CHAPTER 4

                                                                          UNPARDONABLE SINS:

                                    ORESTES BROWNSON'S CONVERSION TO ANTI-FOURIERISM

 

                                                                                                 I.

               In the early 1840s, Orestes Brownson used the pages of his Boston Quarterly Review to voice friendly criticism of the American Fourierist movement.  While Brownson never endorsed the Associationist platform, he openly sympathized with many of its goals.  Well before 1840, the year Brisbane began his propaganda campaign, Brownson's social theories had already paralleled Fourier's in several respects.  As early as 1829, Brownson had expressed sympathy for his friend Fanny Wright's aborted experiment in communitarianism at Nashoba; Wright had proposed interracial marriage and even a redefinition of the marriage institution itself.  Brownson came to advocate "a radical reform of the American people themselves"[1]; the failure of Nashoba and other Owenite experiments of the 1820s inspired him to look for alternatives.  In 1836, Brownson set forth his program for universal reform in New Views of Christianity, Society, and the Church.  Despite the title's conscious echo of Owen's A New View of Society, Brownson was more dir­ectly indebted to the spiritualized socialism of Saint-Simon's Nouveau Chris­tianisme (1825), as reworked by Saint-Simon's dis­ciple Prosper Enfantin.  In its attempt to meld Christian and socialist ide­ologies,  New Views anticipated similar efforts by French and American Associ­ationists of the 1840s. 

               Brownson's most famous essay, "The Laboring Classes" (1840), elaborated the New Views platform through an economic critique of society that bore striking similarities to Fourier's (Schlesinger, A Pilgrim's Progress 96-99).  Four years later, in an account of the evolution of his radical thought, Brownson explained that he had once hoped that communitarian reforms would make class warfare completely unnecessary.  In this new society, laborers would also be capitalists; therefore, they would be assured of a fair share of the profits, and would have an interest in making their work "pleasant and attractive."  As Brownson notes, his solution was remarkably similar to Fourier's plan for "Association and Attractive Industry," and he claimed "to have seized all the great principles of the practical part of Fourierism, long before Fourier's name was heard of in this country" ("No Church, No Reform" 177).  While Fourierism had no apparent effect upon the development of Brownson's social thought prior to 1840, he was favorably inclined towards Brisbane's campaign in its first two years.

               In 1842, however, at about the same time that Brownson began to lose faith in the New Views program, his criticism of the Fourierists grew less friendly and more strident.  By 1844, the year of his conversion to Catholicism, he had become Fourierism's fiercest opponent in America, charging that the social movement was literally the devil's work.  Brownson's belligerence stood the test of time: the narrator of his 1854 novel The Spirit-Rapper concluded that Fourierists, mesmerists, women's rights advocates, and the European revolutionaries of 1848 had all been part of a Satanic "grand conspiracy to overthrow Christianity and the social order" (Guarneri 353).

               How are we to account for Brownson's relatively rapid change in attitude towards Fourierism?  Strangely, this question has never received much attention before, even though Brownson wrote eight essays on Fourierism in the four years between the publication of "The Laboring Classes" and his conversion, the period of his life that has received the most critical attention.[2]  But the relative neglect of Brownson's feud with the Fourierists is not wholly without cause.  In the 1850's, Brownson downplayed Fourierism's influence on his thought, and after The Spirit-Rapper, he had little more to say about the movement.  His 1857 autobiography The Convert, for example, discussed at length the influence of Owen and Saint-Simon on the evolution of his thought, but did not mention Fourier by name.[3]  Finally, because Brownson's cri­tique of Fourierism—which predated his conversion by two years—insisted upon the inseparability of his theological and socio­political thought, it has largely resisted ideo­logical pigeonholing.[4]

               The fact that Brownson continued to write about Fourierism for years after his conversion suggests another, less forgivable, reason to ignore these articles.  In her valuable dissertation, Patricia O'Connell Killen has noted the "bifurcation" of approach typical of Brownson scholarship.  Some overly partisan Catholic scholars (joined, one might add, by some overly zealous conservatives) have devalued Brownson's pre-conversion writings, while some secular scholars have discounted Brownson's post-conversion writings for similar reasons.  Killen astutely notes that each camp's prejudices "reduc[e] Brownson's significance as a thinker even before the discussion begins" (2-3).  As Brownson's own critique of Fourierism—before and after his conversion—insisted upon the inseparability of his theological and sociopolitical thought, reductionists in either camp might have difficulty explaining why Browson's animus predated his conversion by two years.[5]

