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August, 1843 AD (search for this): chapter 19
, is it not deeper and truer to live than to think? . . . Yet is his [Emerson's] a noble speech! I love to reprove myself by it. Ms. (W. H. C.) As I read her letters and diaries, it seems plain that her yearning desire, during her whole life, was not merely to know but to do. She was urged on by an intense longing, not for a selfish self-culture, nor even for self-culture in its very widest sense, but for usefulness in her day and generation. He who alone knoweth, she writes in August, 1843, will affirm that I have tried to work wholehearted, from an earnest faith, yet my hand is often languid and my heart is slow;--I must be gone, I feel, but whither? I know not: if I cannot make this plot of ground yield corn and roses, famine must be my lot forever and forever, surely. Ms. (W. H. C.) In accordance with this thought, she felt that this country must create, as it has now done, its own methods of popular education, especially for the training of girls. She wrote
April 12th, 1840 AD (search for this): chapter 19
vate, for individuals who could, in some degree, respond to the teachings of his demon; it made no difference to him; he knew the multitude would not understand him; but it was the other way that Jesus took, preaching in the field and plucking ears of corn on the Sabbath day. Ms. (W. H. C.) Again, after a day in the woods with Emerson's Nature, --reading it through for the first time to herself, Mr. Emerson himself having originally read it aloud to her,--she thus writes to him (April 12, 1840):-- The years do not pass in vain. If they have built no temple on the earth, they have given a nearer view of the city of God. Yet would I rather, were the choice tendered to me, draw the lot of Pericles than that of Anaxagoras. And if such great names do not fit the occasion, I would delight more in thought-living than in living thought. That is not a good way of expressing it either, but I must correct the press another time. Ms. This feeling led her to criticise more tha
one ever saw a more devoted daughter, sister, friend; and only her diary and a very few intimates knew how much this cost her or how she yearned for something more. With inexorable frankness she saw that even her resignation was often a kind of despair, even the alms she gave were only a miserable substitute for the larger work she longed to do; and thus much she often expressed, not only to herself but to others. She thought that we human beings ought not, as she wrote to Mr. Emerson (in 1839), to suppress the worst or select the best of ourselves, but to be altogether better. Even her own good deeds thoroughly dissatisfied her, and she often points out in her diaries that what passes for virtue in her is only the resigned acceptance of what seems to her subordinate and unsatisfactory. Her life, so far from being selfish, overflowed with constant acts of private kindness; she was incessantly bearing burdens for others, but she was haunted, as many other strong natures have been,
chief aim at any period of her life was self-culture. The Roman thread in her was too strong, the practical inheritance from her parentage too profound, for her to have ever contented herself with a life of abstraction. The strong training that came from her father, the early influence of Jefferson's letters, all precluded this. What she needed was not books but life, and if she ever expressed doubts of this need, she always came back to it again. Is it not nobler and truer, she wrote in 1842 to W. H. Channing, to live than to think? Ms. Here it is that she sometimes chafes under the guidance of Emerson; always longs to work as well as meditate, to deal with the many, not the few, to feel herself in action. This made it the best thing in her Providence life to have attended the Whig caucus, and made her think, on board the French war-vessel, that she would like to command it; this made her delight in studying Western character; this led her to New York, where the matter — of-fa
July 24th, 1876 AD (search for this): chapter 19
he.heavy folds of her light brown hair and submitted her haughty head to his sentient fingers. The masterly analysis which he made of her character, its complexities and contradictions, its heights and its depths, its nobilities and its frailties, was strangely lucid and impressive, and helped one who knew her well to a more tender and sympathetic appreciation of her character and career, a character which only George Eliot could have fully appreciated and portrayed. Providence journal, July 24, 1876. Many men, including some of the most gifted in our American community, have since tried their hands on Margaret Fuller's head; and they have given such varying results as their point of observation might justify. With ready recognition of my own inferiority to them as respects personal knowledge, I find myself, after long and patient study of her writings, forming conclusions sometimes different from theirs. I do not think that Mr. Emerson, with his cool and tranquil temperament,
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