometimes to have trouble. Thus a man would say, 'I brought money into the society, and this other man brought none; why should he have as much as I;' but my reply was, 'Here is your money—take it; it is not necessary; but while you remain, remember that you are no better than he.' Again, another might say, 'My labor brings one thousand dollars a year to the society, his only two hundred and fifty;' but my answer was, 'Thank God that he made you so much abler, stronger, to help your brother; but take care lest your poorer brother do not some day have to help you, when you are crippled, or ill, or disabled.'"
The children who have in these years, since 1844, grown up in the community generally remain. I spoke with a number of men who had thus passed all but their earliest years in the society, and who were content. Men sometimes return, repentant, after leaving the society. "The boys and girls know that they can leave at any time; there is no compulsion upon any one; hence no one cares to go. But they generally see that this is the best place. We are as prosperous and as happy as any one; we have here all we need."
As all work for the common good, so all are supplied from the common stores. I asked the purchasing agent about the book-keeping of the place; he replied, "As there is no trading, few accounts are needed. Much of what we raise is consumed on the place, and of what the people use no account is kept. Thus, if a family needs flour, it goes freely to the mill and gets what it requires. If butter, it goes to the store in the same way. We need only to keep account of what we sell of our own products, and of what we buy from abroad, and these accounts check each other. When we make money, we invest it in land." Further, I was told that tea, coffee, and sugar are roughly allowanced to each family.
Each family has either a house, or apartments in one of the large houses. Each has a garden patch, and keeps chickens; and every year a number of pigs are set apart for each household, according to its number. These are fed with the leavings of the table, and are fattened and killed in the winter, and salted down. Fresh beef is not commonly used. If any one needs vegetables, he can get them in the large garden. There seemed to be an abundance of good plain food every where.
Originally, and until 1872, all the property stood in Dr. Keil's name; but in that year he, finding himself growing old, and urged too, I imagine, by some of the leading men, made a division of the whole estate, and gave a title-deed to each head of a family of a suitable piece of property—to a farmer a farm, to a carpenter a house and shop, and so on. If there was any heart-burning over this division, I could not hear of it; and it appears to have made no difference in the conduct of the society, which labors on as before for the common welfare.
I asked, "What, then, if you have divided all the property, will you do for the young people as they grow up?"
Dr. Keil replied, "Dear me!—in the beginning we had nothing, now we have a good deal: where did it all come from? We earned and saved it. Very well; we are working just the same—we shall go on earning money and laying it by for those who are growing up; we shall have enough for all." I give below some further details, which I elicited from Dr. Keil, preferring to give them in the form of questions and answers:
Question. I have noticed that when young girls grow up they usually manifest a taste for ribbons and finery. How do you manage with such cases?
Answer. Well, they get what they want. They have only to ask at the supply store; only if they go too far—if it amounts to vanity—they are admonished that they are not acting according to the principles of love and temperance; they are putting undue expense on the society; they are making themselves different from their neighbors. It is not necessary to say this, however, for our people are now all trained in sound principles, and there is but little need for admonition.
Q. But suppose such a warning as you speak of were not taken?
A. Well, then they have leave to go into the world. If they want to be like the world, that is the place for them. And don't you see that if they are so headstrong and full of vanity they would not stay with us anyhow? They would not feel at home with us.
Q. Suppose one of your young men has the curiosity to see the world, as young men often have?
A. We give him money; he has only to ask the council. We say to him:
"You want to live in the world; well, you must earn your own living there; here is money, however, for your journey." And we give him according to his character and worth in the society.
Q. Suppose a young man wanted to go to college?
A. If any one of our people wanted to train himself in some practical knowledge or skill for the service of the community, and if he were a proper person in stability of character and capacity, we would send him, and support him while he was learning. This we have repeatedly done. In such cases our experience is that when such young men return to us they bring back, not only all the money we have advanced for their support, but generally more besides. Suppose, for instance, one wanted to learn how to dye woolens; we would give him sufficient means to learn his calling thoroughly. But he would probably soon be receiving wages; and, as our people are economical, he would lay aside from his wages most likely more even than we had advanced him; and this he would be proud to bring into the common treasury on his return. [Dr. Keil gave me several instances of such conduct; and then proceeded, with a contemptuous air.] But if a young man wants to study languages, he may do so here, as much as he likes—no one will object; but if he wanted to go to college for that—well, we don't labor here to support persons in such undertakings, which have no bearing on the general welfare of the society.