               But I would not argue that every scholar who ignored Brownson's feud with the Fourierists was motivated by blind partisanship; such a paranoid claim would be worthy of Fourier himself.  Reasonable hypotheses can easily be constructed: for example, critics may have dismissed Brownson's change of heart as yet another of the about-faces for which he was famous.  Even in the Transcendentalist circle, where the hobgoblin of consistency was generally scorned, no one had made as many stops as Brownson the "ecclesiastical recidivist" had in his Wanderjahre (Swift 246).  Similarly, Brownson continually shifted his philosophical worldview.  In the BosQR and later in John O'Sullivan's Democratic Review, he had advocated several of the latest French intellectual fashions, only to turn against them later: from Benjamin Constant to Saint-Simon to Victor Cousin to Cousin's most adamant critic, Pierre Leroux.  If Brownson had briefly flirted with Fourierism, then perhaps he had simply grown tired of it.  And once the feud began, the Fourierists gave Brownson sufficient reason to take it personally.  Brownson was frequently rebuked for his alleged misinterpretations of Associationist doctrine; in 1844, one of The Phalanx's editors (probably Parke Godwin) called Brownson "ignorant" and "malignant."[6]  Such sniping, combined with Brownson's consititutional propensity to repudiate his former positions, may well have made his counterattacks more vitriolic.  But while this explanation is plausible, it does not account for his sustaining the anti-Fourierist offensive for a full decade, several years after virtually every American phalanx had failed. 

               Another reasonable hypothesis, that Brownson's repudiation of Fourierism was the natural result of his conversion, is not supported by the chronology.  This is not to say that his repudiation and his conversion were wholly independent events, for Catholics of the 1840s had sufficient cause to reject the utopian theory.  Like Saint-Simon, Fourier had been a harsh critic of organized religion in general, and of the Roman Church in particular.  While he had made no systematic ideological critique of institutional Christianity, he had frequently noted Catholicism's crucial role in perpetuating social injustices.  These attacks did not escape notice: the Church placed Fourier's Nouveau Monde Industriel on the Index Librorum Prohibitorum in January 1835.[7]  Had Fourier's parodies of Catholic doctrine in the suppressed manuscript of Le Nouveau Monde Amoreux been known, Catholic opposition to Fourierism would undoubtedly have been even stronger.[8]  Many of Fourier's disciples shared his dislike of institutional religion.  For example, Victor Considerant made no effort to conceal his anti-clericalism in Destinée sociale.[9]  In September 1836, this popular and influential treatise—an important source, as the title suggests, for Brisbane's Social Destiny of Man—was also placed on the Index.[10]

               Nevertheless, the mutual hostilities between French Catholics and French Fourierists were counterbalanced by mutual attractions.  Jean-Baptiste Duroselle and Henri Desroche have shown that in the years before 1848, many individuals declared simultaneous passions for Fourierism and Catholicism.  Some Fourierists converted to Catholicism without renouncing Fourier, while some Catholics became Fourierists without leaving the Church.[11]  In the years after Brownson's conversion, the journals of the American Associationists reported the transatlantic efforts to reconcile Catholicism and Fourierism.[12]  Doctrinal differences notwithstanding, the existence of Catholic Fourierists in Catholic France is not surprising.  It is bizarre, however, that the Transcendentalists of post-Calvinist New England were also subject to this dual attraction, especially since neither the Church nor the social movement had played a major role in New England intellectual life prior to the 1840s. 

               Brownson's writings suggest that his conversion to Catholicism was not simply the cause, but also in part the consequence, of his rejection of Fourierism.  The attempt to understand Brownson's response to Fourierism is important not only because it sheds light on the relationship between his theological and his sociopolitical writings, but also because it helps to explain the Transcendentalist interest in "catholicity." 

 

                                                                                                II. 

               Like many other Americans of the 1840s, Brownson's BosQR insisted upon the interconnectedness of reform efforts in the spiritual and material realms.  But his earliest published discussions of Fourierism examined the visionary plan almost exclusively from a pragmatic materialist perspective.  Brownson's first mention of Fourier is found in a January 1840 editorial, published six months before "The Laboring Classes."  In setting forth his vision of an America in which social inequality no longer existed, in which "the relations of master and slave, and of proprietor and workman, or employer and employed, shall be unknown," Brownson admitted that this vision might be dismissed as a "Utopian dream."  He feared that some would even regard him as "insane, fit only for a madhouse" for announcing the coming of new social order.  He further acknowledged that he knew of no way to realize this ideal, as he balanced proto-Marxist yearnings for social reform with conservative fears of "strife":

 

                              I have no plan of a world-reform for you to adopt, for I have not yet found one that I could adopt for myself.  I have paid some attention to the schemes of world-reformers, from Plato down to Robert Owen and M. Fourier, but none of them seem to me of any great value.  ("Introductory Statement" 16-17)

Brownson knew of Fourier almost a year before Brisbane began his propaganda campaign, at a time when only a handful of Americans had heard of the utopian theory (Guarneri 31-32).  This knowledge was probably gleaned from his reading of the Saint-Simonians.[13]  Despite his preemptive dismissal, Brownson was searching for a world-reform program remarkably similar to Fourier's.  Brownson believed that a society properly modelled upon the "elements" of "human nature" would achieve "the most perfect state to which the human race can aspire" ("Introductory" 18-19).

