sophic, free, and enlightened to a miracle, but far removed from the ardent dreams and soft credulity of the world's youth.
Sometimes I think I would give all our gains for those times when young and old gathered in the feudal hall, listening with soul-absorbing transport to the romance of the minstrel, unrestrained and regardless of criticism, and when they worshipped nature, not as high-dressed and pampered, but as just risen from the bath.
Cambridge, May 14, 1826.—I am studying Madame de Stael, Epictetus, Milton, Racine, and Castilian ballads, with great delight.
There's an assemblage for you. Now tell me, had you rather be the brilliant De Stael or the useful Edgeworth——though De Stael is useful too, but it is on the grand scale, on liberalizing, regenerating principles, and has not the immediate practical success that Edgeworth has. I met with a parallel the other day between Byron and Rousseau, and had a mind to send it to you, it was so excellent.
Cambridge, Jan. 10,<
I am glad, too, that you thought of lending me Bigelow's Elements.
I have studied the Architecture attentively, till I feel quite mistress of it all But I want more engravings, Vitruvius, Magna Graecia, the Ionian Antiquities, &c. Meanwhile, I have got out all our tours in Italy.
Forsyth, a book I always loved much, I have re-read with increased pleasure, by this new light.
Goethe, too, studied architecture while in Italy; so his books are full of interesting information; and Madame De Stael, though not deep, is tasteful.
Seriously, my mind is regenerating as to my country, for I am beginning to appreciate the United States and its great men. The violent antipathies,—the result of an exaggerated love for, shall I call it by so big a name as the poetry of being? —and the natural distrust arising from being forced to hear the conversation of half-bred men, all whose petty feelings were roused to awkward life by the paltry game of local politics,—are yiel<
But when we have learned the high lesson to deserve,—that boon of manhood,—we see they esteemed us too much, to give what we had not earned.
The following passages from her journal and her letters are sufficiently descriptive, each in its way, of her strong affections.
At Mr. G.'s we looked over prints, the whole evening, in peace.
Nothing fixed my attention so much as a large engraving of Madame Recamier in her boudoir.
I have so often thought over the intimacy between her and Madame De Stael.
It is so true that a woman may be in love with a woman, and a man with a man. I like to be sure of it, for it is the same love which angels feel, where—
Sie fragen nicht nach Mann und Weib.
It is regulated by the same law as that of love between persons of different sexes; only it is purely intellectual and spiritual.
Its law is the desire of the spirit to realize a whole, which makes it seek in another being what it finds not in itself.
Thus the beautiful seek the strong,<
oquent and industrious pen, not only through the columns of the New York Tribune, for a series of years, but in several literary works, still express her genius, and breathe her noble aspirations.
Woman in the Nineteenth Century, At home and abroad, Art, literature, and the drama, Life without and life within, embalm much of the mind of Margaret Fuller; but her wonderful power of conversation lives in memory alone.
It is said that there has been no woman like her in this respect since Madame de Stael; but while Margaret Fuller's conversation, in eloquence and effect, in sparkle and flow, was fully equal to that of the gifted French woman, it had, superadded, a merit which the latter could not claim.
There is hardly upon record one with her power to draw out others.
She not only talked surprisingly herself, but she made others do so. While talking with her they seemed to make discoveries of themselves, to wonder at their own thoughts, and to admire the force and aspiration of their
ancients, of Oriental Pantheists, of Plato and the Alexandrians, of Plutarch's Morals, Seneca and Epictetus; in part, the natural product of the culture of the place and time.
On the somewhat stunted stock of Unitarianism,—whose characteristic dogma was trust in individual reason as correlative to Supreme Wisdom,— had been grafted German Idealism, as taught by masters of most various schools,—by Kant and Jacobi, Fichte and Novalis, Schelling and Hegel, Schleiermacher and De Wette, by Madame de Stael, Cousin, Coleridge, and Carlyle; and the result was a vague yet exalting conception of the godlike nature of the human spirit.
Transcendentalism, as viewed by its disciples, was a pilgrimage from the idolatrous world of creeds and rituals to the temple of the Living God in the soul.
It was a putting to silence of tradition and formulas, that the Sacred Oracle might be heard through intuitions of the single-eyed and pure-hearted.
Amidst materialists, zealots, and sceptics, the Transce<
The fourth volume is saint Beuve's portraits of celebrated women.
Madame De Sevinge
Madame De La Fayette.
Madame De Souza.
Madame Dr Stael.
Madame De Duras.
Madame De Remusat.
Madame De Krudener.
To match Madame Recamier, Madame Swetchine, and The Friendships of Women.
In onee. 16mo.
Price $1. 50.
A book we can cordially recommend to all, but especially to our lady readers.
Among other sketches with equal truth and skill are Madame de Stael, Lafayette, Ruland, and Guizot.
We have all heard of Madame de Stael and Madame Ruland; but few know much of Madame Lafayette, and comparatively little is knMadame de Stael and Madame Ruland; but few know much of Madame Lafayette, and comparatively little is known of Madame Guizot, and others in the list, who so well deserve to be known, Miss . Preston has shown good judgment in her selection from the Portraits de Femmes. Her readers will thank her for an introduction to women whose distinguished abilities and virtues, as well as generous culture, make their acquaintance as profitable as