I should pine like an imprisoned bird, and I fear I should grow blind to the visions of loveliness and glory which the future promises to humanity.

I long for action which shall realize the prophecies, fulfil the Apocalypse, bring the new Jerusalem down from heaven to earth, and collect the faithful into a true and holy brotherhood.

To attain this consummation so devoutly to be wished, I would eat no flesh, I would drink no wine while the world lasted.

I would become as devoted an ascetic as yourself, my dear Isaac.

But to what end is all speculation, all dreaming, all questioning, but to advance humanity, to bring forward the manifestation of the Son of God?
Oh, for men who feel this idea burning into their bones! When shall we see them?
And without them, what will be phalanxes, groups and series, attractive industry, and all the sublime words of modern reforms?
"When will you come back to Brook Farm?
Can you do without us?
Can we do without you?
But do not come as an amateur, a self-perfectionizer, an aesthetic self-seeker, willing to suck the orange of Association dry and throw away the peel.