               Given this shared goal, it is understandable that Brownson responded favorably to Brisbane's propaganda campaign.  Brownson's brief review of Social Destiny of Man (January 1841) unreservedly recommended Brisbane's book as being of "extreme interest" to reformers.  This review was written in the aftermath of one of the most fiercely ideological elections in American history: as virtually every Brownson scholar has noted, he was bitterly disillusioned by the Democratic defeat and by what he perceived as the irresponsibility of the electorate.  By 1843, he would even proclaim the failure of American democracy itself.[14]  But in 1841, Brownson was not yet that pessimistic.  Instead, he grew more sympathetic to the Fourierists' argument that political reforms could not succeed without a fundamental social reform.  In the review, he praised Brisbane for distinguishing social from political evils:

 

                              The state is the mere agent of society, and will always be what the will of society ordains.  If society be right, if its institutions be founded in justice, the state will be just and beneficent; if society be wrong, founded on false principles, and sustained by unequal, and therefore unjust, institutions, it is in vain, that you seek to reform your government, or perfect its administration.  (rev. of SDM, 127-28)

In the same review, Brownson argued that Fourierist communitarianism, because it affirmed the right to individual property, was more realistic (!) than Owenite communism.   As investors in the Phalanx were to receive a handsome return, capitalists need not feel threatened.  Therefore, Fourierism might be able to reconcile class interests peacefully, solving the dilemma outlined in "The Laboring Classes."  Brownson closed by blessing Brisbane's efforts to spread the Fourierist gospel and wishing him success (128-129).

               Six months later, however, this praise was abruptly withdrawn.  Brownson's "Social Evils, and their Remedy" (BosQR, July 1841) marked the beginning of a long and eventually acrimonious debate.  While the perspective of "Social Evils" was essentially secular, its thesis anticipated Brownson's later theological critiques.  Too many of the nation's would-be reformers, he argued, had made the error of "contemplat[ing] a perfection, to which neither human nature nor human society can attain."  Fourier's "scheme of passional harmonies," as presented by Brisbane, was guilty of this naive perfectionism ("SE&TR" 265, 268-269).  In Brownson's view, there was an insuperable flaw in human nature, overlooked by Fourier, that made moral perfection unattainable.  A particular passion could not be gratified "without thwarting another"—benevolence and acquisitiveness, for example, were contrary impulses that could never be completely reconciled.  While granting Fourier's claim that the end of each passion is a good, Brownson argued that the "disharmony" of any individual's competing passions "can never be entirely overcome" (269); thus, the passions alone are not sufficient to regulate human conduct:

 

                              The harmony of the passions, so far as attainable, is to be obtained not by gratifying the desires of each, but by denying to each its special gratification, whenever its special gratification would lead to disorder, either in the bosom of the individual or that of society; that is, by following the Christian rule, deny thyself, which we shall find but poorly substituted by Mr. Fourier's rule,—please thyself. . . . But in all self-denial there is antagonism.  ("SE&TR" 269-270)

Such philosophical objections to Fourierism led Brownson closer to the traditional Christian doctrine of Original Sin and the concomitant assertion of "self-denial" as duty.  (This potent argument can be restated in psychoanalytic terms, if allowances are made for the incongruity of the Freudian and Christian worldviews: the submission of every individual to the pleasure principle would lead to chaos; therefore, a certain degree of repression is necessary to maintain social order.)  Yet in denying the trustworthiness of the passions, Brownson was not retreating into seventeenth-century Calvinist orthodoxy.  In New Views, he had already rejected the doctrine of "hereditary total depravity" and, waxing Transcendental, had found "divinity in humanity, and humanity in divinity" (WOAB 4:37, 4:34).  Brownson would later reaffirm this radical perfectionism in a January 1842 BosQR article, "Church of the Future."  Nevertheless, Brownson's rejection of the Fourierist conception of human nature may well have eventually led him to question the similar positions he had expressed in New Views. 

               Brisbane responded to Brownson's essay in uncharacteristically indiscreet fashion.  In Social Destiny of Man (1840) and most of his subsequent propaganda efforts, Brisbane had been careful not to draw attention to the contradictions between Fourierism and Christian orthodoxy.  But Brisbane's October 1841 letter to the BosQR not only admitted that Fourier rejected the orthodox Christian doctrine of original sin, but praised the Master for doing so.  Thus, evil existed only because humans did not understand the divine plan (497-498); the "fall" of Man "was in the social or political world . . . not in his organic nature" (507).

               In retrospect, Brisbane's admission of Fourierism's heterodoxy may seem like a major strategic blunder.  However, he may well have calculated that he could speak frankly in Brownson's reformist journal, given that its editor, and many of its readers, were theological liberals.  Indeed, Brownson's immediate response was to temper his criticism.  In an endnote to Brisbane's letter, he reiterated his reservations about Fourier's conception of human nature, but added praise for Brisbane's "zeal in the cause of social reform."  Brownson then endorsed several planks of the Associationists' platform.  Furthemore, he even claimed to have "advocated [attractive industry] in our own writings years before we had heard of Mr. Fourier," avowing his "full and decided conviction, that a system of attractive industry, must embrace the principle of association . . . ."  However, he refused to endorse the entire Fourierist plan, and saw no necessity in working to establish new communities: "It seems to us that when the world is ripe for them, they will form themselves, spontaneously as it were.  They must come, whenever they do come, as the necessary development of that which immediately precedes" ("Letter from Mr. Brisbane" [Brownson's note], 512).  Brownson's response was mildly Marxist avant la lettre in its emphasis upon the similarity between chattel slavery and wage slavery and, more significantly, in setting forth this theory of historical necessity.  (Fourier also saw the transition from "Civilization" to Harmony as inevitable, but he believed that human effort could hasten the transformation.)  With this proclamation of faith in the inevitability of utopia, Brownson proposed to set aside the reform debate.  He believed that the reform question would eventually answer itself. 

               It would be an exaggeration to call the Brownson of 1841 a Fourierist fellow-traveler, but he was a friendly critic of the movement.  He took pains to express his sympathy for Associationists and noted the beliefs he shared with them.  Brownson even "wish[ed] all success" to prospective phalansterians and promised to do "all in our power" to aid them ("Letter from Mr. Brisbane" [Brownson's note] 512).  Accordingly, he ran another article by Brisbane in the April 1842 BosQR, an exposition of some of the less-controversial economic elements of Associationism that covered much the same ground as Brisbane's New York Tribune columns.

               But the cordial entente was short-lived.  By the time he published Brisbane's article, Brownson had already fallen under the influence of another French socialist, the former Saint-Simonian Pierre Leroux, author of De l'Humanité (1840).  From Leroux's doctrine of "solidarity"—summarized by Guarneri as "a mystical bond of divine life link[ing] persons throughout time and space, demonstrating both the interdependence of humanity and the reality of racial progress" (55)—Brownson would develop an idiosyncratic philosophical system that he would later use to justify his conversion.  This worldview would take several years to ripen, however.  In fact, his article for the July 1842 BosQR, "Leroux on Humanity," expressed anti-Catholic sentiments.  Brownson argued that the confusion of Christianity with Roman Catholicism had been among the "follies" of the Saint-Simonians and approvingly cited a Saint-Simonian leader's claim that the nouveau christianisme would "rule the future more completely . . . even than Catholicism ruled the middle ages" ("Leroux" 259; qtd., 260).

               Leroux's book had a more direct effect upon Brownson: it made him increasingly critical of Fourierism.  According to Brownson, Leroux held that no man could exist outside of his context, no "me" without a "not-me."  Furthermore, the Whitmanesque "communion" of the "me" and the "not-me" was necessary for human happiness.  Leroux believed that this communion was facilitated by existing social institutions.  Brownson seconded Leroux's statement that the institutions of family and country allowed the individual to commune with the rest of the race, as well as Leroux's more problematic claim that the institution of private property facilitated the individual's communion with nature ("Leroux" 283-285).  Having accepted Leroux's trinity of institutions—family, country, property—Brownson immediately shifted into an attack upon "zealous world-reformers" who sought to destroy one of these institutions.  Among those he attacked were the Owenite opponents of private property, the anarchical "New England non-resistants," and the Associationist enemies of family values.  Brownson argued that the Fourierists unjustly criticized the institution of marriage, proposed to liberalize the divorce laws, and advocated replacing individual households with the phalanx.  Interestingly, Brownson included the communitarianism of his former ally Fanny Wright in the same anti-family charge ("Leroux" 285-286).  For the first time, Brownson's critique of Fourier was bound up with a overt critique of his own former positions.  A similar self-critique can be found later in the essay: Brownson, one of the earliest members of the Transcendentalist circle, argued that the "self-culture" of the Transcendentalists promoted a selfish individualism opposed to all forms of "communion" ("Leroux" 292-293).  Such claims suggest that Leroux's primary effect upon Brownson was to restore his faith in traditional social institutions.  In "Leroux on Humanity" and subsequent essays, Brownson would simultaneously criticize the anti-institutional tendencies of the Fourierists and the Transcendentalists.

               In September 1842, having negotiated an agreement to write for John O'Sullivan's Democratic Review, Brownson discontinued the BosQR.  November saw the publication of his first Democratic Review article, "Brook Farm."[15]  Despite the growing influence of Leroux on his thought, Brownson continued to champion much of the Fourierists' agenda.  For example, he still identified social inequality as the era's most serious problem, he still believed that the clergy's advice to seek happiness in the hereafter did not excuse humanity from its responsibility to strive for justice in this world, and he still argued that ethical, political, and economic reforms were only limited solutions ("Brook Farm" 481-486).  He praised Brook Farm as a paradigm for a new type of social institution.  The anomie brought on by industrial capitalism could not be cured, he argued, by eliminating the social institutions deemed useful by Leroux (Brownson had added a fourth institution, the church, to Leroux's list).  Instead, communities like Brook Farm should supplement the work of traditional institutions by bridging the chasm between public, private, and spiritual lives.  Brownson's rhetoric waxed mystical: "the community [is] more than an aggregation of families, it is a one body [sic], has life and unity of its own; but is, after all, like the family, a member of the larger whole" ("Brook Farm" 489).  Brownson believed that Brook Farm could evolve into a fifth type of institution, one that would promote the solidarity of the race without threatening the family.

               Even as he celebrated the West Roxbury community's potential to effect social reform, Brownson dismissed Associationism as "mechanical."  He argued that while Brook Farm was a "living organism," Fourier's phalanx was nothing but a "huge machine" ("Brook Farm" 488), a formulation that echoed "Fourierism and the Socialists," Emerson's Dial essay published four months earlier.  In drawing theological conclusions from assumptions that closely paralleled Emerson's, Brownson became one of the first Americans to attack socialism for its godlessness[16]:

 

                              Of Fourier I must speak with some diffidence, not having as yet been able to submit to the drudgery of fully mastering his system. . . .  [H]is metaphysics, though broad and comprehensive, are often unsound; and his theodicea, or theodicy, is, if we understand it, nothing but material pantheism, a polite name for atheism.  He denies, at least according to his able and indefatigable American interpreter, Mr. Brisbane, the progress of humanity, and proceeds on the assumption of that greatest of all absurdities, the perfection of nature.  (487)

Given Brownson's prose style, any book that drove him to complain about "drudgery" certainly must have deserved the charge.  Atheism was a more serious accusation, however, one that could not be ignored. 

               Upon the publication of "Brook Farm," Brownson's heretofore friendly debate with the Fourierists began to turn bitter.   O'Sullivan, who apparently wanted to retain amicable relations with the social movement,[17] printed letters from two Fourierists in rebuttal of the new contributor's charge.  Both correspondents were less interested in the "mechanical" aspects of Fourierism.  The first, Charles Julius Hempel, argued that Brownson's professed ignorance should discredit all his complaints, and announced that his forthcoming book on Swedenborg and Fourier would prove that Fourierism was not "practical atheism" but "living Christianity"[18].  Yet Hempel did not want to alienate Brownson completely, and invited him to assist the Associationists in searching for the best way to put Fourier's theories into practice ("Protest" 648).  A second letter, from the Irish Fourierist Hugh Doherty, editor of The London Phalanx, also rejected Brownson's specific charges as "absolutely erroneous."  Like Hempel, Doherty offered back-handed praise to Brownson for his independent discovery of Fourierism's most important elements, despite his complete failure to comprehend Fourierist theory.[19]  In noting the probable cause of Brownson's misreading, Doherty obliquely criticized the leader of the American Fourierists: "[Brisbane] confine[d] himself almost exclusively to the exposition of the practical parts of Fourier's views, not being conversant with all the various doctrines of Divinity in Christendom"  (321).  Like Hempel, Doherty had studied the writings of both Fourier and Swedenborg;[20] both disciples were undoubtedly annoyed with "the thoroughly secular version of Fourier" set forth in Brisbane's publications (Guarneri 116).

               Brownson's response was prompt.  In "The Community System," published in the February 1843 Democratic Review (two months after Hempel's letter and one month before Doherty's), he used Leroux's metaphysics to develop a more rounded critique of Fourierism.  His first assertion was that any communitarian system should be judged by comparing it "to the first principles of human nature," "the essential, permanent, and indestructible nature of man" ("Community System" 129).  Following Leroux, Brownson postulated that man exists not only as an individual, but also as part of the genus "humanity," the transcendental idea of man: "Man's existence is then to be contemplated as Ideal and Actual, and Ideal and Actual answer precisely to his existence as the kind, and as an individual" (129).  Because "[h]umanity is in some sort itself an individual," each person has a "two-fold being" and a "two-fold life" (130, 131).

               Unlike the Transcendentalist version of this tale, the "One Man" fable of "The American Scholar," Brownson stressed that the fable was more than a fable, that the "transcendental" unity of humanity had "real" consequences:  "It is on [the unity of humanity] that society rests for its basis; and it is from this unity that society derives its power and its right to found the State, to institute civil government, and to demand and even enforce the obedience of its members" ("Community System" 131).  Brownson eloquently argued that the ideal society must allow both human natures to flourish concurrently, rather than cultivating one at the other's expense:

 

                              Community without Individuality is tyranny, the fruits of which are oppression, degradation, and immobility, the synonym of death.  Individuality without community, is Individualism, the fruits of which are dissolution, isolation, selfishness, war; which again attains to death on the opposite side. . . .  What we need, then, is not Communism, nor Individualism, the two forms in which the principle manifests itself, but Community and Individuality harmonized, or as we may say, atoned.  ("Community System" 134)

Unfortunately, Brownson continued, all communities to date were flawed, "if the establishment at Brook Farm be excepted," because "the ruling thought is Community for the sake of Community, not Community for the sake of Individuality" (135).  Brownson's argument took an even more mystical turn as he argued that for a community to nurture individuality, it must provide its members with the social institutions that provide opportunities for Leroux's "communion" with other people, with God, and with nature.     From this defense of existing social institutions, Brownson repeated his earlier attack upon the communitarian theories that proposed their eradication.  Once again he singled out communitarian theories that would modify or eradicate the institution of marriage.  Brownson argued that love, while undoubtedly the most desirable foundation for a marriage, was not necessarily exclusive; therefore, it could not replace marriage as the basis of the family.  If society were to implement this misguided reform, he predicted disastrous results: "[W]e should render the family indefinite, which would be seeking to realize the indefinite in the indefinite,—a mistake no less fatal than that of seeking to realize the definite in the definite" ("Community System" 139).  To recast this abstract argument in blunter terms, Brownson was arguing that if Love were to become the basis of the family, then the resultant communal orgy would dilute, if not destroy, family identity.  Any modification of existing divorce laws, he concluded, would "dissipate the domestic life and affections, the household virtues, and therefore defeat the very end for which the family exists" (140).

               While this argument was not directed specifically against the Fourierists, Brownson levelled another charge against them later in the essay.  Even as he again conceded the need for an communitarian institution modelled upon Brook Farm to bridge the "too great" distance "between the Family and the Nation," he simultaneously warned against utopian attempts to replace the institution of the state.  If Fourier's plan were adopted, the abolition of the state would lead to disruption of trade between communities, thus decreasing both material wealth and the feeling of universal unity (143-144).  By implication, the Fourierist movement was a potential threat to the government of the United States.[21] 

               The charge was unwarranted: in fact, Fourier had made consi­derable (albeit fanciful) plans for regional, national, and world government.  But whatever deficiencies there were in Brownson's knowledge of socialist literature, he now knew enough to argue that Fourierism was wildly irrational:  "Do these disciples anticipate that . . . they can grow rice and cotton on our granite cliffs of New England, and enable the polar bear to luxuriate under the equator?" ("Community System" 144) 

               For some time, "The Community System" appeared to be Brownson's last word on Fourierism, if not on communitarianism in general.  Indeed, he did not return to either subject in his published writings between February 1843 and April 1844.[22]  On the other hand, despite his total rejection of Fourierism, he continued to read the literature of the movement, and even continued to correspond with Brisbane.[23]  At least one advocate of social reform was dismayed.  In the 15 October 1843 issue of his new journal, The Present, William Henry Channing called the late BosQR "the best journal this country ever produced" and praised the further evolution of Brownson's thought in his Democratic Review articles.  But Channing, who was rapidly growing closer to the Fourierist camp (as evidenced by the translation from Destinée sociale appearing in the same issue), said that "the present state of the public mind" called for "a full exhibition of Mr. Brownson's views of Communities."[24] 

               Brownson's silence on the subject of Fourierism can be at least partially explained by the spiritual crisis he was undergoing.  In "The Community System," he had forsaken the critique of historical Christianity, the central thesis of New Views, and had begun to advocate the necessity of the Church as a social institution.  However, he was still uncertain which Christian sect would be "the" Church to realize the transcendental unity of Humanity.  It would have been understandable if this search had crowded further consideration of Fourierism out of his life.  Surprisingly, the opposite occured.  As Brownson became increasingly preoccupied with his quest for the true Church, he returned to his critique of Fourierism.  In 1844, the year of his conversion, he wrote three separate articles on the subject for Brownson's Quarterly Review.

               As early as the fall of 1843, Brownson had come to see communitarianism in general, and Fourierism in particular, as a false alternative to the "true Church."  He was not alone: in the letters he exchanged with Isaac Hecker in late 1843 and early 1844, both correspondents fervently insisted upon this fundamental opposition.  For example, Brownson expressed relief when his young friend had decided to forsake Brook Farm and Fruitlands for his home:[25]

 

                              These Communities after all are humbugs.  We must rehabilitate the Church, and work under its direction.  Brisbane has been here lecturing, and has produced no sensation.  Fourierism will not take with us, and Brisbane will not recommend it.  (Brownson to Hecker, 2 Sept. 1843, B-H 66)

Brownson had not yet determined which "Church" was to be rehabilitated; elsewhere in the same letter, he denied his intention to "g[o] over to the Roman Catholics."  But by now, he was disenchanted with Brook Farm, which he had associated with Brisbane and the Fourierists several months before the community's official "conversion."  Hecker, who continued to follow the communitarians' activities closely,[26] came to agree that Fourierism was humbuggery.  He argued that the "Church movement" was "of infinite more importance . . . than these personal, social, and political reforms, it being the soul centre of all life, and reform" (Hecker to Brownson, 16 Oct. 1843; B-H 74).  In his reply, Brownson voiced his objections to Channing's attempts to found a universal church, the same institu­tion young Brownson had advocated in New Views:

 

                              [Channing's] theory of Christian union is beautiful, nay true; but he will fail.  For to succeed he must institute a New Church, and to do that he must be a New Christ, and even greater than Christ. . . .  The principle of union, he says, is love, nothing more true.  Therefore, if you love, you will all be one, nothing again more true.  But, the precise difficulty is men do not love, and it is because they do not love that they are alienated, and divided. . . .  So far from seeking Christian love as the basis of the union of the Church, we must seek the unity of the Church as the condition of creating Christian love.  These Unitarians are exceedingly suspicious.  They worship the means. . . .  They do not believe in the Mediator.  (Brownson to Hecker, 8 Nov. 1843; B-H 76)

Channing's vision of the unity of humanity—the nineteenth-century equivalent of a Saatchi & Saatchi commercial for British Airways—was not deficient, Brownson argued.  Rather, it was hopelessly utopian, for "men do not love."  In Brownson's view, such a society could only be achieved through the mediation of the Church, the institution founded by the ultimate "Mediator."  Although Brownson's thought was still clearly marked by Leroux's influence, such an argument represented a fundamental break with the worldview of De l'Humanité.  As A. Robert Caponigri has noted, the pantheist Leroux found the divine beneficence in all the religions of humanity, while Brownson insisted upon the uniqueness of the Providential God-Man and the Church that he had founded (Caponigri 107-111). 

               Although Brownson's letter to Hecker also included a lukewarm recommendation of the Episcopal Church—"If I was in it I would not go out of it; but being as I am I cannot go in it" (B-H 76)—its theology was unmistakably Catholic.  His argument not only foreshadows his conversion but also helps to explain its connection with his rejection of Transcendentalism.  Brownson came to believe that Emersonian self-reliance, in its insistence upon a direct, unmediated relationship between Man and God, was the ne plus ultra of Protestantism. 

 

                                                                                               III.

               But why would Brownson's rejection of Fourierism follow from the same theological premises that led to his rejection of Transcendentalism?  This question may best be answered by first posing another: what relationship did the Transcendentalists of the 1840s perceive between Catholicism and Fourierism? 

               Several of the Brook Farm Fourierists were fascinated by Catholicism, including W. H. Channing, the Ripleys, Hecker, John Sullivan Dwight, and Georgiana Bruce.  The Unitarian minister Channing was the first to express interest in Catholicism.  According to O. B. Frothingham's biography, Channing almost converted in 1835; his 1840 short story "Ernest the Seeker," serialized in the first two issues of The Dial, drew a sympathetic portrait of a convert to Catholicism who defended the Church from its Protestant critics.[27]   For most of the Brook Farmers, however, their interest in Catholicism peaked soon after their enthusiasm for Fourierism waned.  Sophia Ripley converted in 1847; Hecker, an 1844 convert, would become the most famous American priest of the nineteenth century.[28]  And in her social history of Transcendentalism, Anne C. Rose notes that at least two other Brook Farmers also converted (196n).

               What attracted some members of the Transcendentalist community to Catholicism?  Among other factors, Guarneri points to the Church's "mystery" (137).  Orthodox Unitarians believed that Jesus had performed miracles to prove his divine office.  Even though many Transcendentalists shared Emerson's disdain for this perceived trivialization of the miraculous, they had a thirst for sacred mysteries.  Indeed, the cabalistically inclined might interpret the Transcendentalist faith in "unity in variety" as a Unitarian reworking of Catholicism's central mystery, the unity-in-diversity of the Trinity.  (Channing would later borrow this famous phrase from Nature in making his case for a uni­versal Church to succeed Rome ["Unity in Catholicity in the Church"].)  Those attracted to "unity in variety" were likely to be William James's "decided monists," temperamentally inclined towards the One rather than the Many.  In their attempt to overcome metaphysical dualism, they could draw inspiration from another of Nature's theses, "Every natural fact is a symbol of some spiritual fact" (E&L 20).  In this sense, as F. O. Matthiessen suggested in American Renaissance, the Brook Farmers' original mission was to turn the Transcendental Ideal of "The Age of Swedenborg" into the natural fact of "The Age of Fourier" (viii).  The Brook Farmers may even be said to have taken Emerson's dictum one step further, turning the doctrine of correspondences into a moral imperative to leave no spiritual fact unmaterialized.  Per Sveino has usefully compared the Brook Farm community to the institutional Church, arguing that the former attempted the historical realization of the Transcendental Ideal, while the latter strives to realize the Christian Ideal in secular time (279). 

               As we have already seen, Leroux's defense of social institutions eventually inspired Brownson to attribute this latter function to the institutional Church.  But years earlier, the Unitarian Brownson had attributed the same function to his New Church (Sveino 278-279).  He had reaffirmed this position as late as 1842, in an essay written shortly before Leroux's influence began to pervade his thought:  "The church is the organization of mankind for the peaceable, orderly, and successful realization of the Christian Ideal, or the Ideal as beheld by the early followers of Jesus" ("Church of the Future" 5).  After declaring that no existing denomination had set its sights high enough and that all of them had fulfilled their historical mission, Brownson had repeated New Views's call for a "New Church" to realize the true Christian Ideal of Christ himself: "It shall become a really Catholic Church, a Church truly universal, and finally gather the vast family of man into one universal association" ("Church of the Future" 6, 24).

               Anticipating Channing, Brownson predicted that this "really Catholic Church" would replace Rome.  Furthermore, it had the same goal as Fourierism, "universal association."  Understandably, many students of the self-proclaimed science of "Universal Unity" would also be attracted to the literal "catholicity" of a Universal Church like Brownson's.  In "Unity in Catholicity in the Church," Channing would call for such a Church as a refuge from the "sectarian bondage" of the day.  He felt that his fellow Unitarians, by practicing their motto, "Holiness, Liberty, Love," could bring into being an institution in which all Christians would "be in living communion with the Divine Spirit," "live in relations of love with all men," and enjoy the freedom "to seek on all sides for manifestations of the Divine Will" ("Unity" 366-367).  Yet Channing's "catholicity," like Brownson's in New Views, was not bound by the past.  The religious liberty that Channing demanded from the universal Church would include each individual's freedom to reject or accept the creeds of past generations.  He specifically rejected the priesthood as an unnecessary "medium," as well as claims to legitimacy based upon "Ecclesiastical Organizations," "Bishops," and "Forms" (367).  Instead, Channing's definition of true Christianity as the "spirit of Humanity" combined the Transcendentalist and social reform platforms:

 

                              [This Spirit] worships no past creeds, but announces that every human being, every society of human beings, the Race at large is called to realize by experience the Mystery of God incarnating himself in Man.  It asks no stately cathedrals, and magnificent rites, and splendor of worship; but summons Christian nations to put away, once and forever, War, Slavery, Caste, Oppression, Inequality, Injustice, and every form of human degradation . . .; calls upon each Christian person to link hands with his neighbor in one grand coöperative effort to introduce the reign of Heaven, which is the Liberty of Love.  (366-367)

In accordance with these beliefs, Channing's "First Church of Humanity," founded the following year, simply required prospective members to pledge their commitment to "universal unity."[29]

               Certainly the quest for "catholicity" was not new to New England.  Channing's and Brownson's visions of a communal reform made possible by the faith of the community both echoed the founding text of American theological exceptionalism.  John Winthrop had also argued that an American society could only succeed if bonded by mutual love within the mystical body of Christ, "knitt together in this worke as one man" (198).  Even as mid-nineteenth-century New England Protestants followed the Puritans in demonizing Rome,[30] many of them regretted that the Reformation splintered of the Body of Christ into various sects, all competing for the claim to "catholicity."  Like Henry Adams at Chartres, American visitors to one of the great European cathedrals often used the occasion to mourn this lost unity.  Even Albert Brisbane said that the Strasbourg cathedral made him feel that Protestantism was "meager, and starved" (qtd., Guarneri 136-137).  As Guarneri, among others, has noted, such yearning for a paradise lost was reflected in Fourier's theory of history: Harmony was to be the complex restoration of an simple Edenic society that had lapsed into "Civilization."  Just as many Associationists searched for the return to Eden, they also sought to recapture the past unity of Christianity.  Most of them, including Brisbane, Channing, and Godwin, felt that Rome could not be the "true" Catholic Church, if only because the social conditions in Catholic countries proved that the Church was not an effective agent for social reform.[31]  However arbitrary the resemblances between Catholicism and Fourierism may seem in retrospect, it was a commonplace among many members of the Transcendentalist circle.  At the same time, many of them denied the "catholicity" of the Roman Catholic Church. 

               Just as the Associationists were generally opposed to the Roman Church, yet interested in it, Hecker felt a similar ambivalence towards Fourierism.  In an April 1844 letter to Brownson, he contended that Fourierism could play a useful role in spiritual reform, as its "doctrine of unity and diversity" was essentially "Catholicity in the industrial world" (B-H 91).  Even though he had already followed Brownson in rejecting Fourierism, he still found that the Brook Farm Phalanx had exerted a positive spiritual effect upon its residents:

 

                              It has rid them of their transcendentalism, of their protestantism and most of their pernicious results.  It seems to me I have greater hopes of Mr Ripley than I ever had.  He is now laboring on the results which the Catholic Church of Christ is destined to realize in time, not on the cause which only can do this. . . .  I firmly believe it will be the means of opening their eyes to those Catholic principles developed in the history of the Church. . . .  Ripley has spoken once or twice with an earnestness and enthusiasm very great.  This is his apprenticeship for the priesthood.[32]

While Hecker praised Fourier's other-reliant communitarianism for drawing the Brook Farmers away from Emersonian Transcendentalism's self-reliant "protestantism," he reassured Brownson that he did not "believe in the innumerable speculations of Fourier or that these men in their present movement will effect much by their plans" (B-H 91-92).  Brownson came to the same conclusion.  He argued that Fourierism, unlike the "True Church," was unable to transform its ideals into a material reality.  In effect, Brownson had appropriated Emerson's memorable one-liner, "Fourier had skipped no fact but one, namely, Life," and recast it in a Christian context: Fourier had skipped no fact but the Holy Spirit. 

               Despite their hope